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Ed closes the door quietly behind them.
After a beat of hesitation, he locks their door, too, settling them securely in here. It’s better that they’re alone, right now; Stede doesn’t think he can be in front of other people any longer. Today has been long enough as it is.
“So,” Ed says, in that voice that sounds so, so different from his, and yet inflecting in a strangely similar way. “Got a couple days until we find the witch, then.”
He’s not asking a question, but Stede still says, “Yes,” as if answering him.
That’s as far as he knows, anyway. It all happened so fast— the siege, and the curse, and the pain, and the swapping.
The swapping was probably the most shocking part of all of it. Even more stunning than the pain that rattled its way through Stede’s head, when he’s attacked during their raid on a strange ship they’d come upon out on the open sea, is the fact that the body he woke up in was not his, but Ed’s.
The same was true for Ed, in reverse; he had left his body, only to occupy Stede’s. The ship they’d raided had been gone before they woke up, before the crew figured out what had happened; it had taken several days of relentless, exhausting port-hopping to find someone who could direct them in the right direction to reverse this, but they still had a fair few more days to go before they got to this island that’s supposedly populated by witches-for-hire and other helpful magicians that can, in theory, help them fix what’s been done to them.
Until then, this is how things are. At this point, Stede’s too fried and exhausted to understand why, or— frankly, to even try to understand, or bother to care, right now. This has been exhausting, and strange, and he just—
Really, he just wants to lay down with Ed, but it’s difficult, because he’s Ed. Or he’s— in Ed, so he can’t be held by Ed. But— he can, but it’s— different, or—
It’s just not the same. Not right now, anyways.
“You okay?” Ed asks him, when Stede’s stood there for too long a moment, hanging in that silence.
“What?” Stede replies. Ed’s question actually processes, then, and he hurries to say, “Yes, fine— I mean, I’m fine. I mean— It’s fine. You know. Well, it’s not fine, but—” Ed huffs a laugh, and Stede demands, “What? What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Ed tells him. Looking at him and seeing himself is extremely disorienting. Looking at him while his mouth moves, and his voice comes out, but Ed’s words are spoken from Ed’s mind and soul within— Stede feels like he’s in the wildest of dreams. “It’s just— You know. It’s kind of funny hearing you do one of your freak-outs, but in my voice.”
“I am not freaking out,” Stede insists. “And, if I were, would you not think that to be justified? We’re— We are days away from reaching someone who might be able to help us, and even that isn’t any guarantee! What if we’re trapped like this? What if you get stuck like— like that, stuck as me?”
Ed evaluates him through Stede’s hazel eyes. He can still look through him just as piercingly without his own eyes, Stede’s surprised— and pleased— to discover.
“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world,” Ed answers. He sounds less amused, now, even if he does still tease him. He’s got to be teasing him, anyway.
“Don’t toy with me, Edward,” Stede says. “Now isn’t the time.”
He pushes away from that middle space in the center of the room, heading for their wardrobe, seeking more comfortable clothes than the ones he’s got on. When they were swapped, Ed had been heavily dressed in leathers and weaponry, eyes darkened with coal, hair wild, looking every bit the dread pirate Blackbeard as they boarded the strangers’ ship with intentions to raid.
It’s been quite a while since then, and Stede’s just grown even more uncomfortable. The leather sticks to him all over, and his joints ache, and he’s just— he’s done. He wants to wear his own clothes; maybe, then, with his eyes closed, he might feel a little bit like himself, for a second.
“I’m not fucking with you, man,” Ed argues, following right behind him. Stede’s already fumbling with the laces on his leather vest; he’s used to taking this off, but from the opposite direction. Everything feels upside-down. “I kinda like being in your body.”
“Do you, now?” Stede asks him, only halfway-paying attention. Most of his focus is centered on wrestling Ed’s vest off himself before crouching to do the same with the brace and boots. His knee protests the movement, and Stede’s brow furrows through the pain, tugging at the buckles and laces anyways.
“Yeah,” Ed answers. “It’s hot.”
Stede’s fingers pause on Ed’s boots, hands tingling with a sudden rush of numbness.
He lifts his head, eyes meeting Ed’s. Or— Ed’s eyes meeting his, or— Whatever. However it works; Stede’s given up on understanding, anymore. He just wants to relax.
“Hot,” Stede echoes, heart pounding. It feels different, than when his heart races in his own chest; Ed’s heart beats in this solid way, fast, racing, coursing inside of him, his blood hot, his body flushing, his flesh tingling-sensitive all over. “Hot?”
