Chapter Text
Carpenter, electrician and mechanic (plumber only when absolutely necessary) Edward Teach had a pep in his step about his new job. The two minute, twenty-three second call to book the appointment had been full of potential.
Something literally falling apart at the time of the call - check.
Said something being part of the roof, leaving the room exposed to the elements - check.
Caller sounding suitably stressed and desperate - check.
The location being a fucking decrepid old theatre - check.
All things that Ed could use to bump up his rates. The caller needed a fix urgently enough that he wouldn’t even think to protest or haggle prices. Jobs like these, the clients were grateful to have their problems all fixed up and wouldn’t blink at the fee. Especially ones with money enough to own a goddamn theatre.
But it was more than just the paycheck adding up in Ed’s mind that got him excited. Money wasn’t the motivator it used to be back in the day when he was worried about bills and food and his mum. He’d been living (more than) comfortably for years. He’d been… coasting. Not that he wanted to go back to his early struggles - no fucking way, there just wasn’t any urgency anymore. No fucking life. Nothing to grab him by the shoulders and shake him up a bit.
Hence the career change to at least give him a challenge. The bar had become boring. The less-than-legal activities that the bar had spawned from and continued to facilitate - also boring. It had all just got so predictable. Izzy couldn’t understand how being a handyman could provide even a fraction of excitement in comparison.
But it was exciting. Ed had to solve problems on his feet, with nothing but his own hands and ingenuity (okay, maybe the occasional bit of help from Google, but what did that matter?). And he wasn’t a handyman. Too much like a porn thing, especially when he rocked up to a job in his leather jacket, tousled hair and made the client stutter their reply over his request to see their problem.
Ed was very much aware of how he looked, but at this stage of his life, trying to make a name for himself as a tradesman, he did not want to be a porn-trope encounter, thanks. Besides, how was he supposed to keep clients if he fucked them? That’d be awkward as hell.
If he wanted to be a sex worker, he would’ve done that. Would’ve been great at it. Just like he was a great carpenter/electrician/mechanic/plumber-in-desperate-situations. Listing all his different capabilities as titles highlighted his skills and made him seem more experienced than a ‘handyman’ anyway. You could get pages of results searching for ‘local handyman’, but carpenter/electrician/mechanic/plumber-only-if-paid-very-well only brings up one Edward Teach. Ed knows, he’s tried it.
Anyway. The job. The very exciting job that’s got Ed drumming on his steering wheel and humming to the radio. It’s not the prospect of the payout, no. It’s…
It’s a theatre. There’s gonna be all kinds of colourful characters there. Haughty actor types, clashing egos, funky costumes. No one would pay attention to him, he’d get to see a little show (or bits of one) as he worked. Pretty sweet deal. Ed never went to the theatre, didn’t feel like it was his place, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t want to.
And okay, maybe this line of work was already getting a bit same-y, just four months in. Waiting around for calls, fixing the same sort of minor problems that only resulted in a couple of hours work at a time. But he wasn’t giving up! Edward Teach was a carpenter and an electrician and a mechanic, and excellent at all of them. So what if he didn’t have ‘official’ qualifications for most of them. No one ever asked for his credentials, just his experience, and he’d been getting plenty of that.
And he wouldn’t give Izzy the satisfaction of crawling back to the bar.
But this call. Or, more specifically, the caller. Stede Bonnet. (“That’s Stede. With a ‘d’,” he’d said in his chipper, kiwi accented voice. And yeah, okay, the accent had already made Ed biased). He was stressed, this Stede-with-a-D Bonnet, understandably so, but all-the-fuck over the place. Ed didn’t know what the hell was going on for the first full minute of the conversation/panic rant. There was yelling and commotion in the background, crashing of heavy objects, someone singing? Stede started quoting some Shakespere shit at him that Ed couldn’t make heads nor tails of, especially with all the activity in the background, but he laughed along anyway.
“Can he fix it or not?!” A shrill voice yelled. “Because I got like, that really gross splinter from that cursed fucking beam or whatever.”
“Yes, alright Lucius! No need for the dramatics!”
You’re literally in a theatre, mate, Ed had thought giddily.
“Right, well. Yes. Could you help with the roof, do you think? Is a roofer different to a carpenter? And would you be available, say, immediately?”
Then there’d been a huge fucking crash and Stede had screamed. Ed had assured him he’d be right over, if he was still alive.
“Oh thank God. And yes, I am. Just about. I mean, obviously. Unless ghosts could talk through a phone? I’m definitely not a ghost though, is what I’m saying. Very much alive and leaving this room until you arrive.”
Which had been the most sensible thing Stede Bonnet had said for the entire call. The last part. Not the ghost part.
But it was interesting. It sounded fun and wild as fuck.
Ed was just turning onto his destination street when he was almost taken out by a Ford Fiesta with a fucking roof spoiler. Ed laid into his horn and at least the bald driver (too old for boy-racer trappings on his car, in Ed’s opinion) seemed extremely frazzled and apologetic, and his passenger looked pretty green, but all the apologies in the world wouldn’t have helped if any of them had been fucked up in a car accident.
Whatever. He was here, at the small community theatre. A little old brick building next to a burger joint.
He hopped out of the van, left his tools behind to scope out the problem(s) first. Adrenaline buzzed in his veins as he prepared to open the theatre door to absolute chaos.
His entrance wasn’t quite how he’d imagined - there were just a bunch of people hanging around in the foyer on mismatched chairs clearly taken from other rooms. No running around like headless chickens, no crying or cursing. No one seemed all that worried, actually, and if it hadn’t been the theatre, Ed might have thought he’d got the wrong building.
“Edward Teach?”
Ah. That lovely, soft kiwi voice he’d been waiting for. Ed turned to his left to see who could only be Stede Bonnet himself approaching.
Well, fuck. He was more than interesting, he was pretty cute too. Tousled blonde curls, fancy pale teal shirt with rows of tiny waves embroidered in pearlescent white thread, cosy-looking thick cream cardigan that frankly, Ed wanted to curl up and live in. Trim, lilac-y grey slacks, polished brown loafers which, on closer inspection, had cream butterfly silhouettes where the buckle usually was.
Stede Bonnet took Ed’s hand in both of his own as he shook it. (Soft, warm hands. Firm shake).
“Thank you so much for coming here at such short notice. You’re a lifesaver.”
Stede let him go and Ed shrugged. “Haven’t done anything yet, mate. Kinda looks like the crisis has cooled somewhat anyway, less immediate danger to life.”
He tilted his head towards the group lounging and joking on the other side of the foyer.
“Hm. Yes, well. I rather think most of them thrive on a bit of chaos. And I promised to keep paying them if we couldn't continue rehearsals - it's not their fault, is it? - so I suppose it's no loss to them.” He sighed. “I had hoped they'd be a bit more committed, but I suppose we haven't had much time to get stuck in. At least they're getting along, eh?”
“Uh, yeah.” Ed wondered if this was deliberate sabotage to get paid to do fuck-all. “So what are we dealing with here? Walk me through the problem - I didn't catch much on the phone.”
“Right! Yes! Of course! We've had part of the roof fall in right above the stage. A beam came down yesterday and nothing else happened, so we sort of assumed it hadn't been holding anything up.”
“And you carried on acting. On the stage. And did it again today.”
“Well, we moved the fallen beam out of the way first! Definitely rotten.”
Absolute maniac, Ed thought with nothing but fondness. He very much wanted this guy to remain not-a-ghost though.
“Okay. Stage is off-limits until I've made sure it's safe - or safe enough that nothing else is gonna fall apart.”
Stede huffed and did a little pout - and christ that was cute.
“Alright,” he conceded, as if ensuring his own safety was some great hardship. “Oh! Where are my manners, would you like a drink - tea? - before you get stuck in?”
“Huh,” this guy had a major structural problem he needed fixing ASAP, and he wanted Ed to chill out and have tea before he even did any work at all. Fascinating. “Sure. Tea's good.”
“Excellent! Well, this is the crew,” Stede said, leading Ed over to the group. “Buttons, Frenchie, John, Jim, Olu, Archie, Roach, Swede, this is Ed who will be helping us fix things up.” He leaned towards Ed. “Jim's a they/them nonbinary,” he added with pride.
“Those sure are some names,” Ed blinked, slightly bewildered. A bunch of them were at least memorable. “What, uh, are you guys working on anyway?”
“The Scottish Play,” Stede announced before anyone else got a chance, puffing up with pride.
“... Shakespere, yeah? Oh! That's Mac-”
Everyone urgently shushed him.
“I'm afraid that's what got us into this mess in the first place. Right! One tea, coming up!”
“Be a dear and make me one too, Captain?” The big fella (John?) said.
“Oh yeah, me too babes,” Frenchie added.
To Ed's surprise, given all of Stede's consideration towards him, Stede's expression became what could only be described as bitchy. Haughty little sniff and everything.
“I'm not an octopus, Frenchie. I can't carry drinks for everyone.”
He turned with a bit of a swish to punctuate his refusal, and left them. Fucking delightful.
