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Stede set the vase of Ed’s flowers on the mantelpiece in their bedroom, turning it so that the boutonnieres faced out, towards their bed. Ed was smooring the kitchen fire, checking the doors and windows. Stede revelled in the easy domesticity that had let them divvy up the evening chores without much discussion.
Ed locked up and kept the house safe; Stede turned down the bed and made sure they had water and snacks within reach. Ed fed the bread starter; Stede mashed the toothpaste the way Roach had shown him. Ed brought in their favourite lantern and Stede coaxed the fire. Summer was on its way, but they both preferred to be as warm as possible.
Stede had already changed into his nightgown. He went out, to choose a book from their expanding library, and when he came back, Ed had already shed his clothes and clambered into bed. Stede shucked his slippers and crawled in beside him, the boutonnieres catching his eye once more.
He bounded out of bed. “Ed!” He shoved his feet into the slippers. “I forgot!”
He raced into the dressing room and snatched his waistcoat off its peg. He scurried back and shed his slippers again, arranged himself in the bed by Ed’s side, both of them propped up against their stacks of pillows.
Ed watched him with a bemused expression. “Did you miss adding a flower to the vase?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that.” He considered getting on one knee again, but he would be too low down on the floor, and it would be awkward to do so on the bed, and either way, he was undressed now, and he couldn’t have his nightgown fluttering ridiculously about him.
He stuck his hand into the pocket of the waistcoat and drew out the ring he’d purchased in town last week, while Ed had been haggling at the fishmonger’s. He’d bought three rings, so as not to arouse any suspicion on the part of the antique dealer. He’d shown Ed two, and they’d been added to the stash in the wee dish of jewellery they shared.
At first he’d hidden the third, a silver band set with three amethysts, among the summer linens, but then he’d worried that inspiration might strike and he wouldn’t be prepared, and he’d taken to slipping it into a pocket of each day’s outfit. Imagine if he hadn’t drawn out the ring this evening! The joint discoveries they would have missed!
He held open his palm, and raised it, showing off the ring. “I didn’t quite finish my proposal...”
“Yes you did,” Ed whispered, gaze not leaving the ring. His eyes were damp at the corners.
“Did I?”
“You said I was the flower you’d been searching for.” He looked up at Stede through his lashes.
“And you are!” He curled his fingers about the ring and brought both hands to Ed’s cheeks, laying a tender kiss on his mouth. “I had a whole speech rehearsed, and that was before I knew that you were the flower I’ve dreamed of all my life.”
Ed kissed him back. “Not gonna deny it, I kind of want to hear this speech.”
“Well, I’ve forgotten it all.” Stede ducked his head in embarrassment, hands falling to his lap. “All I see now is you, and the way you brought up those flowers...” He tried to recall a few of the phrases he’d come up with while gardening, repeating them over and over. “I was trying to tell you how beautiful you are, how much your goodness and kindness and fun makes you beautiful to me, and now... If you’re a flower, I want to tend you for the rest of our lives.”
“Stede... You can’t say... I mean, I guess you can say that stuff, because it’s how I feel about you.”
“It is?”
“Of course it is. And I’ll need to get you a ring, too.”
“So we’re...fiancés. Is it all right to say that? If I start saying it around town?”
“Actually, I fucking love it.” Ed nudged his hand against Stede’s. “How long are we going to be engaged for?”
“Well, when do you want to have a wedding, summer? An autumn vibe would be lovely. Though winter lends itself to—”
“I don’t want to wait that long.”
“Oh good, me neither.” He rested his palm beneath Ed’s and, when Ed nodded at him to go on, he slipped the ring onto Ed’s finger, admiring its sparkle in the firelight and its colouring against Ed’s skin and ink. “I mean, it mostly depends on when the crew can stop by.”
“Right, yeah. The crew.” Ed turned aside from admiring his ring, and stared at the fire. “Reckon if we give them lead time, there’ll be no end to the planning.”
“So you want to...elope?” He tried not to let his disappointment show in his voice.
“No, babe.” Ed turned back into him, tipping his head and planting a kiss on the underside of Stede’s jaw. “I want to stand with you in front of everyone, under a bunch of flowery decorations.”
“Oh, goody. So do I.”
“I reckon, we get the supplies in, the flowers and all that, then we invite the crew. Give them a stash from the treasure and let them loose on the town. They can do all the decorating in a day. And we can get married at sunset.”