“Yeah,” Ed says again.
The floor creaks beneath him, when he moves closer. Stede pulls the boots off, prying the brace from his leg— Ed’s leg— to go with them. They’re all tossed into a corner, by the time Ed’s joined him in the center of the wardrobe, radiating heat off of him like he were a burning fire. Stede wonders if he always feels that warm, to Ed.
“What?” Ed asks. His fingertips find his own leather belt, and Stede jerks at the sensation of his hands on him. Tugging at the buckle, freeing the belt from its confines with a slipping hiss, he asks, “Don’t you think it’s hot being in my body?”
Stede’s breath catches. Ed’s chest tightens in a different way, a more straining kind of pressure, and he loves it. He wishes he could train his own body to do the same thing.
“It’s—” Stede starts, before his throat thickens. He takes a wheezing breath; Ed huffs a laugh, tossing his belt aside. “Oh, God. I just— I didn’t want to intrude or make you feel that I was— was treating your body inappropriately—”
Ed huffs a laugh, pulling the fastens on his leather trousers apart.
“Stede, love,” Ed says, “I am begging you to treat my body inappropriately.”
Stede’s heart— Ed’s heart— their heart, right now— pounds, and his brain fuzzes over, and he still feels that incredibly pleasant prickling, like he’s gone extremely sensitive all over his body.
“I mean,” Ed keeps going, navigating his way upwards to meet Stede’s eye while he separates the final joins on his pants for him. “How many chances like this are we gonna get, you know? If you don’t like it, I’m obviously not gonna make you, but— If you were thinking it. You know. I was thinking it, too.”
A moment passes before Stede feels an involuntary smile spread on his face. After a beat, it becomes entirely too voluntary, happy and warmed and delighted and surprised.
“Do you always feel like this?” Ed asks him, face splotching red all over.
It’s sort of— difficult, for Stede to see, watching his own face like this, and so he looks downward to start working at taking off the soft lavender-shaded knit-crop blouse he had beneath his leather vest.
“Like what?” Stede asks.
His own hands come into view, Ed helping him pull the fabric up and off over his head. There’s a second where Ed’s long hair catches, tugging along his scalp; his body lights up all over, in response to that feeling, and Stede can’t help mentally cataloguing that information to hold onto for later.
“Like— so much,” Ed answers. “I feel like I’m feeling a hundred emotions all at once, like— fucking shit, no wonder you talk so much. There’s just so much to come out.”
Flushing with heat of his own, Stede tells him, hot-embarrassed, “I’m sorry—”
“Oh, fuck, no, man,” Ed stops him immediately. He reaches up, taking Stede’s chin in his hand to direct them upwards into looking at each other again. “I love listening to you talk. I just meant that I get what your insides are like, now. I get why you talk. Sorta.” His thumb taps Stede’s nose, which is his nose, and they both smile, this specific kind of knowing smile that could only come in an absurd moment like this. “Actually, it’s making me kinda surprised you don’t talk more. You can talk as much as you want, mate. I like listening to you.”
An overwhelming surge of affection crashes through Stede, at that. Ed feels everything so deeply; maybe Ed is discovering that Stede is sensitive, and overly-emotional, and chatty, but Stede is discovering that Ed is tender, and empathetic, and intense. He knew all that already, but— it’s different to feel those feelings, as Ed does, and to better understand.
“Sometimes,” Stede tells him, “there’s just plenty to say, I suppose, isn’t there?”
“Yeah,” Ed agrees. “A whole fuck of a lot.”
With his chest bare, now, Ed’s attention drops, examining his own body with something akin to flushed curiosity. His eyes skim downwards, for a beat, landing at the open spread of his trousers before darting back up.
“So,” Ed asks. “How’re you liking it in there?”
“Oh, I’m having a lovely stay, thank you,” Stede replies, and Ed thwumps him on the shoulder.
“I mean it,” Ed insists.
“It really is lovely, Ed,” Stede tells him, in Ed’s handsome voice. It sounds right, hearing Ed’s voice saying nice things about Ed; he indulges that impulse, continuing with, “You feel very good, to be honest, darling. Everything you feel is so strong, and you’re so— You feel so good, just— The world around you feels interesting, and I feel happy, and looking at you, I feel—”
His words led him somewhere his mind hadn’t even consciously arrived at, yet, but— Now that he’s thinking about it, he looks at Ed— looks at himself, in a way— and he feels joy. He’s overcome with crashing affection, with sincere love. It nearly bowls him over, knocking him out at the knees.
