Work Text:
How we met
A café, a café wasn´t what Ed had in mind as he wandered through the streets of New Zealand, trying to get his mind of this stupid fucking fight he had with Izzy just about an hour ago.
But here he was, standing, eyebrows furred into an upset looking line, looking up at the menu. In retro perspective he wasn´t even sure why they broke out into a fight, something about him slacking off at work or something. But working at a bar bartending every other night was getting exhausting after nearly two decades.
It was his dream when he was young-Blackbeards drinks and other delicacies & Fishing Gear. The fishing gear did not really work out…oh yeah that is what they were fighting about…
“You cannot be for fucking real Edward! You bought what?” he shrugged at Izzy yelling at him with more spit then was actually necessary, but Ed didn’t dare to say anything about the dang drops that flew directly towards his face, not when Izzy was turning this bright shade of red and yelling at him, that he was sure Fang could easily here him from the kitchen. “´s just some rods, wanted to try out something new Iz, calm down?” he tried to defend himself, but Izzy just stared at him in disbelief. “A few…rods did someone shit in your brain last night? That shit costs us 5000$ you absolute Twat!” the smaller man slammed down the bill on the massive table that separates them just enough so Ed doesn’t have to have the feeling Izzy will jump his throat at any given minute. “Edward, you are going to fix this shit, get a refund! This is not what Blackbeard is, it isn’t a fucking shop for fucking fishers, it is bar where people come to get black out fucking drunk and play Poker with the one and only Blackbeard, which is you if I may add!”
Yeah…Blackbeard, the infamous bar owner who happens to play Poker once every other week with some drunk machos who think they could win over him, which was never the case though, Edward made sure of it. No, he wouldn’t say he cheated on the games, but big money was always on the line, and he would rather get eaten by a load of sharks than losing the money Izzy and him owned. Izzy helped him a lot in rough times, helps behind the bar if his knee was acting up again. Fuck he owed Izzy for helping him build this fucking Bar from scratch.
“Are you listening to me Edward? You are getting our money back and get these fucking rods out of my sight.” Ed just stood up, rounded the table, and took the bill. “Fuck I will do.”, he will, Ed is going to get a refund but he would never let this little rat feel like he won this round! He after all was Blackbeard! The dark and brooding Blackbeard in all leather who won every god damn Poker game and made some hellish drinks that only a few can down more than one off. Just a decade ago he was proud of this image, fucking buzzing with energy when he sat down on the dark table at 10pm, the guys in front of him either shivering with fear or somehow being so full of themselves and believing they could somehow win one round against him. Sometimes he lets them win a round or two, even three if he felt generous but they always leave the bar with empty pockets.
Ed walked out the building, the paper in a tight grip, he didn’t listen to Izzy shouting after him, he just walked out, somewhere and this- “Sir, if you are not ready to order yet, I kindly ask you to step aside and take your time looking through the menu. I do not dare to appear rude towards a new customer but it just, that we are in our rush hour and orders need to be taken quickly.” a voice interrupted his train of thoughts…his thought train…who the fuck dares to interrupt him thinking. He looked down from the menu, hanging up there against some fancy ass wallpaper. It looked like someone took it straight out of the 17th century. But now looking at the man who he planned on yelling at for interrupting him since he just felt like yelling at someone, he knew who would get such expensive looking wallpaper.
The man himself looked like he could never belong in the 21st century, like someone cut a picture out of one of this old ass history books and put it in front of him. The man appeared to middle aged, probably in his forties, just like Ed himself, blonde locks, framing his face in a weirdly delicate way, it looks like the man put a lot of effort in it, unlike Ed who brushes his hair when he felt like he needs to, on other day he just puts it in a bun and uses 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner. Not only where their hairstyles completely different but looking at both of their man’s clothes if felt like a comedic joke- while he wore all leather and wouldn’t dare to wear a single colour the man in front of him wore the softest colour known to mankind or at least to Ed. A damn old looking vest in a light blue with fucking gold buttons and underneath one of these frilly dress shirts with big ass balloon sleeves...Ed never saw a man dressed like this and he had to say, he looked…fucking lovely.