“Oh, Ed, that’s beautiful. Gives me less time to fret, too.”
“You can focus on our outfits. And I’ll...” He held his ring hand before him, fiddled with the band with forefinger and thumb, as if admiring the firelight on each amethyst facet. “I can write to my mum,” he finished in a small voice.
Stede slipped his hand into Ed’s, drew it to his mouth, and kissed the spider. “That’s a lovely idea. Oh dear—should I write to her, too? Pretend I haven’t proposed yet, and ask for your hand? Will she—”
Ed, laughing, tackled him with kisses, and they dropped into the pillows. Breathless already, he kissed Ed back with abandon, threading his fingers into Ed’s waves. He loved the nights when, books forgotten, they tangled together under the covers.
They were still taking it slow.
He didn’t hold back from asking, with a glance or a caress at Ed’s nape, when he wanted Ed. Needed him. Ed never refused him, and Ed came to him often, too, banding an arm about his waist or catching his chin, guiding him into a heated kiss.
But he let Ed set the pace, whenever they joined. However Ed wanted him, that’s how Stede wanted it.
Tonight, Ed seemed to be hesitating about something. He drew aside from their kisses all too soon. Sat up and turned down the flame on the lantern, leaving only the fire to to light their way. In the flickering dim, Ed’s expression appeared troubled.
“What is it?” Stede whispered, sitting up in turn. He reached for Ed, and when Ed melted into his arms, he draped himself over Ed from behind. He should have chucked his nightgown. Ed’s back was broad, sturdy, warm. He didn’t want any layers between them.
“We’ve been sort of...taking it slow,” Ed said.
“We have.”
“I— It’s my fault.”
“It’s not a fault at all, Ed.”
“It’s not?”
“Definitely not.” He didn’t know, after all, what anything might be like, having only been with Mary in one position, often in the dark. The most innocuous touch from Ed was like a sudden burst of spring in a winter garden; why should he ask for more than what Ed needed?
He tried to explain a bit of his reasoning to Ed. “I love everything about you, darling. Every way that we... It all makes me feel good. And we can make our decisions together, can’t we? If we want to try something new. Why did you take the blame?”
Ed turned in his hold and faced him, swiping his hair off his cheeks. “Because I still doubted. Before I knew about your dreams, before I knew that you were the prince. I was still holding back. Sorry.”
A spark caught on a log, and a flame blazed up, casting Ed’s face into sudden brightness. His eyes looked— Stede recalled the way Pete had described Blackbeard, over a year ago now, and said, “They’re just regular eyes.”
How wrong he’d been.
Ed’s eyes were numinous, ever-changing with their earthy depths and tints of gold and amber. Smaller, when he was concentrating, focused on a task. Larger, when he gazed at Stede from across a room or the other side of the main road in town, as if seeing him again after months apart. Largest of all when he looked up at Stede from a nest of pillows, hands outstretched, reaching for him for desire, or comfort, or both.
“What are you apologising for?” Stede asked softly. “I should be the one apologising. If I’d told you sooner about my dreams— What if we just pretended the whole doubt and hiding thing never happened?”
“We could....”
He responded to the eagerness in those eyes. “What would you like to do, now that we... What would you like to do with me, fiancé?”
Ed’s jaw went slack, and now his eyes were hooded. His tongue darted out, licked his bottom lip. “Can I...” He pawed at the front of the nightgown. “D’you want to take this off?”
“Hell yes.” He squirmed upward and lifted the gown up and over his head, tossed it over the footboard. He slid up against Ed, hip to hip, pleased to feel the warmth of his body directly. “Much better. Now what?”
“There is something...” Ed wrapped an arm about his shoulders, nuzzling into the curve of his neck. “I mean, there’s a lot we can do, a lot I haven’t done in years.”
He pouted, on the inside, at the thought of Ed with others, and tried not to pout on the outside. He also knew that, caught in the swirl of Blackbeard, it had been years since Ed had been with anyone. The thought of Ed, alone in his cabin, starving for touch, hurt him. He would have set aside jealousy to know that Ed had at least had some comfort or pleasure in the time before they’d met.
“I want whatever you want,” he whispered, setting his hand on Ed’s knee. The covers had slid away from them and they were both bare in the fire’s glow. “I meant it.”
Ed caught his hand, brushed his thumb over his knuckles. “Have you thought about it, though? What you’d like?”