“You feel good,” Ed finishes for him.
“I do,” Stede agrees, a hint of confusion laid over his words.
Ed’s got a recognizable smile in his tone when he tells him, “You always make me feel good. That’s just how I feel when I look at you.”
Stede knows that smile, the one flavoring everything he says; it’s the same one he feels inside when he looks at Ed, unable to fight down the bubbling joy that always arises in response.
“Do you feel that inside you?” Stede asks him.
“What?”
Stede makes a motion near his chest with his fingers, wriggling them close to his heart. Ed’s grinning when Stede explains, “Like you’re just going to fall apart when you see me. Or— see you, in my body.”
Ed moves Stede’s eyes to look right at him, and Stede knows he understands.
“Yeah,” Ed tells him. “I feel it.”
Taking his face in his hand, knowing how good it feels to him when Ed does that for him, he tells him, “That’s how I always feel about you,” and relishes in the pink flush that splashes hot across his cheeks. He’s never seen it from the outside, like this; he’s finding that he enjoys reading Ed’s responses like this, enjoys watching his emotions play out this way.
Still, it’s so— strange, to look at his own body and desire Ed inside of it, even while he’s not sure how to desire himself. It’s Ed, whom he loves; but it’s him, and he has— complicated feelings about himself, to say the least, as well as further complicated feelings about his body, about his appearance.
“It’s a lot,” Ed comments, flushed so red.
“It is, isn’t it?” Stede tells him. “Now, do you understand why I love you so much, hm? It’s impossible not to.” He taps his fingers over his own heart, watching Ed look down to study the movement as it comes. “It’s all right in here, no matter who I am or who’s got control of my body. You’re written inside of me, Ed. On my bones.” His playfulness is turning desperate, wanting Ed to understand. “Do you know what I’m saying? Can you feel it? What I mean?”
Ed catches Stede’s hand. It’s so fascinating, to watch it all from this angle. When they’re alone together, like this, Stede’s not so anxious, not so afraid; it almost feels like a— a gift, to experience each other this way. Hopefully, a temporary gift, but— a gift all the same, perhaps.
“I think I do, love,” Ed tells him. He smiles at the words in his own voice before he repeats, “Love,” and then laughs. Playful, he uses Stede’s voice to say, “I love you. I love Edward Teach. I love Ed more than anything else in the world—”
“You know,” Stede points out to him, “I say that quite often, anyways. And I’d be happy to say it whenever you please, if you only ask.”
“I know,” Ed says. “Just fun to say. Hmm, what else could I— Oh, fuck, right—”
He stops, then, and his face flushes pink again.
“Fuck,” he repeats. Stede watches with curiosity as his own face goes red, under Ed’s control. He knows himself well enough to know what that reddening flush means; he knows Ed well enough to know it’s being intentionally caused. “Fuck. Cunt. Cock. Fuck, Ed—”
“Jesus, Ed,” Stede hisses, feeling Ed’s cock tighten, filling with blood, hardening and thickening, and, fuck, wasn’t that something? He’s never felt anything like that.
His hands twitch involuntarily towards his cock— Ed’s cock— and Ed catches the movement. A smile comes onto his face that Stede doesn’t think he’s ever seen himself wear before, an expression he’s never seen himself make, but he knows well enough what it means.
“How does that feel?” Ed asks him. “It’s cool, isn’t it?”
“It’s interesting,” Stede replies, slightly strained. “How’re you— How do you like mine, then?”
“Your cunt?” Ed asks, so blunt and direct in Stede’s voice. “Fucking loving it, man. Everything you say is like— zipping through me. I’m fucking wet.” He makes to unfasten Stede’s breeches, offering, “Wanna see?”
Stede’s breath catches in Ed’s chest. He asks, “I— But— Are you sure you don’t mind me— like this, in your body? I don’t want to— to violate you, I—”
“Stede, love,” Ed cuts him off. “Do you feel like I’m violating you by doing this? ‘Cause we can stop—”
“No,” Stede hurries to interrupt him right back. “Good lord— No, heavens, not at all, I just—” He exhales shakily, in Ed’s rasping-deep voice. “I didn’t want to do anything you don’t want.”
“Well.” Ed takes a step closer, hooking his fingers into the open waist of his leather trousers, tugging him in closer. He tilts his head up to meet Stede’s eye, and Stede looks into his own face, feeling this pulsing course of desire rattle through him. He’s never liked himself like this; it’s so strangely healing. “I want you to tear me the fuck apart no matter who’s body I’m in. S’long as that’s what you want.”