“So does that mean I'm getting one or…?” John mumbled.
“Don't think so, mate,” Ed said, unable to get the stupid grin to leave his face.
“Look, uh, Ed?” Jim said. “I'm gonna be real with you - we had actual contractors in here yesterday and they wouldn't touch this mess. Only if the whole place was shut down for months. And that was before the rest of it came down.”
“Because the whole building might have structural issues and they want to do a proper survey and renovation. Makes sense,” Ed nodded.
The group seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief.
“You'll tell him the same then?” Olu asked.
“I'll give my opinion after I've seen it for myself. And what, you guys just want to get as much money from him as possible for not working?”
“If the whole place was shut down, we wouldn't take any more money.”
Everyone gave Olu a look.
“Speak for yourself.” “I would.” “Totally.”
Olu rolled his eyes. “Regardless of whether or not we're paid, it's probably illegal to be working in here, yeah? No way we could have an audience in.”
Jim and the other one with an arm draped over their shoulders snorted.
“It's cute you think we'd ever be performance ready.”
“Speak for yourself, Archie,” said a blonde guy with a bandana and an accent Ed was not expecting.
“Half of us - no, two thirds of us - aren't even actors, and those who are aren't anywhere near professional. None of us believe Pete substituted for a lead in the West End, right? He's the lighting guy. Never been on stage in his life.”
Jim looked around the group and was immediately answered with nods and murmurs of definite agreement.
“So why are you even here?” Ed frowned.
Frenchie shrugged. “We get paid to dress up and fuck around. Lunch included. It's pretty sweet.”
“But… if he has money to throw around, why isn't he hiring actors? Proper ones? No offence.”
“Some of us may have slightly exaggerated our resumes?” Frenchie said with a ‘what can you do, it had to happen’ type of shrug.
“Why is he even doing this at all?”
The members of the group all looked between each other. By the looks on their faces it seemed like none of them had even considered that question.
“Well you don't look a gift-horse in the mouth, do you?” Frenchie insisted. “Loads of big gross teeth there or something.” He shuddered.
“Aye, I knew a fella had his hands bit clean off by a feisty filly.”
“You didn't,” Olu grimaced at the Scot.
“Why would you put your other hand near it after losing one?” Archie asked, but none of them looked completely convinced that it didn't happen.
“Tryina get his other hand back.”
“Ohh. Yeah, makes sense.”
“Ed!”
Ed was more than happy to be pulled out of the current conversation with Stede’s arrival. He was pushing an honest-to-God silver tea service trolley.
“He's not even using his hands,” Roach grumbled.
“Terribly remiss of me not to ask how you take your tea, Edward, so I thought I’d just bring everything to you. There’s milk, oat milk, sugar, honey, lemon… but if I’ve missed something you require, let me know!”
“Nah, man this is… This is great.”
Everything was in its own tiny little pot, pitcher or bowl. There were actual china teacups on saucers (just two of them), not a chipped old novelty mug from the back of a cupboard. Ed felt faintly ridiculous lifting the delicate lid of the sugar bowl and using the teeny tiny spoon to load the stuff into his cup. But mostly he felt fancy. A bit special. He attempted to take it in his stride as if this was how he took tea on a daily basis.
Stede didn’t even bat an eye at the seven heaped sugar spoons. He just smiled, cradling his own cup as Ed put his to his lips.
“Fuck. That’s good.”
“Isn’t it? I get most of my tea from this lovely lady online who makes all of her own blends. This one has tuscany rose petals.”
“Tuscany rose petals…” Ed murmured, staring into his cup.
“I’m gonna get a cavity if I have to watch this any longer,” Archie muttered. “Coffee?”
Everyone enthusiastically assented and got up to leave. Ed couldn’t be happier with this turn of events. He’d kind of already forgotten they were there.
“Lucius would be having a field day with this,” John said as they moved out.
“Would it make him feel better or worse to hear about it, do you think?” Olu asked.
“Oh worse. Definitely. He hates missing out.”
“Who’s gonna text him then?” Archie grinned.
“Already on it, babe,” Frenchie said, furiously typing. Everyone’s phones pinged in unison as they went through the door.
Then it was quiet.
“There’s a group chat?” Stede pouted.
“Aw, well, it just changes the vibe to have the boss in the group, doesn’t it?”
Stede sighed. “I suppose. But I like to think we’re more of a family than an corporate employer-employee situation.”
They sipped their tea and the silence felt… comfortable. Ed took a moment to get a good look at his new client.
Stede seemed calmer now that they were alone - not that he had seemed uncomfortable before, but Ed supposed he was something of a performer, with the theatre and everything, and felt the need to entertain and assimilate into a room full of people. There was a gentleness to him in the way he cradled his teacup, hugging the warmth of it. A loneliness too. A man who had a resignation to not being included in a group, but longed for it all the same. And yet he still held all that energy and optimism, sun-bright and infectious.
Bitchy but kind, smart yet foolish, so animated at times and quiet at others… Yeah, Ed was looking forward to this job if Stede was going to be here every day.
“What got you into the fixing-things business, Ed?” Stede looked right back at him, unaware of Ed’s intense assessment of him.
“I like being kept busy. Like physically doing things, seeing progress. ‘M good with my hands.”
He threw that one out there for free. So what if he was already rethinking the ‘it’s awkward to fuck clients’ rule. It wasn’t every day you met someone like Stede Bonnet. Who wouldn’t be wooed by a proper tea set-up?
Alas, Stede appeared oblivious to the bait.
“I can understand that. Very much, actually. I bet it feels good to be the knight in shining armour saving people’s days.”
Ed snorted. “It’s definitely not as romantic as that. A lot of getting covered in oil and dust and junk. Lot of swearing to get things to cooperate. Folks getting pissy that they have to pay for a new part, or that a job is taking longer than they wanted.”
“What do they know?” Stede defended with that fascinating bitchiness again. “If they know what a job entails, they ought to do it themselves rather than giving you grief.”
“Yeah, ‘s exactly what I say.” Except less polite. “C’mon then,” he said, draining the last of his cup. “Let’s see this hole in the ceiling.”
-----
“Yep, that’s definitely a hole there.”
Ed stood centre-stage, hands on his hips, looking directly up at the damage. Stede wrung his hands together anxiously.
“Fixable, do you think?”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely get it sealed. And stable, probably. A proper fix will take longer, but I can do it.”
Stede breathed a sigh of relief. “Excellent!”
“There is already a pigeon in here though,” Ed pointed to the offending bird looking down at them from the remaining roof supports.
“Ah, I do believe that’s just Karl - a friend of Buttons.”
“Right. Probably should get this sealed off before any more of his friends have a party in here though, yeah?”
“Oh yes, certainly before we get any rain or damp. We’ve just reupholstered all of the seats.”
It had been more work than anticipated - some were rather moth-eaten, but Stede couldn’t be happier with the result. Completely revived and plush in red velvet damask. John had been an incredible help.
“Right. Just gotta grab my stuff from the van.”
Stede helped him carry things to the stage so he didn’t have to go back and forth quite so much. Ed insisted he didn’t need to, but what else was Stede going to do? Sit back and watch? Shut himself up in his office, alone? He’d had quite enough of that. Besides, Ed was rather lovely company. Far better than those brash men he had in the day before.
Ed was more than happy to chat away as he worked. Commenting on the things he found, explaining what he was doing, stories of crazy past clients, wild and funny things that he’d encountered in his life. Ed had lived in a way Stede never had. Ed was funny, bright, curious and fun. Stede wasn’t at all surprised that he had been drawn into so many people’s lives. Who wouldn’t want Ed’s vibrant, easy company?
Before he knew it, lunchtime had passed by unnoticed but Ed was insistent that he needed to keep working or he wouldn’t get everything sealed up to his satisfaction before nightfall.
“You can’t be payin’ me just to hang out with you, mate.”
“Right, yes, of course,” Stede agreed as quickly as he could.
He’d hired Ed to do a job, Ed was putting up with his company because Stede was his client. Put up with him just like everyone else did, albeit in a much friendlier way.
“You wouldn’t need to pay me for that.”
Stede was so bewildered by this unexpected addition to Ed’s statement, that he missed his window for a response. And he could've sworn Ed winked at him from his perch, but that could’ve been the shadows playing tricks up there. One thing Stede was sure of was that Ed was smiling down at him, warm and kind, and Stede wondered if four-and-a-half hours was enough time to have made a friend.
“I’ll go and get something for you. Any dietary requirements? Particular preferences?”
“If you insist. Surprise me. I think I’m pretty easy to please.”
Not wanting to be gone for too long, Stede tried his best not to overthink and just nip across to Sweet Revenge - the lovely independent cafe that most of the crew frequented before he knew them. Roach actually owned it, but decided to join the others at the theatre when he had time. He had an unutilised passion for practical special effects that Stede had assured him would be of great use in a production of Macbeth. He’d already had what sounded like pretty in-depth discussions with Buttons about the best fake blood recipes, but unfortunately they had yet to reach the stage of being able to implement effects.
