Chapter Text
“There’s something I need to be honest with you about, but it’s rather difficult to admit,” Stede said softly. For all the frilly layers of his clothing and the solidity of his stocky frame leaned companionably against Ed’s side, Stede looked almost ethereal with the moonlight in his curls.
Ed took his hand. “Nothing to be frightened of, mate.”
“There’s someone on this ship who’s captured my interest.” Stede squeezed his hand, a nervous little clasp.
“Okay.” Ed squeezed back.
“Another…man.”
“Perfectly natural.”
“A very…strong, compelling, competent man. A natural leader. Who, I’m concerned, may take my interest poorly.” Stede’s eyelashes were a smudge against his cheek, eyes fixed demurely on the taffrail beneath their joined hands.
“He’s an idiot if he’s anything less than fucking overjoyed,” Ed said, and stroked Stede’s thumb with his own. Then, as casually as he could manage, he asked, “And who, exactly, is the lucky guy?”
“It's…well.”
“Yes?” Ed licked his lips.
“You have to promise not to laugh. I know he’s out of my league.”
“Never. And I’m sure he’s not.” Ed leaned in slightly, ready for what he was pretty sure would be his last first kiss.
“It’s…”
“Yes…?”
“Izzy.”
“What.”
“Izzy Hands. Your first mate?”
“What.”
“The man you sent after me on the Republic of Pirates? Izzy Hands. We had a…moment, I suppose you’d call it, at the bar. I think he might have been making eyes at me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Stede’s face shuttered and he tried to draw his hand away. Ed clutched it tighter and hurriedly backtracked. “Hey, no, I was just surprised. I thought you meant, uh, someone else. Really? For real? Tiny, angry Izzy? Constantly spitting? No imagination? Too much pomade? Looks like he’s in pain when he smiles? Sometimes grabs men by the beard when he’s giving them orders? That guy?”
Stede prickled. “Yes. Although I’d describe him as ‘expert swordsman Izzy, capable of cutting a man’s shirt to ribbons without a single scratch.’ Or maybe ‘famous Izzy, feared and respected by all Spanish Jackie’s patrons.’ Or ‘sexy Izzy, blessedly endowed with-’”
“I get it, I get it,” Ed cut in hurriedly. “I’m just…surprised. If I’m being honest, I guess I thought that you and I, maybe…?”
Stede’s eyes softened, warm with something that looked horribly like pity. “You’re a very dear friend. And perhaps if I hadn’t met him first, I might feel differently.”
“Yeah, no, I’m not interested. Just thought you might be.” Christ, what even was Ed’s life - being passed over for Izzy fucking Hands. “So. How’s it going, wooing your lady fair?”
Stede sighed, leaning back against Ed’s side. “Not very well. Sometimes it feels like I irritate him just by existing in his general vicinity. And he’s always working! I keep waiting for him to take a break so we can share a meal or something.”
Ed snorted. “Ah, mate. If you’re waiting for Izzy to stop working so you can woo him, you’ll be greyer than he is by the time you make your move.” An idea struck him. Maybe he wasn’t necessarily out of the running, after all. “I guess if you wanted, I could help you. Give you some pointers on what he likes. Help you make a good impression.”
“Ed. You’d do that for me? Truly?” Stede’s eyes shone with unshed tears of gratitude.
“Of course. What are friends for?” Ed wrapped an arm around Stede’s shoulder, and took the opportunity to subtly grope his bicep. Jeez, the guy was built for a soft-handed aristocrat. It must be from all that rearranging of his furniture to perfect the cabin’s ‘flow,’ or whatever. “Personally, I’d recommend you go with big, showy, public gestures. He’ll love those.”
“Really?” Stede wrinkled his nose. “That’s the opposite of what I expected, actually. He seems so restrained and sensible.”
“Oh, I’ve known him a long time, Stede.” Ed swept a hand in front of them as if conjuring the story out of thin air. Which, to be fair, was exactly what he was doing. “He grew up poor. Worked his way up to midshipman in the Andrew, but was trafficked into piracy before he was promoted. We served together for a few years under Captain Hornigold, one of the foulest bastards ever to shame the seas with his presence. He treated half the crew like his personal harem of peg boys. All his life, Iz’s been stepped on. Overlooked. Taken for granted. He hides it well, but if there’s one thing he craves, it’s someone seeing his worth and not being afraid to metaphorically shout it from the crow’s nest. Or literally, actually, now that I think about it. He’d be into that. Definitely wouldn’t embarrass him.”
“Huh. I suppose that makes sense.” Stede gave Ed a sharp look. “Although, I admit I’m surprised you didn’t treat him with more respect when you began your own captaincy.”
“He was already in the habit of shrugging off praise and recognition. Besides, he’s a proud guy.” Ed shrugged. “Didn’t seem like my place to break down the walls he was so keen on putting up.”
“Thank you, Ed. This has certainly been enlightening.” Stede gave him a gentle smile, and Ed’s heart fluttered. “You’re a good friend. So, if I decided to surprise him with an alfresco feast we could share the next time he’s on night watch…?”
“Oh, definitely. Good instinct. He loves mixing work and pleasure.” Ed grinned. “I’d recommend tapas. He says all those fussy little plates are really fun, definitely doesn’t think they’re an excessive, pageant-y waste of space. Also - you should lean into the Spanish theme. Really try to create some ambiance - red suit, frilly ascot, the whole nine yards. Also, have you ever heard of a mariachi band?”