Stede nods with a jerk, his breath coming in trembling vibrations when Ed kneels to tug his leather breeches down and off.
“Fuck, yeah, that’s what I want,” Ed says. “Step out, then.”
He does as told, letting Ed pull the last of his clothes off of him. Standing there, bare in Ed’s body, Stede gives into temptation. With Ed’s permission so explicitly given, he looks down at himself in the sunlight filtering into the auxiliary wardrobe, actually exploring Ed’s body as his, for the first time, without the fear of overstepping.
There are so many places he’s spent time learning that Ed likes best. It’s those spaces that he examines now, running his fingertips over his throat, down his chest, over the dips of his hips. The touches feel so fucking good, his skin so sensitive it feels like he’s been lightning-electrified, sparkling with jolts of heat all over.
Ed’s body is so beautiful, it’s hard to be inside of it, hard to touch it, hard to see it from this point of view. It’s like a dream, to see Ed’s beautiful hands moving where he moves them, pulling over the tattoos etched into his skin, the coarse dark hair scattered over his flesh, the heat that rises from his insides. He feels everything he would feel and everything Ed would feel at once, the sensations doubled, tripled, heightened until he can hardly handle them.
From what he can tell, Ed’s experiencing the same. He’s busy shucking off Stede’s clothes, setting them aside with impossibly neat care, but Stede catches his hands lingering in the places he knows he likes best. His thumbs trace over his nipples; he lets his fingertips drag between his thighs.
It’s strange, and it’s difficult, and it’s complicated, but it’s also erotic, and Stede can’t give a shit about anything else except that, right now, in all honesty. He doesn’t want to hang onto anything else; he wants to hang onto the good feelings, to share them with Ed.
So, that’s exactly what he does.
“Your body is beautiful,” Stede tells him. “Inside and out.” He reaches down to take Ed’s cock in his hand. He’s as curious to see what it feels like as he is desperate to touch himself in any sort of familiar way, even if their parts aren’t all the same. “I already knew that, but it’s even better than I could’ve possibly imagined. You’re beyond words, Ed—”
“You’re poetic no matter whose brain you’re in, aren’t you?” Ed asks him, and Stede huffs a laugh, feeling himself flush with heat. He tilts his head in a nod towards his cock. “How’s it feel?”
Stede turns his attention back down again. It’s strange in the greatest way, really. He doesn’t want to trade his cunt for a cock— he doesn’t think he would even if he could— but he’s also a naturally curious person, and this is a very interesting situation, and he can’t help being as fascinated as he is aroused by all of this.
Not only that, but Ed’s cock is fucking pretty. Stede already knew that— he’s seen it far closer than this, been closer to it than even Ed can get— but it’s something else to have it attached to his body, to have Ed’s cock be a part of him. It’s impossibly peculiar at the same time that it’s one of the greatest experiences of Stede’s life, he thinks; he’s not sure how to explain it, if he ever could, or if he ever even should. The only person who could ever possibly understand is right here in front of him, experiencing it all with him; those sensations speak volumes, more than any words could ever say.
“It feels good,” Stede tells him. “Really good.”
He takes his hand up, licks his palm in a broad stroke. Again, he licks over his palm, and then glides up his fingers, slicking Ed’s hand before he brings it back down to his cock.
This is something he’s always been curious about, and his musings are not disappointed when he tries his first experimental stroke upwards on his— Ed’s— cock. His knees go weak; his insides fuzz out; all the blood and focus and arousal in his body shoots downward, centered at his core, routing through his cock until it’s all he can think about.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out. His heart’s racing; he doesn’t know how long he can last, like this. Everything’s right on the outside, just— there, for him to get his hands on. He’s not sure how people with cocks get through life, like this.
In front of him, Ed’s gone flushed-faced and red all over, standing there bare in Stede’s freckled flesh. At some point, in watching Stede, he slipped his fingers between his legs, carefully exploring Stede’s cunt for himself. When his fingertips brush over his clit, Stede watches as Ed’s knees buckle a bit, his face dropping down to look in surprise, heat splotching heavily across his face.
“Oh, fucking— fuck,” Ed bursts out. “Fucking shit, Stede, how do you get anything done with this fucking thing in here?”