“Oh! Hello Fang!”
Stede liked Fang, he was sweet and friendly, didn’t assume Steve when Stede had first given his name, and recalled Stede’s tastes with ease. Having someone like Fang on the other side of a counter was always a relief.
“Hey Stede! You must be hungry! It’s nearly 3 o’clock!” Fang gasped, adorably genuine.
“I’m afraid time got away from me today. Yes please, one Green Goddess Tuna and hm, something for a… friend of mine who’s helping to fix the hole above the stage. It collapsed on us - just a little bit - this morning.”
“Yeah! Lucius was telling me! That’s mad! You need to be careful!”
“Lucius? When? He’s in A&E!”
“Yeah, and waiting there is boring, man. So, something for your friend to give him the energy he needs, eh? How is he with spice?”
“Ah, he said he had no preference.”
Fang leaned in, conspiratorially. “Is he white?”
“Um, no?”
Fang nodded sagely and set to work. “Not to generalise, just helps me make a decision, y’know? Gonna give him one of my favourites.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Korean Steak Sandwich. Gonna get peppers, onions and jalapeños up in there too. Lovely melty cheese to get everything to behave and stay in the bread.”
“Sounds amazing,” Stede sighed, really feeling the emptiness of his stomach now.
“Gonna change your mind on yours?” Fang asked with a smile.
“Ah, no, not today.”
Stede left the café with warm, foil-wrapped sandwiches and triple chocolate cookies as big as his entire hand in a paper bag. Cardboard cup holder with two coffees in his other hand. He hurried back to the theatre before they got cold.
He gingerly climbed the ladder one handed, bag secured in the crook of his coffee-carrying arm.
“Oh shit- mate don't- Why are you coming up here with all that? Give it ‘ere, you maniac.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Ed leaned down to take the coffee, and Stede nearly dropped the food trying to manoeuvre the position of the bag to pass it up. Ed caught both the bag and Stede, who might have been swaying backwards slightly.
“Fucking hell, man. Give a guy a heart attack why don't you,” Ed muttered once Stede was safely seated (well, as safe as was possible, sitting on a ceiling joist).
He must have been hungry though, with the way he tore into the foil.
“Fuck me,” he groaned around his first mouthful. “What is this? I think I just saw God.”
“Korean Steak Sandwich, apparently.” Stede chuckled. “Can't say I've tried it, I'm glad it was a good choice.”
“Well you're not trying it now.” Ed hunched over it as he ate like some kind of rather adorable gremlin.
Stede dug into his own food, sipping on his chai latte as he surveyed Ed's work. The hole looked securely patched with tarpaulin (to Stede's untrained eye anyway). There were some metal supports too, which Stede didn't want to even consider how Ed had got up there on his own.
“Do you have anyone to help you with bigger jobs, Ed?”
“Hm? Nah. I mean, if I really need help with the lifting or something I can call Ivan but I prefer to work alone. Just easier, y'know? Don't have to deal with anyone else's bullshit. And ‘if you want a job done right, do it yourself’ - I think that's pretty accurate.”
“It seems an awful lot of work though. Not that I think you can't do it!” He was quick to add. “You're clearly very capable.”
Ed just shrugged. “I've realised I'm not that great with people.”
“No! But you're so easy to talk to!”
“Hah!” Ed exclaimed in apparent disbelief. “Besides, I can be pretty particular and nit-picky about how I want shit done. Quicker and easier to do it myself rather than checking other people's work all the time.”
“Makes sense,” Stede nodded.
Ed sipped his own drink, and breathed in sharply, eyes widening.
“Too hot?” Stede worried.
“Too fucking good more like. You're on a roll with these choices.”
Stede preened internally. He was succeeding at socialisation like never before!
“I remembered you seemed to have a sweet tooth. Pumpkin spice mocha and I agreed to the whipped cream and chocolate sauce.”
“The best goddamn choice.”
Their food was finished too quickly for Stede's liking - he found himself immediately missing the excuse to keep Ed's company. But Ed cracked back on with the work and Stede knew he needed him to do it. Instead, Stede went back to his office, sent messages to the crew that they would begin rehearsals again tomorrow, and tried to plan which scenes needed the most work.
Maybe he could make some adjustments… trim things down, but who was he to edit the Bard? No. Stede was loath to bastardise such beautiful prose.
He resorted to pacing the theatre and nearly bumped into Ed.
“There you are. I'm gonna head off now.”
Stede glanced at his watch. 5:10.
“Oh wow. Yes, of course! Feel free to leave your things here, I'll lock up.”
“Thanks man. And uh, thanks for the lunch an’ all that.” Ed's eye contact slipped away as he fiddled with a lock of his hair. “It was really nice.”
“You're most welcome,” Stede smiled. The eye contact came right back, bringing a moment of silence with it that seemed to stretch.
Ed coughed. “Right. Well. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Ed.”
“‘Night.”
----
“I nearly lost my finger!” Lucius declared the next day, holding his bandaged appendage aloft. “The doctor didn’t even know what all the bacteria in there even was.”
He grimaced and shuddered as Pete comfortingly rubbed his shoulder.
“It was a close call, babe. Real close.”
“I was harbouring things unknown to science, Stede!”
“Alright, alright! I think that’s a bit much, don’t you?”
“We actually had to have a discussion about amputation!”
“I am sorry you had to experience that. And I’m happy you’re all in one piece, okay? But maybe you should have tried to lift the other end of the beam.”
“Oh my God, I can’t believe this,” Lucius muttered.
“I said you could stay home! Get well rested and properly heal and all that. Why are you even here?”
“Morning, Stede!” Ed called from the doorway, still out of sight.
“Good morning, Ed!” He was about to push past Lucius and Pete but Ed came into view, bucket of tools in hand. “Tea?”
“Daw, alright. Thanks mate.”
“Ohhh that’s handyman Ed, hmm?”
“He’s not a handyman! He’s a carpenter, among other things, and very knowledgeable.”
“Oh yeah? Has he been demonstrating these ‘other things’ with you, Captain?”
“What? No! He’s been doing mostly woodwork stuff, hammering things together. I mean, he does have a talent for storytelling - he has some rather gripping anecdotes-”
“Oh my God, okay, not what I meant but let's move on.”
As Ed made his way down the stairs to the stage, Pete whistled low.
“He’s pretty hot,” he murmured, then for some inexplicable reason seemed to give Stede a side-eye assessment. “Kinda out of your league though?”
“I think he’s rather out of everyone’s league, thank you Pete! And he’s here to work, not be the victim of any… shameless flirting.” He looked pointedly at Lucius, who muttered ‘rude’. “I’d like to remind you that this is a professional workplace.”
Pete snorted. “Since when? Oh, wait, shit you’re serious.”
“Yes, I am,” Stede snapped as he stood, pulling the lapels of his jacket sharply, mood souring by the moment. “Don’t scare him off.”
Ed wasn't scared off, and he was up in the roof all day again. Unfortunately, Stede had ordered rehearsals so couldn't indulge in Ed's conversation. Instead, he demonstrated his vision of how most of the lines should be performed after the crew stumbled through a scene, tried to shout encouragements, but more often than not was barely biting back sighs and critiques. He counted down the hours to lunch - the bright spot on his horizon that just so happened to also lead to Ed.
“Right!” Stede called, right in the middle of Swede's line, as soon as the time rolled over to 1pm. “Time for a break! Go and get some air, some food. You have a good ninety minutes! I want you back refreshed and raring to go!”
Stede left, not waiting to hear any opinions on the matter, and went directly to Sweet Revenge. He ordered exactly the same as the day before, too afraid to alter such a winning formula, got back to the theatre in record time and hopped up the ladder with much more success. (Lunch had sensibly been left on the stage this time).
“Lunch?”
Ed popped out an earbud. “Hm?”
“Care to join me downstairs for lunch? Have a proper break this time.”
Ed smiled. Not the same smile he had when he laughed - this was a small, almost private thing.
“Alright then, twist my arm why don't you.”
It was a peculiar little picnic, sitting together on the edge of the stage to eat. Stede wondered if he should've laid out a blanket.
“So is this just a little theatre group get-together or… ?”
“Oh no. We're going to perform to the public! Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Ed muttered into his sandwich. “It's just that they're, uh…”
“Needs a bit more work? I know. I thought it'd be best to let them choose the roles they wanted as I didn't know them, and I could gauge their talents. So I really ought to shift them around now but,” he sighed. “I don't know.”
“Why did you hire these guys anyway? You wanted locals?”
“Yes, and they just get along so well together, don't they? And I wanted…”
Ed looked at him expectantly.
“I wanted odd ducks. I wanted to create a community of overlooked people and nurture and showcase their talents.”
“That's really nice.”
Stede ducked his head. “Thanks.”
“But what if their talents aren't acting?”