“Sir, I do not ask you again, please step aside if you are not ready to order yet, the line behind you is getting longer by the minute and I´d hate to put such pressure on my staff.” the man standing behind the counter seemed to be more insisting now but Ed wonders how he can still address him with a smile that nearly blows him away now that he is properly looking at him. “Uh yeah sure mate.” he barely mumbles out in a rushed apology, suddenly to flustered to yell at the guy who has been nothing but kindly asking him to step aside. Edward looked down with a red tint covering his cheeks, to embarrassed to stand next to line now he sits down in a nook, trying not be suspicious. Now, finally sitting alone, he was able to grasp in what kind of establishment he just walked into, a café, so far it was clear, of course he knew this, he wasn’t stupid or anything. But fuck, he first feared someone would recognize him as Blackbeard but this shouldn’t be the case since, he just walked into what seems like the poshest looking café he has ever seen. Fucking books, a whole wall of books was at one side, seemingly to nearly spill over, then a one…no two God damn chandeliers-who in the ever-loving god puts two chandeliers in a café and thinks: Yes, this is the way to go. People will love this. Ed loved it, this interior design, from the books, to the old ass looking tables and chair and the damn chandeliers. This café has been put together by a fucking lunatic.
Ed stared at everything in awe, it all looked so mismatched but somehow fit together looking at the end picture. Still shocked, and admittedly slightly embarrassed of the previous encounter with one of the staff members, he took the menu card from the table, which looked to be fucking handwritten. Who the hell owned this place? The words were written in a delicate, slightly cursive way. Overall, the menu was pretty standard, not too much which was to Eds liking, he hated it when a restaurant or café tried to impress by adding loads of mediocre dished to their menu. But everything in here fitted on two sites. He skimmed over the coffee options, since he believed his legs brought him here for a reason, and he had to admit being a little tired after one of his nightly shifts. His eye stopped at an Espresso but promptly went, as he saw a Latte option with different flavours to choose: caramel, chocolate, or nut flavour. Now that sounded like something he could go for.
He knew, he could have also got this at every Starbucks in town, but it felt different somehow getting it from a place that looked like they grind the beans by hand…now he somehow just had to get back into this line- but it was long, the blonde man was not kidding talking about rush hour, fuck the queue was as long as it was at Eds bar at his fucking golden hour. Names were called out by a man with brown hair. He heard, probably the chef, in the kitchen preparing orders. It really seemed like they were busy and Ed just didn’t have the patience to go stand in the line, since even his knee started to act up…and he of course forgot his damn brace- now this was just God damn perfect. He was about to stand up as somehow sat down in front of him- fucking golden locks, who nothing but smiled at him in an apologetic smile. Ed could nothing but melt back into his seat. “I´m so sorry for forcing you to get out of line, it didn’t even occur to me to ask if everything is alright. Are you in need of any medical assistance?” he didn’t stop smiling at him and Ed had two blink twice to realize the man was talking to him…fucking lovely man asked him a question. “´s fine, ´m feeling fucking peachy, sorry I was a bother, I can go.” was all he could say, slapping himself internally. Great, now he will really think he is bonkers.
“By all means, please stay, have you decided what you would like for today? I can take your order from here, Jim is handling the register, they are truly great at it.” The man took out a notebook and a pen, now looking at him with a calm smile. Ed again, could have just said his order but found himself lost of words for the third time this morning. “Ugh..uhh the Latte with uhh…caramel I guess.” he finally got out after long seconds in utter silence. “Oh wonderful, I will bring it right up to you in a few minutes.” he was about to stand up and go back behind the counter as he turned around. “Oh Dear I nearly forgot, I am Stede by the way and I´m glad to be your server today.”
Ed didn’t say anything after that, realizing he still is clutching a piece of paper in his left hand, he looked at it, took his phone out and started a refund for the fishing gear which just a single thought on his mind:
Stede was a fucking lovely name.