“I was just thinking the same thing about your lovely cock, to be honest with you, darling,” Stede tells him breathlessly. He uses his other hand to cup his balls, breath punching out at the feeling. “My God— You should’ve told me how good this felt, I’d have paid far more attention to your beautifu—”
He’s cut off, a beat later, by Ed surging forward and stealing him into a kiss. His hands wind up into his hair, tugging sharply, and Stede moans, the sensation rocketing from his scalp through to his cock.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Ed mumbles against his lips.
Stede’s heart is pounding so fast it feels like he’ll lose consciousness. In his own body, if his heart raced this quickly, he’s sure he would lose consciousness; Ed can take more than he can, or else he’s just so overstimulated with the shockingly-new sensations right now that he couldn’t do anything but crumble under these feelings.
“Yes,” Stede breathes into him. “God— Yes, you feel so good—”
“That’s because you feel good,” Ed tells him. “This is how good you make me feel all the time, yeah?” He kisses along to his throat, bites in where Stede knows Ed likes him to bite in. His cock pulses in his hand, in response, precum pearling thick at the tip and spreading down, when Stede guides his foreskin back and pumps his cock slick between that and his saliva. “You know how often my cock’s hard like that around you? Like, all the fucking time.”
Wanting to give as good as he’s getting, Stede releases his balls to reach instead between Ed’s thighs— between his thighs, where his cunt is, because— if he knows anything, he knows how to make his own body feel good, after so long alone in that way.
He wastes no time in finding his entrance. Ed’s already soaked, loose and throbbing and desperate for him. Stede’s fingers slip easily through him, gathering slickness to bring back to his clit.
“Holy fuck,” Ed punches out. His forehead drops to Stede’s shoulder, breath trembling in these shaking gasps as he strains through, “Holy fuck, fuck, fuck, this feels so— fucking good, fuck, Stede, my fucking— fuck, fuck—”
He’s shivering, his limbs rattling as he clings to Stede through the force of these feelings that he’s never felt in this way before. Stede knows his own body, and he’s already getting close, based on the way he’s moving and the flush on his face and the words bursting out of him.
After a moment of hesitation, Stede removes his hand, letting his fingertips glide slick along the inside of his freckled thigh. He’s rewarded— or, in a way, punished— by Ed’s desperate, pleading whine in return, buried in his throat.
“What the fuck,” Ed says. He shifts himself, shuffling to fit his legs around Stede, grinding down into his bare thigh. “Fucking— get back here—”
“It feels good,” Stede asks, “doesn’t it?” He kisses Ed’s temple, knowing how much he likes it when Ed kisses him there, loving how he holds him close when they’re together like this. It’s nearly impossible to keep standing like this, his knees quivering to nothing, all the blood in his body filling his cock, but he keeps himself upright, holding Ed close. Tracking his touch softly over the inside of his thigh, he asks, “Do you like how it feels?”
Ed nods in a frantic twist. “Fuck yes, I do, fucking— Keep going—”
“It feels better like this,” Stede informs him. Ed still makes another distraught noise, bucking up closer to Stede again, but he assures him, “It does, I promise.”
Huffing, Ed glares at him, for a beat, but seems to trust him enough to acquiesce. He refocuses his attention, anyways, asking Stede, “How’re you, then? ‘Cause I know you can cum a bunch of times in a row, but I’ve only— Or, I mean, you’ve only got one shot with my cock before you’ll have to wait a while to use it again.”
“I don’t know how long I’m going to last, to be honest with you, my love,” Stede confesses to him. “I’ve never— This feels much better than I ever thought it would.”
Nosing up along his jawline, Ed murmurs, “Good,” and backs him up towards the wall until he’s knocking into it, Ed bracing him there. “Then we can go again later, too.” He mouths at his chin before pulling him into a proper kiss. Their tongues glide together, for a beat, before they part, and Ed asks, “Now, please, can I cum?”
“I don’t know,” Stede says, denying him just that smallest bit further. “Don’t you want to see how good it feels to let it last even longer?”
“Stede,” Ed tells him, as serious as he can be, right now, “I’ve been hard— No, sorry, I’m not hard, force of habit, I’m fucking wet. And I have been fucking wet since I ended up in your body with your cunt and if you don’t let me cum, Stede, I swear to fuck, I’m gonna tattoo something on you that you’re—”
This desperation and longing and begging is exactly what Stede was hoping for. If he’s at this point, he truly is close; he may not have much of a choice, when it comes to dragging this out much longer.
He ducks in, stealing another kiss from Ed. He gets knocked back into the wall again in return, Ed clambering over his body to practically sit himself on his thigh, clinging to him so he can grind down on his thigh, searching for any kind of friction he can get on body parts he’s never had to learn how to use before.