“Most of them I hired for their other talents. John is an exceptional tailor - he's helped jazz up all our costumes. Jim is a stuntman and can train the others how to properly handle any knives and swords. Buttons is an animal trainer, if we ever need it. Roach has a passion for special effects, Swede can sing beautifully, Lucius paints our backdrops and helps with set design, Pete makes and sources the props and can do sound and lighting. Frenchie is a musician of course. Archie has experience with wrestling and all sorts of martial arts - she has a wonderful physicality. Olu is a binding force and can get the others under control. He's our problem solver, and he did come here with an aim to act.”
Ed raised his eyebrows. “Seems like you've got everything covered but the acting.”
“I just need to recast the roles. Then I'm sure it'll be fine.”
Stede ignored Ed's look of blatant scepticism.
“Yeah, that Pete guy shouldn't be the lead. You at least need someone who can remember the lines.”
“Besides Lucius, I'm not sure anyone can remember the lines.”
“Maybe… maybe Shakespere isn't the thing to start with?”
“I'm afraid I have my heart set on it. I can do this. I was thinking that we should really utilise Buttons’ lovely Scottish brogue and have him in the lead. He can definitely convince an audience of insanity, but the problem is we don't want him to start quite so off his rocker. He does enjoy being a witch and he is rather good at it, perhaps I should leave him to it.”
“What about the wife? She's kinda nuts, right?”
“Hmm… that could be interesting.”
“And isn't there the whole ‘no man of a woman born’ thing?”
“Yes?”
“Would be kinda funny to have Jim, not being a man and all.”
“Ed!” Stede jumped up. “That's brilliant! Why didn't I think of that?”
Oh this was going to be great. Stede felt revitalised, full of renewed passion and surety of success. Full of hope.
He looked down at Ed. Clever, kind Ed who sat up in the roof alone all day doing ‘proper’ work.
“Hey, do you want to do something fun?”
-----
“Why do you even have all of these costumes?” Ed marvelled, brushing the sleeve of the insane deep purple velvet tailcoat he was wearing.
“Because they're beautiful,” Stede confessed, doing a little twirl in his white frilly getup and little heeled shoes. Ed tried his best to ignore the stockings, beckoning Ed to touch. “And I'll take any excuse to have a collection of beautiful clothes - I'm afraid I'm a bit of a clothes horse. Besides, I intend for us to do many different productions!”
“But you don't get to wear them,” Ed frowned, deciding to get an answer to what had been bugging him all day. “Why don't you act? You know all the lines.”
“Ah. Well. What was it you said? It changes the vibe. And giving myself the best roles is a bit too egotistical, don't you think? Besides, I get to wear them like this.”
Seems lonely though. Ed wanted to say. But he got it, could hear Stede's ‘I can dress up away from judgement and ridicule’ as plain as day. Didn't mean that it didn't make him mad. Stede should be out there flouncing around the stage. There seemed to be too much of him to trap in this wardrobe.
Ed cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. “Welcome to Jeff's Inn By The Sea, my good sir,” he said, affecting an overly posh accent and spreading his hand in a welcoming gesture. “I do hope you're here for a room. Whatever you've heard about hauntings is most certainly untrue, and we don't cater to tourists perpetuating the rumour, you understand.”
Stede looked utterly awed, absolutely over the moon to have Ed do a silly bit and invite him to play. It was nice to have someone see you, to understand. Ed really felt like Stede instinctively got him, without knowing him much at all. I understand you too, Ed wanted to say. I want to.
“I've heard no such thing! You have such a beautiful establishment, I don't see how it can be haunted.”
Ed narrowed his eyes. “You don't even check tripadvisor before going somewhere?”
“Nope!” Stede said too fast and bright, hands behind his back. “Just utterly charmed by this marvellous building.”
Ed leaned to the side, as if trying to look behind Stede, who leaned away.
“So you definitely don't have any weird ghost-tracking equipment then?”
“No! No, no,” Stede forced a laugh. “All of these bags are just things for… a complicated medical condition. I'd rather not talk about it.”
It was so easy to make up a story. They just bounced off each other so naturally, it was a bit addictive to do something just to see how Stede would run with it. They went right into the whole haunted inn thing, with Stede making incredible sound effects for creaky floors, doors, whistling wind and ghostly wails. Ed couldn't keep it together - he laughed with delight at each new, strange sound that came out of Stede's mouth.
Stede squealed in faux fear at his own ghostly cry, jumping in fright, practically right into Ed’s arms.
Ed clung to him as Stede looked at him, eyes bright, face flushed, panting and happy. When had anyone ever looked at Ed like that? Ed couldn't get enough of him. Absolutely obsessed with this fascinating man.
“What is even happening?”
Stede yelped - genuine this time - at Lucius’ voice.
“It's uh, not like you to be so late. Thought I'd check you'd not been crushed by falling beams or something, because I'm nice like that, but I should've left you to… whatever this is, huh?”
Yes, Ed wanted to spit, his grip tightening on Stede’s (very nice) bicep.
“Oh God, is that the time? Wow. Time really flies doesn't it, Ed?”
“Sure does, mate,” Ed said, scowling at Lucius’ knowing smile, well aware that the afternoon alone in the roof was going to drag.
-----
Stede had an epiphany as they were wrapping up for the day. What a presence Ed had, how naturally he took to acting! That tiny part of the afternoon with Ed had been the most fun Stede had experienced in this theatre yet. The most fun Stede had experienced in quite some time, actually.
“Lucius!”
“Hmm?” Lucuis didn't look up from whatever he was doing on his phone as he waited for Pete.
“What if we had Ed in the lead role?”
That got Lucuis’ attention.
“I think it might just be what we need, the missing piece of the puzzle!”
“Yeah, we get it, he's leading man hot-”
“No! Well, yes, I suppose, but that's not what I meant! He has… charisma and mystery and…”
“Alright, alright, sure why not. Can't get any worse, can it?”
“Positive attitude please, Lucius! I need to catch him before he leaves. Get him a script.”
Stede dashed to his office and back to the stage to find Ed in the process of packing up for the day.
“Ed!”
“Oh, hey mate.”
Doubt caught hold of Stede's tongue as he clutched his script.
“I was thinking… what about trying your hand at acting? Do a reading of a scene with the others tomorrow?”
“Huh. Really?”
“Yes, I think you'd have just a marvellous stage presence. No pressure. I understand if you wouldn't feel comfortable, but I thought you should have the opportunity.”
“Yeah… yeah, thanks.”
Ed seemed thoughtful. Sometimes it was really rather hard to read his expressions beneath all that beard - as lovely as it was.
“I'll still pay you for a full day's work - don't worry about that.”
“Yeah alright. I'll give it a go. Worst case it'll just be a laugh, eh?”
“Right! Here you are then, my very own copy of the script. Forgive how rumpled it is.”
“So who am I playing, then?”
“The lead of course! I think you'd be perfect.”
Ed looked bewildered. “You mean Macbe-”
A chorus of loud shushing came from the crew who had appeared in the wings at some point.
“Sorry. Everyone is very sensitive about the curse since the roof came in.”
“Curse?”
“The Scottish Curse. That speaking the name of the Scottish Play inside a theatre when not called for by the script would spell disaster. Someone did this and the very next moment that first beam fell right in the middle of the stage! Very dramatic.”
“Yeah, well, how was I meant to know about some stupid curse?” Pete grumbled.
“It's literally theatre 101, mate.” Frenchie said. “Everyone knows.”
“Yah, it's the first thing anyone tells you about Macbeth?”
Another chorus of loud shushing and demanding Swede go outside to perform the cleansing ritual.
“Okay… so nothing to do with all the rotting timber up there then. Just the uh, McCurse.”
“Oh, McCurse! I like that,” Stede smiled.
“Right. Guess I better head off. Got some reading to do tonight,” Ed waved his script.
“You know no-one else knows it particularly well, Ed. You'll do great.”
“Damn right. Jeff can do anything,” Ed winked.
As he left after the others, Stede really felt like he'd made progress. Tomorrow really would be a brand new day.
-----
What the fuck had he been thinking agreeing to this?
Ed hadn't got a wink of sleep, going over the script, looking at YouTube break downs and clips of performances, having his own minor breakdown over the whole thing. He'd never taken a drama class in his life. He wasn't an actor, and getting friendly with Stede had just given him the impression Ed was far more talented and brilliant than he actually was. Fuck.
Not only was he going to embarrass himself, but Stede's opinion of him would change. That was the thing Ed was finding hard to stomach, hence coming to the conclusion that failure wasn't an option.
When he'd talked about the casting with Stede, he'd looked up Macbeth Sparknotes the night before so he didn't seem like a total idiot. Now he'd read the whole play multiple times and the later the evening got, the less sense it made to him. Any understanding he had blurred together into a useless soup of vague ideas in the early hours of the morning.
But it was fine. He just had to read his lines. That's all he had to do. Easy.
Yeah, easy, he thought, clutching his script in a death-grip, standing centre stage, heart racing.
He stumbled through an early scene with the others, relaxing into it more with each page. No one was laughing at him and Stede didn't seem disappointed. Yet.
