Chapter Text
May 5, 2006
Ed Teach didn’t care. Was it a great moment? No. Would it define him? Also, no. So fuck it. Sure, okay, it stung. He wasn’t going to lie about that part, but he’d recovered from worse. He took a long pull on his beer and cast a glance over his shoulder, checking the bar one more time, as if he’d somehow made a mistake. Perhaps, if he swept his eyes across the space just the right way, squinted his eyes just hard enough, his friends might materialize at a table. They didn’t.
He could go back home and spend a night in private feeling sorry for himself. Which would be a fucking waste. He looked so fucking hot tonight—his short black hair beautifully styled, a touch of eyeliner, leather pants that he knew he wore well, and a fitted shirt meant to show the most tempting flashes of his ink. He could stay here, have a drink or two more, maybe pick someone up as a little apology to himself for not having better friends.
But he had to admit it wouldn’t really make him feel better. What was the fucking point? He sighed loudly, not bothering to pretend that he was having a great time. He was sad, actually, and moping wasn’t a crime.
Someone sat down on the barstool next to him, and he glanced over. Preppy, like he’d wandered out of a fucking country club or something. Ed took a second, longer look to see if the man’s aged-up frat bros were coming up behind him, but he appeared to be alone.
“Hello,” the man said. “Mind if I sit here?”
“Free country, mate,” Ed replied.
“Hmm, maybe,” the man said and signaled the bartender. “I find it never hurts to be polite, and I came over here with the intention of speaking to you.” He leaned in a tiny amount and lowered his voice. “I don’t mean to bother you, but are you okay?”
“What?” Ed asked, suddenly feeling defensive.
“You look like, well, it looks like someone stood you up.” The man hurried on, as if he were afraid that Ed would get angry, “I’ve been there, is all, and I thought if you wanted some company, maybe…”
Ed looked at him for real now, past the boring clothes and immediate perception of wealth and confidence. Now that he was truly paying attention, he was surprised he’d fallen for it. It was…protective camouflage. A dozen little tells revealed that first impression as a lie, from the pops of color seeded through his business casual to the fluffiness of his golden hair, but the biggest giveaway was the gentleness in the man’s face—he was hiding in plain sight.
Probably not an asshole, especially not if he’d come over here to make Ed feel better. Kind of weird, really. Ed was used to being approached, but generally more, “Hey, wanna fuck in the bathroom?” Never by someone concerned about his feelings.
Ed blinked. “Edward Teach, Ed. Don’t mind, I guess.” He held out a hand.
“Stede Bonnet.” He took Ed’s hand and shook it before releasing it. Stede smiled and asked, “So what has you here tonight?”
Ed was tempted to lie. There were so many easy half-truths to offer. He’d expected his friends, and they hadn’t made it. He wondered if Annie and Mary were high, if Jack was in jail or getting his dick wet. If they’d not only forgotten the date but the fucking day of the week.
He studied Stede one more time, appreciating his blond hair, which was sort of whimsically styled for the person he clearly meant to pretend he was. Ed shifted his impression of him a little further to the left.
Stede wasn’t entirely who he appeared to be. His eyes, though, their hazel depths were kind, their expression soft, and Ed gave into the temptation to just spill out the truth.
“It’s my birthday. It’s my birthday, and my friends forgot to come.”
Stede’s eyes went wide with shock and concern. “No, but that’s…Oh, no that’s miserable!”
“Not making me feel better,” Ed said with a little amusement.
“Gosh, no, I imagine not. But, oh, Ed! I do wish they'd remembered!”
“Yeah, me too. Would’ve been nice, probably.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you today?”
Ed grinned. “Twenty-eight. Old enough that I shouldn’t care if my friends forgot my birthday.”
“There’s not an expiration date on wanting people to care about you, I’m sure. Would you say that you’re more of a chocolate or a vanilla?” Stede asked, apparently at random.
Was that a—Ed looked down at himself—a race question? He was pushing the slider on the asshole designation back the other direction when Stede clarified.
“Cake! Would you say you prefer—”
Fuck. Oh. “Chocolate, yeah, chocolate.”
“Cool,” Stede said with a huge grin. “Just do something for me and hang out for a little bit? I’ll be back!” He took a last sip of his drink, throwing some cash by his glass, and slid off the stool to make his way toward the exit.
Ha, fucking weirdo. Like, apparently, the dude was going to go get him a slice of cake or something. It was sweet and a little wild to do for a perfect stranger, but what the fuck ever. Ed maybe wouldn’t mind if someone was a little nice to him for once. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had gotten cake for him. His mum, probably. He didn’t think there were any bakeries still open nearby, and at this point in the evening, Stede would be pushing it for restaurants too, but Ed could hang out. Wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
He ordered another beer and took a glance around the bar, noticing a table clearing out, so he picked up his beer and went over to claim it. He was going to eat his maybe cake in fucking comfort. When a server came by, Ed ordered Stede another drink and then wondered if that was a mistake. Perhaps the guy wasn’t actually coming back.