Knowing how much he likes this feeling, Stede corrects their positioning, taking them together so Ed can grind right into his cock.
“When I can get your cock hard again,” Stede tells him, taking Ed’s hips in his hands so he can bring him forward, helping him to fucking himself against him just how he knows it’ll feel best, “I’m going to fuck you so deep, you’ll know exactly how much I like having you inside me.” He kisses Ed on the cheek, tells him, “It’s going to be wonderful, and I won’t let you cum for hours, just like you do to me—”
“Fuck, Stede,” Ed says, straining in Stede’s voice, wrung right out of him. “Please—”
“—And you’ll know just how good you make me feel,” Stede continues. The feeling of Ed grinding himself into his cock is absurdly good, one of the greatest things he’s ever felt; he pushes right back into them, the two of them rutting into and against each other like wild beasts, unable to do more than claw at each other in their desperation to get off together.
“Fuck,” Ed gasps out again. Tears burn in his eyes, tracking hot down his face; Stede tilts in to kiss them away, knowing how overstimulated he must be, how good he must feel. “Anything you want, I— Anything— Oh, my fucking—”
His next words disappear into nothing but noises, punched up out of him when he clings to Stede, burying his face in his throat and throwing his arms around his neck and hanging on tightly to him as his orgasm shakes through his body. He keeps gasping, these sharp suck-ins of breath that have Stede shivering just to hear them. His voice sounds so wrecked, his every breath wavering; he slumps into Stede with his chest heaving, fingers tracing between his thighs to experimentally milk himself through his orgasm.
A groan punches out of him the second he lays a hand on himself. He wrings himself out, grinding up into Stede still with these hot little pushes, and that friction-pressure against his cock is enough to burst him.
Stede had always wondered what this felt like, and he still doesn’t entirely know; it’s not dissimilar to his own orgasms, but this feels more like a— like a gun going off, like everything in him gathers up and then punches out, his cock so hard it’s pulsing before he’s cumming, so hard and so much he thinks he could die from this.
It’s like his orgasms, but it’s not, and he wants to try it a dozen more times before they have to swap back, if he has his way. Based on the way Ed’s hanging onto him, mouthing messily at Stede’s throat in a lazy series of wet kisses, however, he thinks he might just want the same thing.
“That was fascinating,” Stede says, chest still heaving, words half-muffled by Ed’s skin— by his skin, by Ed in his skin.
Ed laughs, and Stede’s never liked his own laugh so much before. It sounds beautiful, and joyous, and he loves Ed sharing it with him like this, feeling his happiness through Stede’s body, expressing it through Stede’s voice. He’s shaken to his core by how connected he feels to him, right now.
“Fascinating,” Ed echoes. “Fucking fascinating is right, you maniac.” He gathers Stede’s face between his hands, tugs him into a kiss. When they part, and Ed’s eyes flicker open to meet his, he comments, “Fuck, that’s still weird.”
“But,” Stede asks, “Sort of hot?”
Smiling, face splotched with that hectic red, still, Ed agrees, “Super fucking hot.” He takes Stede’s hand, kissing the back of it before he pulls at him. “C’mon. You can’t use my dick again yet, but I know I can use your cunt again. Show me how.”
Stede lets himself get pulled from their wardrobe back out into their proper quarters, to their bedroom, to their bed. He pushes Ed down on his back, settles himself between his thighs. It’s there he shows Ed what he truly knows, shows him how to feel exactly right. The feelings are better than he could ever imagine; he imagines he might be able to die from this curse and not be entirely dissatisfied with his life, on the whole. As it is, this curse really does feel like less of a curse and more of a gift with every passing moment— regardless of whether or not that was the spell’s intention.
In the back of his mind, Stede knows they have to return to their own bodies— and, preferably, sooner rather than later— but—
But.
It’s not the end of the world, if they get to indulge in this a bit longer. In fact, Stede finds that his anxiety about hurrying to these witches-for-hire has diminished dramatically; he doesn’t mind if they take a bit of time getting there. The two of them still have a fair bit to explore, of course, and Stede would like as much time and as many opportunities as possible to try it all out. After all, when could they get a chance like this again?
“Fuck, Stede,” Ed gasps out, with Stede’s tongue buried inside him and his face nestled between his thighs, and Stede wonders, too, if he might not be able to ask one of those witches-for-hire how they might be able to do this of their own accord, next time. Perhaps magic might be a worthwhile piracy skill to study up on, as well, if it leads to enchantments like these.