Ed made it long enough to get a tea break, which was apparently what a ‘taut twenty’ meant.
“Having fun?” Stede asked as he passed Ed his cup.
Ed took a sip and sighed. Just how he liked it.
“Yeah, I am.”
“I'm glad,” Stede smiled. His smiles were always so genuine. Ed was maybe a bit addicted to making them happen. “How do you feel about trying something really meaty? A soliloquy?”
With Stede’s faith in him making him feel unstoppable, Ed without hesitation said: “Bring it on.”
Another twenty minutes later, Ed was on stage alone trying his best to ignore the others sitting in the audience. He cleared his throat and snapped his script in a failed attempt to straighten it out.
Now or never.
“Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.”
He wasn't much good at not sounding completely flat as he was actively reading, so he skimmed ahead a few lines and closed his eyes to recite them. Tried to imagine he was this guy.
But plotting murder was probably too close to home. Memories of his dad, loud and looming and terrifying, and Ed's young fucked-up hopes of all the ways he could die began to surface, interweaving with Macbeth's mental state.
The sound of his own voice was drowned out by his pulse thudding in his ears. Matching the beat of his dad's blows. The thud of him tripping over Ed's leg on the pier. Over and over and over-
“Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still,
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of b-blood,” Ed choked on the word as if it were the real thing, rushing his next line out double-speed just to get through it.
“Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse-”
He threw the script to the floor with a thump that made him startle, sent him crashing back into his body.
Now the only sound in the entire theatre was his rasping breath. He was sweating and shaking, and he fled, tripping over his own feet without even looking at his audience.
-----
A stunned silence filled the room in Ed's absence.
“Wow. Well. I think that's a wrap for today guys!” Stede said, jumping to his feet. “You can all head home early.”
“Is he okay?” Swede asked.
Stede was already making his way to the door Ed had exited.
“I'm just going to check. But I'm sure everything is fine.” That was a lie, but he knew that having the whole crew crowding Ed and asking questions wouldn't be the best idea.
“Let us know, yeah?” Olu said. “Seemed… intense.”
“Right. Yes. I will.”
Stede left them, rushing into the empty corridor. Maybe Ed had left and gone home? Stede was going to check everywhere in this building, just in case.
The toilets were just to his left, and as soon as he entered, he heard sniffling. One stall was locked.
“Ed?” No answer. “Edward?”
Stede went into the next stall.
“Ed, I'm going to look over the divider to check on you, okay? Tell me now if you're not, um, decent.”
A muffled whimper but no protest. Stede hopped up on the toilet lid and leaned over into the next stall, holding onto the dividing wall. Ed was sat on the closed seat hugging his knees.
“Hey,” Stede said gently.
“Hi,” Ed sniffed, not looking up.
Stede had enough sense to know that now might not be the best time to congratulate Ed's raw performance. Even if the words had got a bit jumbled up and whole lines had been skipped over, it had been incredible.
“‘M not a good person, Stede,” Ed's voice cracked. “Thought I could forget, try somethin’ different. Move on. But I was just- I'm j-just fake-”
“No, Ed. You are a good person. A wonderful person,” Stede pressed as Ed shook his head. “And you have every right to move on from things in your life-”
“I killed my dad,” Ed blurted.
He looked up at Stede then, eyes red and puffy, still wet with tears. There was a defiance to him though, like a growling dog expecting a beating.
“Well. I'm sure he must have deserved it.”
That surprised a rough laugh out of Ed, shaking his head again. He focused on picking at the knees of his jeans where the black faded to grey.
“I mean, yeah. He was a dick. Beat my mum. And me. Drunk all the fuckin’ time, pissing away all our money.” He paused. “Went to find him one night, saw him stumbling around on the dock and I just… tripped him. He fell right in the water and I just watched him. Watched him drown. Standing right next to a life preserver.”
“Oh, Ed. How old were you?”
Ed shrugged. “A kid.”
“Can you unlock the door, do you think?”
Ed hesitated before uncurling to lean forward and twist the lock. Stede was immediately down and at the door. For some reason he still rapped gently before opening it. Ed roughly scrubbed his face against his sleeve and Stede crouched down, grabbing his elbow to stop him.
“Hey, you'll make your poor face all sore. Let me help?”
“Okay,” Ed breathed, his voice so small and fragile that it broke Stede's heart. Ed looked at him with those big, dark eyes full of uncertain trust.
“Lovely. Come on,” Stede coaxed him up. “Let's go to the sink, hm?”
He soaked paper towels in cold water and gently pressed them against Ed's eyes. Ed sighed at the sensation, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.
“There we are.” Stede folded the paper to carefully wipe Ed's cheeks with a freshly cool part. “I still think you're wonderful by the way.”
“You're insane,” Ed muttered.
“Maybe,” Stede admitted. “But not for thinking that.”
“You'll make me fucking cry again.”
“If that's what you need to do. It's okay.”
“Fuck,” Ed's voice was tight as if he really was holding back another wave of tears. He dropped his forehead onto Stede's shoulder instead and Stede held him instinctively.
“Would you like to go home? I'll drive you.”
“Yeah. Please.”
“Alright. Let's go.”
His hand stayed on Ed's arm as they walked out, all the way to Stede's car. Stede opened the passenger door for him and ran around to the driver's side.
“Huh. Not what I expected,” Ed looked around, already sounding more like himself.
“No?” Stede started the engine.
“I mean I don't know what I expected. Something fancy I guess, ‘cos you're a fancy kinda guy.”
Stede smiled, pulling out onto the street. “I did have a ridiculous company BMW and was more than happy to leave it with my family. I replaced it with this practical creature,” Stede patted the steering wheel. “More space in the back and in the trunk. A proper family car.”
Ed twisted around to look in the back.
“Fuck. You got kids?”
“Yes! Two, Alma and Louis-
“Fuck-”
Ed sounded like he was going to cry again, but Stede couldn’t really take his eyes off the road. Was it because Stede being a dad reminded him of dads in general, and therefore his own? Did he immediately recognise that Stede was a shitty father?
“I admit I'm not a great dad but I can assure you I've never laid a hand on them. It's possible they might have emotional scars from my incompetence, but if they do it certainly wasn't my intention to put them there!
“They have Doug now, who's probably already a better parent to them than I ever was. Mary and I had a fight on Louis’ third birthday and she said she hadn't anticipated I'd be the third child in our family and I needed to step up. That I wasn't the fun uncle, I was their father. I was never any good at the discipline.”
Stede grimaced at the memory and his rant.
“So… divorced?”
“Yep! Almost a year now. I have the kids every other weekend. Maybe more when, I quote, ‘have my shit together.’”
“That rough,” Ed said, not sounding upset anymore.
“Oh no. Best scenario for all involved I think. Mary and I are friends, but in hindsight we never loved each other, just hoped that we would. Arranged marriage and all that.”
“Sorry what?”
Stede waved his hand dismissively. “All money and business nonsense. My dad was a bit of a dick too.”
“Sounds like you've had an interesting time of it.”
“Hah! Yes. This year has been quite the experience. I feel like I'm living my own life for the first time. Sounds a bit sad doesn't it, putting it like that.”
“Nah. I know what you mean. I think I feel a bit like that too.”
Stede glanced over at him, long enough for them to share a smile.
“Better late than never, eh?”
“Exactly. And um, I just realised I have no idea where you live and have been driving towards my home.”
“That's cool. I uh- I wouldn't mind. If you don't. I don't think… I don't really wanna be alone.”
“That's absolutely fine. I could also stay with you at yours if being in your own space would be more comfortable?”
“No, I think I'd prefer not to be there.”
“Okay. Oh! Hey, I have an idea. I'm just going to stop off for a minute. You can stay in the car and I promise I'll be right back.”
-----
Ed sat in the car outside a coffee shop, listening to Mariah singing All I Want For Christmas Is You on the radio. Which was a bit on the nose, but Ed didn't care. Despite the roller coaster of emotions getting here, Ed was happy. He thought it was highly likely that Stede would always succeed in making him happy. So sue him for getting a bit sappy and romantic over a song for a holiday he didn't even celebrate.
Stede emerged from the shop, drinks in hand, looking like a dream. Hair a bit mussed from the wind, scarf and sweater making him look cosy as fuck. Yeah, Ed wouldn't mind spending the whole winter cuddled up to Stede.
“Here you go!” Stede handed him the cups as he got in the car.
Ed took a sip, expecting what he'd begun to think of as his usual, but the flavour took him by surprise.
“Hot chocolate?”
“Is that okay? I think it's a nice little treat on a cold day, and there's something comforting about it, don't you think?”
“Yeah, it's- yeah. Perfect. Thanks.”
“And sufficiently sweet, of course,” Stede smiled. “You have all the marshmallows and sprinkles.”
Ed popped the lid off to see cream drizzled with caramel and chocolate, dusted with cocoa powder, little gold star sprinkles and tiny marshmallows. It nearly brought tears to his eyes again. Stede was giving this shit a run for its money with regards to sweetness.