Ed knew he’d never been with anyone besides Mary, knew how inexperienced Stede was when it came to actual physical contact—but also knew the sorts of tracts and books Stede read. “I mean... I’ve imagined most things. In a nebulous sort of way. I like...I like your hands on me.” He inched their linked fingers upwards, nudging the base of Ed’s cock, already at half-mast. “I think I’d like...more.”
“Yeah, I was thinking of exactly that... I could...” Ed let go of his hand, and shifted, bending double at the waist, over Stede’s lap.
“Oh, are you sure—”
Ed looked up, hair falling over his face. “You don’t want—”
“I do!” He wanted it as badly emotionally as his cock did, physically, straining towards where Ed’s mouth hovered. “But I want you to be comfortable.”
“I’m fine. I promise I’ll move if anything aches.”
“All right, darling.” That sounded too much like he was about to add, “proceed”, so instead he said, “I love you.”
“I love you, babe.” Ed rose up and claimed his mouth in a searing kiss. Then he settled over Stede’s lap again, crouching beside him, and took Stede’s length in his hand.
When Stede had imagined this, he’d somehow always pictured Ed before him, between his knees. Side-on, he realised he could more easily stroke Ed’s shoulder, his back, gather his hair for him.
This part was more than familiar; Ed’s hand gliding up and down his cock was a sensation he hadn’t tired of yet, and didn’t expect to weary of anytime soon. Usually, they had some oil—
Oh.
Of course.
Who needed oil when Ed’s mouth—
Ed’s mouth was on—
Ed’s mouth was sucking—
Ed’s mouth, the glorious wet heat of it was—
“Ed, oh, Ed,” he moaned.
He lost control of his own limbs, crumpling over Ed, fingers knotted in Ed’s hair, floating along as Ed bobbed his head up and down, now faster, now slow, and his tongue—
Stede’s other hand strayed down Ed’s back, as he sought to balance himself and not tip over completely onto Ed—and his fingers curved over Ed’s arse.
Ed groaned, and the vibration of it drew a series of breathless gasps from Stede, and his forefinger slipped between Ed’s cheeks, and he was close, so close—
He wrenched his eyes open.
Ed was a swirl of soft curls and wide-stretched lips, of eyes squinched shut and hollowed cheeks. He was a vision, a sweet thing who was giving himself over to Stede’s pleasure, who was engaged to Stede, and that tongue—
“Ed!” he cried, and jerked in Ed’s hold, and shot down his throat.
Ecstasy washed over him, wave after wave. Ed eased him down from the heights with his mouth and hand, then rose up and gathered him in against his chest.
As his breaths settled and his sight cleared, he noticed that Ed was yanking at his own hair, shoving it off his cheeks.
“Don’t, darling,” Stede said softly. He reached up with both hands, and Ed let him smooth back the strands, slip his fingers through and separate them a little. He scooted behind Ed and wove a quick braid.
“Should’ve done this before,” Ed said, still swiping at his chin, at his stubbled cheeks, even as Stede found a hair tie on the night table and bound off the braid.
“I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable, darling, but the way you looked was... Well, I believe the technical term is hot. Not sure if I’ll be able to—”
“Hey, stop right there.” Ed budged up, shoving pillows out of the way, so he was level with Stede. “It’s not a competition, yeah?”
“Oh, I know.” He wrapped his arm about Ed’s shoulders and brought his other hand to Ed’s lap, stroking his length.
He knew the weight of Ed in his palm, knew the heat of Ed spilling over his fingers, knew the taste of him when he brought a finger to his mouth.
But he fretted over his ability to do more. “I want to be good for you,” he added. “Make you feel how I did.” He curved his palm over the head of Ed’s cock, then let go to slip downwards, fondle his balls.
Before he could lose his nerve, he bent and took Ed into his mouth—
And promptly slid right off, gasping.
“Whoa, babe.” Ed smoothed a hand down his back. “If you’ve neve—”
“I’ve practiced!” he choked out. Cleared his throat. “I, er, tried now and again. On my fingers.”
“You— When— Can I see?”
He was still bent double, and it was easy to hide his blush somewhere in the vicinity of Ed’s belly. “Since we moved into the inn. I thought I could be ready...”
“Love that. I love that you did that.”
