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Izzy looks up from his hands, ears perked, the sound of footsteps echoing long down the hall. Edward. He could hear him from a lifetime away. Stede is rising in response to that same instinct, flouncing to the door with coat tails wagging.
When Edward enters the room, their focus is entirely on him. Stede is already there, taking his jacket. His movements are quick and bold and ecstatic. A million silent questions are scattered in between each touch.
Where were you? How are you? You smell different. You look the same. I’ve thought of you every day since my life began and I’ll never grow tired of it. Did you miss me? Do you love me?
Across the room, Izzy’s eyes shine. Candlelight against something feral. Stede heels at Edward’s side, bristling with glee, two tails and fur fluttering. Edward scruffs fingers at the nape of his neck and kisses him.
There’s a part of Izzy that finds Stede’s excitement to be ridiculous. Excessive and embarrassing. Even still, there’s another part of him that desperately wants to follow Stede’s example.
Izzy shifts to sit straighter on the couch and Ed gives him a fond look over Stede’s shoulder.
I knew you’d come back, something in Izzy says. From that place far away. From that place where I wasn’t.
Stede had asked Izzy once if he loved him. Had peeked at him shyly over the rise and fall of Edward’s chest. The three of them were dogpiled together, nude, breathing rhythmic and warm in the dark. There was a scattering of blonde across Stede’s face. Izzy could see a strand on Edward’s stomach and had thought, if angels shed, that was the result.
He hadn’t been able to answer.
Edward passes behind Izzy. Grabs him by his cravat like a collar. Tugs them both to the bed and lets them run their eyes and hands and tongues over him in greeting and submission.
Izzy thinks about touching Edward a long time ago. Dragging his hands over open wounds and half-healed scars with a growl in his chest. Edward had turned to laugh. Had scratched his fingers gently across the top of Izzy’s head and told him to calm down.
When Izzy had finally torn Hornigold’s throat out with his teeth, it had tasted like the salt he’d licked from Edward’s palm that night.
Attack dog. Dumb mutt. Loyal beast. Baying at the moon for something he never allowed himself to have. And now whenever Edward leaves Izzy curls up against the warmth of Stede’s chest because he can. An old dog still learning new tricks.
His tongue is lolling out over the head of Edward’s cock and Stede is calling him good and it shouldn’t be so easy for him to slip into that deep, calming rhythm of their intimacy. Wasn’t always. But Izzy is hardwired now to crave these acts of service. He is a creature that requires purpose and stimulation.
Stede moves up behind him. Eases Izzy’s hips up, and places a pillow down to support his shorter leg. And once Izzy is in his proper place beneath him, Stede mounts him in one long, hungry push. He gasps Izzy’s name, and then Stede’s voice dissolves into a high whine of pleasure and need.
Izzy stubbornly admires Stede’s enthusiasm for taking what he desires. Shivers at the realization that it’s him.
Edward’s hand twists into Izzy’s hair. He braces himself and tries to take in Ed’s face through the blur of his choked-out tears. Wants to see the parting of Ed’s lips that sends a familiar warmth down Izzy’s body, straight to his cock. A reaction conditioned so deep into his being that Izzy can practically hear a bell in the distance.
“Did you miss me Iz?”
And Izzy hopes the way he’s looking at Edward is enough of an answer. Because even without a cock stuffed balls-deep in his mouth he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to say out loud whatever idiotic poetry Stede has taught Edward to expect in response to questions like that.
Of course I missed you, you brilliant idiot. I always miss you. The absence of you is something I physically feel. I would wait in the fucking rain for you if you asked me to. I would chew my own leg off to get back to you.
“He missed you,” Stede confirms through his labored breathing. “He was worried when you didn’t get back last night.”
Izzy slurps noisily up Edward’s shaft. He doesn’t want to hear all this. Drool dribbles and drips, covering the fur of Edward’s balls and Izzy’s chin. Ed gasps, head falling back and hips bucking up. It’s enough to push Izzy back into Stede, who doubles his efforts in response, hurtling towards an inevitable end. Giving quick, hard humps into Izzy that echo slapping skin around the room.
“Jesus Stede,” Edward groans.
Izzy is being pushed forward with each jerk of Stede’s hips, taking Edward’s cock down his throat in staccato. He thinks he might be able to cum from this alone. Bringing audible pleasure to these two men who hold such a baffling ownership over his happiness.
And even with Edward’s cock twitching down his throat and Stede emptying himself inside Izzy’s cunt, Izzy thinks perhaps this is love. Because he can’t name the feeling slamming around in his chest. And he cannot say what love is. Wouldn’t be able to describe it with words.
It’s something feral. Instinctual. Twisting away from unsure hands and lashing out at angry hearts. A soft underbelly guarded and isolated by snapping teeth. Coaxed into submission with time and respect. A blood-spattered muzzle to be praised and wiped clean.
To love Israel Hands is to be a collar and leash.
“C’mere Izzy,” Edward breathes, pulling Izzy off Stede’s cock and up his body. “Up mate. Good.”
Izzy follows obediently, and Ed guides him back onto the spit-soaked heat of his arousal. The feeling of Stede’s cum easing the way in has Edward rocking up into Izzy, and a fresh rush of warmth follows not long after. Izzy groans and curses, clenching around the sensation.
Stede’s hands come to rest on Izzy’s back, sliding up the raised, criss-crossed skin of his scars. Petting soothingly. The hot pressure of his chest follows and pins Izzy between their bodies. Stede hums, pleased. Stretches out around the two of them before curling in.
“You’re smearing jizz on me Stede,” Izzy grumbles.
But there’s no real bite to his bark. He can still feel Edward inside of him, growing soft. Is more than happy to lay here pressed beneath the pressure of Stede’s body until he has to be physically peeled off Edward’s stomach.
“I happen to know that you love being marked by us Izzy. So don‘t try to use that as an excuse to get out of cuddling.”
The fact that Stede is correct isn’t enough for Izzy to offer any verbal agreement. They lay quietly for a bit. Stede and Edward begin to talk, softly, somewhere in the distance. Izzy is drifting in and out of listening.
“But haven’t you ever seen a dog dream Edward? The way they kick and twitch?”
“Naw. Didn’t grow up with dogs.”
“It’s true,” Stede murmurs. Izzy can feel the tickle of his arm moving, playing with Edward’s hair over his shoulder. “They have dreams.”
Izzy hums in agreement. His eyes are closed, face pressed to Edward’s chest. He remembers seeing the alley dogs as a child. Lonely things, laid out in the shade. Filthy and unloved. Twitching and grunting in their troubled sleep.
“What would dogs even dream about?” Edward wonders in amusement. His hand brushes up the heat of Izzy’s skin to scratch rough at the back of his neck, just beneath his hair.
“My mother always said they dreamt about chasing rabbits. Running free and wild. Things like that.”
Izzy hums again, but it’s from too far away to sound like anything more than contentment.
Fuck freedom. Fuck running. Izzy is more than happy to dream of being owned.