“Perfect,” he repeated, taking another sip. Really savouring it this time.
It didn’t take long for them to reach Stede’s little apartment. Even though he’d only been there a year, it already seemed more homely than Ed’s place did. Chunky-knit throws on the furniture, shelves absolutely packed with books, a couple of paintings on the wall - a beach landscape and an abstract lighthouse. Evidence of kids too, crates of toys waiting for them, drawings stuck to the fridge.
When Ed returned from another attempt to neaten himself up in a bathroom, Stede was surrounded by blankets and cushions in the living room.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a blanket fort!”
Holy fuck, he was literally perfect.
“I’m incredible at blanket forts. Let’s do this.”
They worked together easily and efficiently, arranging chairs as supports and draping soft fabrics until they had a proper cosy little cave. Ed snuggled into it immediately but Stede was still fussing around outside. He came back in with a precariously balanced tray of snacks and tea, tablet tucked under his arm.
“Right! Here we go, all set.”
Stede set up the tablet on its stand as Ed rescued the tray from him. When Stede finally settled down on the cushions beside him, Ed immediately leaned against him, head against his shoulder. Stede looked down at him with a smile and pressed back. Ed hoped to convey that if he hadn’t been feeling so vulnerable, he’d be kissing Stede senseless. He wasn’t sure that Stede got the message. He queued up Bluey on the tablet and cradled his cup close to his chest.
“Originally I just watched it with the kids but… it is really good at making me feel better. I hope it works for you too.”
I already feel better. Everything’s so nice with you.
Ed just hummed but halfway through one episode, he had to agree the little dog family were sweet. He couldn’t help but think of Stede’s parenting being like Bluey’s dad, happy to get into the children’s games and making them laugh with his robot impressions.
If Stede built blanket forts and got cocoa for hard times, played and watched Bluey, Ed didn’t think he could be a bad parent. He’d be a pretty amazing one, actually. As someone who had been way too disciplined as a child, he found discipline to be overrated.
“Hey, Stede?” Ed spoke up before the next episode.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you dare pay me for today.”
“But-”
“I’m taking a sick day, yeah? And… we’re… friends, right?”
“Yes, I hope so. I mean, I’d like that. Very much.”
Stede had that sweet, hopeful little smile that tugged on Ed’s heart. Like he was happy but wary of showing it. Ed thought he must have a lot of experience in waiting for the other shoe to drop, of any good thing coming with a caveat. Seemed to be in the top ten rules that shitty fathers parented by.
“Yeah so, it makes it weird for there to be this barrier of work contracts and payment when I’m not actually on the clock.”
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I just don’t want you missing out when it’s kind of my fault.”
Ed waved his hand. “It’s fine. I’m not struggling for money. I just wanna… hang out with you, yeah?”
“Yes,” Stede nodded and squeezed the back of Ed’s hand. “I want that too.”
“C’mon then,” Ed flopped back down, hooking his leg with Stede’s. “What are the lil pups up to this time?”
-----
Everyone broke out into rapid murmuring when Stede arrived at the theatre with Ed the next morning. Ed went straight up to continue his work. Stede had assured him that he wouldn’t have to try acting ever again if he didn’t want to, and Ed seemed more than happy with that.
“Sooo,” Lucius sidled up to Stede while most of the crew were preparing their first scene of the day. “How was last night, hmm?” He waggled his eyebrows and Stede frowned.
“It was fine. I mean, Ed was suffering and I tried to comfort him as best I could. I think it worked out.”
“I’d say.”
“Yes, he certainly has a spring back in his step this morning, doesn’t he?”
“A good lay will do that to you.”
“Hm, well he fell asleep on my shoulder on a pile of cushions, and then when we did go to bed he insisted on taking the couch. If he had actually had a comfortable, supine sleeping position, he might be faring even better.”
“Wait- wait. Stede. Are you telling me you didn’t have sex?”
“What?! Lucius! No! Of course not! What even- Where would you even get such an idea?”
Lucius rolled his eyes. “From all the signals he’s giving you? From how sickening the two of you are together? And what do you mean ‘of course not’? Why not?”
“Uh-” Stede floundered, suddenly thinking about Ed in a very different way.
He imagined Ed leaning over to kiss him in the blanket fort, and it didn’t seem much of a stretch to reality. Did he want to kiss Ed? Now that he was thinking about it, he thought he might.
His attempt at both a romantic and sexual relationship with Mary had been a disaster - with the latter being particularly uncomfortable. He’d always just assumed it was a problem with him, that he wouldn’t be any good at relationships. He never put any thought into questioning his sexuality, he just lived with the idea he was a heterosexual man who was very bad at sex.
But now Ed’s face wouldn’t leave his mind. His smile, his laugh, and the question of what a beardy kiss would feel like, the excitement that mystery left him with…
He sat down right there on the floor.
“Lucius. I think I might be gay?”
“Oh my God. You didn’t actually know. Okay. A lot to unpack here but I’m not sitting on the floor with you, it’ll fuck up my back. C’mon, let’s go to Sweet.”
Stede went without argument, not particularly keen on having the whole crew overhearing the impending conversation. Lucius ordered the drinks and Stede tucked himself into a seat at the back.
“Okay, drink up. We are gonna talk.”
Stede obediently took a sip and spluttered.
“Lucius! Is there whiskey in this?”
“Oh yeah. I asked Fang to make it Irish. As Irish as a river dancing leprechaun.” Lucius took a big gulp of his own and sighed. “We’re gonna need it, trust me. I know I will.”
“It’s a bit early in the day, don’t you think?”
Lucius raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one having the gay revelation, not me.”
“Aright, alright,” Stede took a gulp of his own, hoping the generous dash of liquid courage in his coffee would help him get through this.
“So,” Lucius leaned in, arms folded on the table. “You’ve never thought about men before?”
Stede sighed. “No.”
“But do you think about women?”
Stede’s nose wrinkled involuntarily. “No.”
“Alright. But there’s a difference in your feelings towards those questions already, isn’t there?”
Stede nodded. “I just… don’t think I… allowed myself to consider other options. Does that even make sense?”
“Of course,” Lucius said more gently than Stede had expected. “Repression is a huge thing for a lot of queer folks. There are so many people who, tragically, don’t find out who they really are, what really makes them happy, until much later in life.”
“You think?” Stede stared into his coffee.
“I know. Stede, I surround myself with the queer community. It’s my community. The family I’ve found and made for myself, y’know?”
“Oh.” Stede blinked back tears. “That sounds nice.”
“It is. It’s incredible. Did you not know that you basically have an all-queer theatre company? I thought it was intentional.”
“I do?” Stede looked up.
“Jim-”
“Well I know Jim’s nonbinary,” Stede said, rolling his eyes.
“Yep. Did you know they’re dating Archie? And that Archie would never fuck a guy? That Olu was also dating Jim and I think they’ve got a polyam sitch going on. John does drag, Frenchie’s ace, and like, pretty much everyone else is bi. I’ve got no fucking clue about Buttons though.”
Stede laughed, perhaps just a touch too loud. “The only person who knows what’s going on with him is probably some pagan deity.”
Lucius toasted him for that. “You’re not off the hook that easy though, let’s get back to you. Do you not get… sexual desires often? I just feel like you would have realised sooner, if you did. Horny people tend to figure their shit out because they’ve gone through a ton of trial-and-error.”
“Right. Yes. I suppose not.” Stede fiddled with the corners of the paper napkin on the table.
“Do you think you’re ace? Asexual?”
“Um-” Stede wasn’t too familiar with sexualities outside of gay, bi and lesbian, but he got the gist. “I don’t think so?”
“Because when I mentioned you and Ed having sex, that wasn’t a turn off?”
Stede felt his cheeks immediately start burning. He coughed. “No. In fact… it might be quite the opposite.”
Lucius clapped his hands together. “Nice. So. There you are. You know what you want.”
“Do I?” Stede could feel himself beginning to fret. “Is it that easy?”
“It can be, if you let it.”
“I want it to be.”
“You can make it be, in fact you kind of have to. It’s down to you to make your own life and choices. You’ve gotta go and get your man.”
Lucius leaned back in his seat, drinking more of his coffee and Stede felt… freed. He felt lighter. Like he could do exactly what Lucius said and life really could be easy.
He did know for certain that he wanted Ed in his life. That it would be a dream to see Ed every single day, for them to share space and things and moments. To share his life, he realised - this newly discovered life - with Ed. Only wonderful, amazing, perfect Ed.
For Ed just to be hired to fix the theatre and then leave for good wasn’t an option. Stede figured it hadn’t been an option after the first day, he just hadn’t thought far enough ahead to imagine what would happen when the job was finished.
“You said something about signals earlier?”
“Oh sure, that man is gone on you.”
“Wow. You’re sure? Me?”
“Yes, Stede. Don’t talk yourself out of this one.”
“I’m not! I’m absolutely going to ‘get my man’, as you so aptly put it.”
“That’s the spirit.”