“Yeah?” He unfolded himself, facing Ed, bringing two fingers to his mouth. Then he thought better of it and reached for Ed’s hand, ring glinting in the weakening firelight. He shut his eyes and opened his mouth, and Ed set two fingers on his tongue. He closed his lips about them, and sucked, sliding his tongue over the pads.
“Speaking of hot,” Ed said, breathing hard.
“Mm?”
“You, babe.”
He drew aside, and Ed brought his mouth where his fingers had been. The kiss was sloppy, wet, and that reminded him—
He ducked back down, and this time he knew not to take Ed too deep. He thought of the way Ed’s mouth had moved on him, of what he liked when they took each other in hand, and began to copy some of those manoeuvres.
Ed did taste different this way, and when his hand landed on Stede’s head, he hummed, and suddenly there was more to taste. Salty, sort of; bitter, sort of. He picked up a rhythm, guided by the gentle press of Ed’s fingers at his crown, and focused on trying to identify the true flavour, the indescribable savour of Ed. Some sort of dessert, he decided.
Then he blacked out, and his body took over, knowing when to swipe his tongue, when to pick up speed. Heat, he recalled, wet, he recalled, and he gave all that to Ed, who was moaning quietly above him. He hollowed his cheeks, and heard Ed’s agonised cry, and Ed flooded his mouth.
He gasped and swallowed, rose up to keep only the tip of Ed’s cock in his mouth and swallowed again. Licked once, twice, then eased off before it could become too much for Ed.
“Definitely dessert,” he murmured.
“Uh?” Ed had fallen back against the pillows. He stared at the shifting lights on the ceiling from the last of the embers. A smiled played about his face.
Stede kissed the corner of his mouth. “You. Sweet.” He hadn’t realised his throat would get sore. “Logs,” he added, and moved off the bed and went to build up the fire for the last time that night. He set the screen before the fireplace, stroked a petal of the brightest bloom in the vase, and turned to find Ed, head propped on his hand, watching him.
It occurred to him then that Ed must have looked at him when Stede came... Well, perhaps it was less ridiculous than proposing in a nightgown. Ed did still seem to be coated in bliss, after all. He snuggled into the pillows as Stede came up and shook out the blankets over them, and they lay face to face on a shared pillow, trading soft kisses.
“My flower,” Stede whispered, suddenly overcome.
“I’m really, really glad you— That this night happened the way it did. No more holding back.”
He closed his eyes as they kissed again, then opened them to ask, “How do you feel, Ed?”
“Lighter,” Ed replied instantly. “I knew there was something, always. But because there were long stretches when the flowers didn’t come, I figured it was just...the way I was. But now...” His gaze strayed towards the mantelpiece. “I feel spent. In the best way. Like the afterglow is going to last and last.”
Stede vowed that it would, and that he would try his best to make sure the happiness didn’t fade, for either of them.
They decided the next day to write to Ed’s mum together, sending her pages copied out from their journal, Our Wondrous Journey: A Life at the Inn. Stede did ask for Ed’s hand, and they pressed three of Ed’s blooms into the journal pages, and sent those along, too. And that afternoon, in town, Ed drew him deep into the recesses of the antique shop and pulled out the ring that he’d hidden behind a stack of paintings.
They also wrote to the crew, and Buttons delivered that one. And somehow, maybe Auntie had arranged it, maybe Mary and Alma, but when the crew pulled up, a week early for the wedding, Ed’s mum was there, too.
She gave Ed back his flowers, and admired the others in the vase, and hugged both of them tightly. She bustled about the kitchen with Roach, listened to Pete’s stories and Frenchie’s theories, sat on the porch with Mary and Doug. Played on the lawn with Alma and Louis and Archie and Jim, and sat and gossiped with John and Fang. She stayed up late the first night with Olu and Zheng, but was still up early the next day to corner Stede in his garden and confess that she had always, always worried about Eddie, but that she wouldn’t have to worry about him at all anymore. And she gave Stede an extra, motherly, hug, then gave him a kerchief to wipe his tears with.
Only an hour later, when the rest of the crew were up and about, she was digging Lucius in the ribs with her elbow as they rolled their eyes together at the way Stede and Ed continually greeted each other with kisses, even if they’d been apart for a bare few minutes.
And at their wedding ceremony, she was the one who asked, “Do you vow to tend each other’s blooms and protect each other from thorns?”
And Stede and Ed vowed that they would.
And they did.
And their love was big enough to make a home at their inn for anyone and everyone who needed a safe space.