----
Seeing Ed again after the conversation with Lucius left Stede rather breathless. How could he have been so ignorant of his own self? Of course he wanted to kiss this man. And gosh, wasn’t he just beautiful? He had always known that but he supposed he had never really allowed himself to look. Never allowed his heart to have any input to his thoughts.
His lovely deep, dark eyes-
“Stede?” Ed was now frowning. Oops. How long had Stede just been… gazing at him?
“Hi! Hello! How are you doing, Ed?”
“...Fiiine. How are you though?”
“Oh I’m great! Fantastic. Marvellous, even!”
“Wow,” Ed raised his eyebrows. “That’s good. Better than, sounds like.”
“Yep! Actually, I came to ask you something.”
“Sure, shoot.”
“Do you want to go out tonight? Dinner? With me?” He hastily added.
“O-oh yeah- yes!” Ed brightened. “Absolutely. Count me in.”
“Wonderful.” Stede finally understood why smiling like this was referred to as beaming. He really felt like his joy might just shine out of him.
“Are we celebrating something?”
“Ah, no. Just dinner!”
“Are you sure someone didn’t put something in your drink?”
“Only whiskey.”
“Okayyyy… When and where? For dinner.”
“Oh, I just thought we could go together after work.”
“I might need to scrub up a bit first, mate,” Ed grimaced down at himself.
“Nonsense! You’ll be fine!” The idea of putting any more of a delay between now and dinner seemed absolutely untenable. And more time always meant more space for anxiety to creep in. Stede was desperate to ride on his current confidence-high, which would have certainly abated by then.
Ed narrowed his eyes. “You sure?”
“Unless you’d be more comfortable going home first? Then we can schedule a time.”
Ed’s grimace came back at the word schedule.
“Nah, fuck it, you’re right. We’re being spontaneous, yeah? Can’t fuckin’... schedule fun, can we?”
“Great!”
There was a beat of awkward silence.
“I’ll just uh-” Ed pointed his thumb behind him. “Crack on then.”
“Yes- yes of course! I’ll um, see you later,” Stede said, feeling rather stupid for it.
“You sure will,” Ed smiled, flashed a wink at him and Stede nearly fell off the ladder.
------
Ed was 97.5% sure that Stede had asked him on a date. A proper dinner date. Probably at a fancy, romantic restaurant, except that Stede didn’t want him to wash and change - hence the 2.5% doubt.
No one had taken him out to dinner to woo him before, and Ed channelled all of his excitable and nervous energy into working. He was actually nearing the end of the work he could do here, especially alone, but he hopefully wouldn’t need to delay the inevitability of him finishing anymore. Not if him and Stede became a thing.
He got so involved that after spending most of the day watching the clock, he actually lost track of time.
“Knock-knock,” Stede said from the top of the ladder.
“Oh fuck, sorry. Lost track of time.”
Ed immediately dropped his tools and dusted himself down.
“You’re alright Ed. It’s not really possible for us to be late. I can wait if you need more time.”
“Nope. No. We’re good. Just gotta freshen up then we can go.”
Ed went directly to the toilets, untied his hair from its bun, shook it out, tried to brush out the worst of the dust and woodchips, and re-tied it in a half-up do that looked a bit more classy. He stripped off his shirt to at least get rid of some of the sweat with soap and water and dried off with handfuls of paper towels.
Stede waited for him in the foyer, that lovely silky-looking sea-green scarf snug around his throat, beige peacoat neatly buttoned.
“Do you have deodorant or something I can use?” Ed asked, not trusting the bathroom hand soap to make him smell good.
Stede dug into his little satchel and pulled out a fancy little bottle of cologne. Of course he did.
“Here we are, chin up?”
Stede proceeded to actually spritz him with it which felt way more intimate than it had any right to. Especially when his next breath was filled with the scent of Stede, which was now all over Ed.
“Bourbon vanilla,” Stede informed him. “And juniper, cardamom, among other things.”
“‘S nice. Thanks.”
“You’re most welcome,” Stede smiled. “I’ll drive?”
“Okay.” Ed's mind was already racing. Taking one car was sensible, but he couldn’t help but follow the night to the conclusion of being taken back to Stede’s place.
They ended up at an Indian restaurant. Nice but not fancy, and Ed found himself at ease. This was familiar territory.
Stede excused himself after they ordered a bunch of starters to share, but he returned quickly, a different waiter in tow. The waiter set a candle in the centre of the table and lit it with a match.
“There you are, Sir,” he said to Stede with a smile. “I’ll be back with your wine.”
Then they were alone again, Stede’s eyes sparking in the candlelight and Ed could feel himself blushing. Stede’s hand reached across the table towards Ed’s and-
“Oh God,” Stede said, the lovely rose tinge to his cheeks draining away. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Huh? What? Stede, what’s wrong?”
“This, this was meant to be a date but Ed, I don’t even know if you’re gay! Or- or already in a relationship! Because that seems highly likely- and- and-”
“Stede.” Ed caught his hand. “Breathe. I was really hoping this was a date, actually. Because I’m very gay, very single, and very into you.”
“Oh.” The colour came back to Stede’s face with a sweet smile. “Good. I mean, Lucius said but he wouldn’t really know, would he? He’s just making assumptions and I just. Well.” He shrugged. “Worried.”
Ed slid his foot over to rest against Stede’s. “He probably has a pretty good gaydar, that one.”
“That’s true. Ed I- this all seems a bit insane, we’ve known each other for four days-”
“Feels like longer though, doesn’t it?”
“It really, really does.” Stede squeezed his hand. “And I also… only realised I was gay this morning.”
“What?!”
“I know, I know,” Stede waved his free hand. “It seems like everyone else was already aware. But I sort of just… missed the memo, I suppose.”
“Not to go on a huge ego trip or anything but… are you saying I made you realise you were gay?”
“Well of course, Ed! Have you seen yourself recently? But it’s not just that you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, you make me feel like myself. I like being myself when I’m with you. And… you make me happy, Ed.”
“You make me happy too,” Ed breathed, feeling distant, as if he were in a dream. “So fucking happy, Stede, you have no idea. Spending time with you is the most fun I’ve had in years. I wanna spend so much time with you.”
“Oh, Ed. You’re going to make me cry.”
“Only if they’re happy tears.”
Stede nodded, wiping beneath his eyes with his thumb.
“So hey, we are celebrating something, eh?”
“That we’re… dating?” Stede said, his cute blush deepening.
“Well, yeah but your coming out too, right?”
“Oh! That’s nice. Do I need to ‘come out’ if everyone thought I was already out though?”
“Who gives a shit about anyone else. We’re celebrating and fuckin’ dating,” Ed grinned, pratically bouncing in his seat.
Right on cue, their wine arrived and was poured for them and Ed lifted his glass in toast.
“To being gay, in every sense of the word.”
Stede clinked his glass against Ed’s. “To living my truest, gayest life!”
“Fuck yes!”
They drank and burst into giggles. After that, everything just fell naturally into place. Conversation was easy, the food was excellent, and… Stede was pretty much Ed’s best friend, regardless of if they were dating or not. They had fun.
Stede was lamenting the latest rehearsal.
“I don’t know, Ed,” he sighed, after they’d laughed at the latest crew antics. “You’re right, maybe I should just give up on Macbeth.”
“Why’s your heart so set on it anyway?”
“Some silly idea of proving myself. That I could show my interests weren’t frivolous wastes of time and actually… meaningful. But proving myself to who, and for what? My father is long dead, good riddance, and I shouldn’t have to prove anything to him anyway.”
“I think you need to do something fun. Like a family-friendly comedy. I think the crew would do a good bit of slapstick.”
Stede chewed in thought for a moment before lighting up.
“Ed! I know exactly what we have to do! Oh, this will be perfect!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Panto! I’m thinking Cinderella. Yes. It’s got to be. Oh, I have so many ideas already!”
Ed could see it already, it would be perfect. And insane. Perfectly insane.
“You’ve only got a few weeks of panto season left though,” Ed pointed out.
“We’ll be fine. I’ve got this. I don’t think we’ll need much time at all.”
Confidence and enthusiasm were very attractive on Stede, who rambled about his panto ideas through dessert and they entire way back to his place. Ed couldn’t get enough. As soon as Stede parked, Ed kissed him.
“Hi,” Stede murmured breathlessly when they parted.
“Hey.”
Stede swallowed. “Do you… want to come in?”
He spoke in a whisper but the implication hung heavy in the air.
Ed wanted to. He wanted so badly. But Stede looked nervous and it’s been four days sprang into Ed’s mind. Stede hadn’t even been out for 24 hours yet. Stede was brave, so brave and determined, but Ed didn’t want to fuck this up. Most of his relationships had been toxic as hell. He didn’t want to ruin this.
He stroked Stede’s cheek as gently as he could. “Can we take this slow?”
“Ah. O-of course. Whatever you want.”
“Thanks.” Ed kissed him again, chaste and fleeting otherwise he’d never make it out of the car. “And thanks for tonight. I had a really good time.”
“You're welcome.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Oh. Um. Yes, alright. Do you want me to drive you home?”
“Nah, it’s alright. I’ll walk some of that food off.”
“Okay.” They both got out of the car and looked at each other across it. “Goodnight then.”
Ed got two streets away, relishing the cold air, before he realised what a fucking idiot he was.
Whatever you want, Stede’s voice echoed in his memory.
Because this was what Ed wanted. Despite Stede’s sudden gay epiphany, Stede had wanted Ed to come in. Stede must have missed out on so much in his life and now he finally realised who he was and what he wanted, Ed was denying him.
He shouldn’t make Stede the scapegoat for his own fears.
And fuck, if Stede hadn’t looked disappointed when he’d said goodnight.
I wanna spend so much time with you.
Then why the fuck wasn’t he?
Ed was already running back down the street. He yelled at someone to hold the door as they were going into the apartment block, even though Ed was still a fair distance away. He sped up, panted some bullshit about forgetting his key, and continued running up the stairs.
He banged on Stede’s door.
As soon as the door opened, Stede’s face broke into a beaming smile.
“Ed! You came back!”
Ed’s arms were around him, backing him into the apartment as he kissed him.
“Should never have left.”
“We don’t have to do anything,” Stede said, his fingers absently combing through the soft little hairs at the back of Ed’s neck. “I’m enjoying just this.”
“I wanna do everything with you, Stede,” Ed nibbled Stede’s earlobe, making him squirm in Ed’s arms. “I just didn’t want to rush you. Or fuck it up. Because you were right, we are going pretty fast, but you have been waiting a long time. I want to give you what you want.”
“More of this, please.”
So they kissed, and kissed and kissed. Until they were breathless and Stede had led them into his bedroom. A fucking four-poster bed with fancy gauzy curtains and everything. Ed laughed in delight.
“Fuck me, this is incredible. You’re incredible.”
Ed held Stede’s face in his hands and kissed his smile.
“Do you fancy anything else yet?” He asked, looking into Stede’s eyes.
Stede bit his lip. “Yes. What- what would you suggest?”
“Hmm… I could suck you off?”
Stede made a little eep noise which was so fucking adorable, Ed had to kiss him again.
“Yes please. If you enjoy that too?”
“Oh, mate. I love it.”
Then they were on the bed, kissing and trying to wriggle out of their clothes. Stede kissed across Ed’s tattoos in a way that made him feel treasured, and he tried not to dig his nails into Stede’s soft, perfect skin too hard. He wasn’t going anywhere. They were here. Together.
When he finally managed to get Stede’s pants down, he could feel himself salivating.
“Stede with a D, huh? You weren’t lying.”
“What? Oh, hm. Is it a problem? It’s rather on the large side, isn’t it? Mary always found it uncomfortable…”
“It’s fucking perfect. Can’t wait to choke on this beast.”
“Ed!” Stede gasped, but his thick, long, very interested dick twitched against his thigh.
“Oh yeah, I’m going down on that. Ready for me to blow your mind?” Ed winked.
Stede blinked, looking somewhat stunned, and reached up to hold Ed’s shoulders.
“Kiss me first.”
Ed did, gladly. Sweeping his tongue into Stede’s mouth and holding him close in a way that Ed had already learnt made Stede whimper.
He left Stede breathless and scooched down his body, peppering his stomach with kisses as he went. He looked up and winked when he reached his destination.
“Oh God,” Stede moaned, clutching at Ed’s hair.
Ed grinned, dipping down to lick one slow stroke up from root to tip. Stede made a muffled noise, one leg hooking over Ed’s hip. Ed looked up again as he swirled his tongue around the head, seeing Stede with the back of his hand over his mouth.
“Hey, hey,” Ed murmured. “C’mon. I wanna hear that you're enjoying yourself.”
Stede shakily removed his hand.
“Perfect,” Ed kissed his hip and slipped the head of Stede’s dick past his lips.
Stede groaned, long and low, fingers clenching and unclenching in Ed’s hair.
Ed went slow. It had been awhile, even longer with a dick this big. He took Stede in, inch by inch, and held his hips down firmly when he couldn’t help but buck up with frantic apologies.
Ed got him just into his throat, and he was already feeling so warm and floaty, but decided to pull back. Knew that he could take a break and catch a breather. Knew he had the space to be kind to himself and think of his own needs. That was kind of a first with sex for him.
Still, he made his retreat just as slow and pleasurable, easing off with a gentle rocking in-and-out, utilising his tongue when he was able to. Finally, he dropped Stede’s hard, leaking dick from his mouth, panting.
“Wow,” Stede breathed. “That was incredible.”
Ed laughed, nuzzling into his hip.
“It’s not over yet. Just catching my breath before I go for the real thing.”
“The real thing?” Stede squeaked.
“Mmm,” Ed hummed, crawling back up his body to kiss his flushed face.
A curl had plastered itself to Stede’s forehead, and Ed thought he’d never been more handsome. He indulged in rubbing himself against Stede’s hip as Stede kissed him again, moaning into his mouth as Stede pressed against the small of his back. Holding him there, encouraging him.
“If you go back down there,” Stede panted. “I think I’ll come before you can even show me the ‘real thing’.”
Ed grinned. “I definitely want you to come. Whenever you need to.”
“Okay,” Stede gulped as Ed moved back.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Ed took him down a bit faster this time, easing him into his throat, listening to Stede’s sweet noises.
“Oh fuck- oh Ed, God- that’s so good. You’re so good- fuck-”
Ed swallowed and Stede whimpered.
“Ed- Ed- if you keep doing that I’m- ahhh- I’m gonna- Ed! I’m-”
Ed felt the heat of Stede’s release and kept swallowing. Kept him there until Stede’s limbs slipped from him, loose and sated. He kind of wanted to stay there, his own pleasure a distant, warm fuzz, his primary focus just keeping his breathing measured. It was almost meditative.
“Ed-” Stede whined, and Ed slipped off him - much more easily now Stede was softening.
“Good?” Ed rasped.
“Incredible,” Stede sighed, lying boneless on the bed. “But oh, Ed,” he cooed, reaching up. “Your poor throat.”
He stroked Ed’s throat, so careful and gentle that Ed shivered.
“Is this okay?”
“Perfect.”
“What do you want me to do for you?”
Ed just closed his eyes, leaning against Stede’s warmth, allowing him to tenderly massage his throat. He felt small, but so safe. He’d never felt this way with anyone in any situation. Stede was out here embracing his true self and desires, maybe Ed could be brave enough to follow his example.
“Just… take care of me?”
“Of course, darling.”
A small moan left Ed’s mouth unbidden at the endearment and Stede pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Let me know if I can make anything feel better, won’t you?”
“Yeah,” Ed sighed, already knowing that he wouldn’t need to say anything.
Stede held him, kissed him and stroked him with a firm, confident hand. Despite everything, he felt capable, and Ed felt like he could give himself over easily. It might be frightening, how easy it was, if Ed’s mind wasn’t fogged with pleasure.
Stede let go of him and Ed grumbled incoherently.
“I just need to get something for you,” Stede kissed him in apology before digging around in the bedside drawer.
He produced a small pot of cream and scooped a generous amount out onto his palm.
“Face cream,” he admitted as he rubbed it between his hands. “I don’t have any lube in the immediate vicinity, unfortunately.”
“That’s- ah- that’s good. This is good,” Ed managed as Stede’s hand wrapped around his shaft again and slid upward in a delicious glide. “Really good.”
Every time Ed’s eyes fluttered open, Stede was watching him with fascination and a singular focus. It made Ed blush to have such devoted attention. He squirmed against the delightfully silky sheets and moaned. Stede’s eyebrows raised in acknowledgement and he repeated the twist of his wrist.
“Yeah- yeah- just like that Stede,” Ed groaned.
Then Stede leaned down to kiss across Ed’s chest, and when his tongue curled around his nipple, Ed bucked up into him. Stede got the hint, a sharp nip was quickly followed by gentle licks and Ed fucked into Stede’s fist.
“Stede-” he whined, feeling the wave of his arousal cresting.
“It’s okay darling, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Stede murmured against his skin, pressing his gentle words in with kisses, sealing them in amongst Ed’s tattoos.
“Fuck-” Ed bit out, scrabbling to hold Stede close, needing him closer.
“I’ve got you. Oh Ed, you’re so beautiful.”
Ed came with a sob, feeling so much. Stede held him and stroked him through it. Brought him back down with those soft butterfly kisses.
“Hey,” Ed said once he got his breath back,
Stede smiled down at him and the only way Ed could think to describe him was adoring. Imagine that. Edward Teach. Adored.
“Hi,” Stede brushed the hair from Ed’s face. “Okay?”
“Never better,” Ed said entirely truthfully.
“Me too,” Stede smiled, curling against him, hand over Ed’s heart.
Ed placed his own hand on top, threading their fingers together, feeling the steady and strong thump, thump, thump of his heart.
I love you, Ed was brave enough to think in that moment, if only to himself. So, so much.