Ed wouldn’t worry about it yet. He shifted his chair so he could watch the door, which meant he saw the moment the lunatic returned but not with the anticipated slice of cake. No, he was carrying with an entire fucking sheet cake in one of those big plastic boxes, and he had a bunch of balloons clutched in one hand.
His face fell when he saw Ed was missing from the bar. Ed lifted a hand in the air and waved it to draw his attention. Stede’s expression brightened immediately, and he made his way over, gently setting the cake down before handing the strings of the balloons to Ed. He slid a plastic bag off his forearm and began removing items from it, and Ed came to the realization that Stede had brought everything—candles, a little tube of cheap gel icing, plates, plastic utensils, and fucking party hats.
“How the fuck?” Ed asked, not ungraciously, just confused.
“Twenty-four hour grocery store!” Stede said with very evident cheer. He popped the lid off the cake. It was a single layer, chocolate frosting spread over it and decoratively piped along the top and bottom edges. Stede opened the tube of gel icing with a pocket knife before scrawling on the cake: Happy 28th Birthday, Ed!
It was sloppy, and Ed thought he might weep. While he was very much not tearing up, Stede was ripping open the candle packaging. He dropped big, molded candles, a two and an eight, at the center top before carefully counting out another twenty-six and jamming them in.
“And one to grow on,” Stede said, placing a twenty-ninth. He reached into the plastic bag one more time and brought out a lighter, which was the first time in several minutes he’d looked away from the cake.
Ed was not actually keeping his shit together. He could feel the way his eyes were tearing up.
Stede took in his expression. “Oh shit, it’s too much, isn’t it? I always do this. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Nah. It’s good.” Ed pulled himself together with effort. “It’s, uh, really nice. Just recognizing that I was maybe more upset than I was letting on.”
“No big deal,” Stede said carelessly, easily dismissing his own kindness.
“Uh, yeah. Can we light it up?”
“Mind if I do the honors?”
Ed shook his head, and Stede lit one of the candles and quickly used it to light the others on the cake until it glowed a little blaze of lights. Ed was daring someone to complain, but given that smoking was allowed, he couldn’t imagine them being banned from their own small conflagration.
Stede started in on the birthday song, singing quietly but with feeling. Ed laughed as he finished it and blew out the candles.
Stede smiled at him and then said, “Oh! We forgot your festive hat.” He offered one to Ed. And yeah, it was a ridiculous thing to wear, but fuck it if he wasn’t going to celebrate the shit out of his birthday. He pulled down the elastic string and settled it on his head.
“Do you mind?” Stede asked with a gesture before arranging the hat to what Ed had to assume was a more even angle. Stede followed it up by sliding on his own hat. “Happy birthday!” He exclaimed, doing actual jazz hands.
This fucking stranger was going all out, and Ed was baffled and charmed. “Why?” he blurted.
“I know what it feels like to not have your birthday remembered. I just did what I wished my friends…or family would do. It really isn’t too much?” Stede asked, brows pulling down with concern.
“No. It isn’t. This is perfect.”
“Okay!” Stede visibly brightened. “Corner, edge, or center?”
“Corner. Got a bit of a sweet tooth,” Ed admitted softly.
“Fab!” Stede cut into the cake with a plastic knife, slicing off the corner and transferring it to the plate with a fork. He pushed it over to Ed, almost like he was offering it to a stray cat.
Ed couldn’t imagine what expression he might be making to get that response, so he deliberately curved up his lips and took the cake from Stede. “Thank you. This is really fuckin’ nice.”
Stede was putting his own slice on a plate, an edge, but he left the spare decorative frosting on the cake platter, and Ed made a mental note to scoop up the abandoned bits in a few.
Then they were both eating cake in silence, and Ed was trying not to laugh or melt over this entirely weird moment. He watched Stede nibbling at his piece with such careful, well-honed manners that Ed found himself considering how he had ended up in this dump. Someone like him shouldn’t be here. Why was Stede in this bar, and what had compelled him to be so kind to a complete stranger?
“You throw a lot of impromptu birthday parties?” Ed asked.
Stede shook his head. “Can’t say I do.” He paused as if he really had to contemplate it. “I don’t think I’ve ever put together a birthday party before tonight.” He shrugged.
Ed thought about that and realized that Stede was here by himself. No one had protested his dash out. No one seemed to be missing him. Guys like him usually seemed to travel in packs. “Wait, where are your friends?” he asked.
“They must have told me the wrong bar. It seems to happen a lot. You’d think that they’d be better organized.” Stede’s words were calm, his tone even, but his fingers were agitatedly picking at the edge of his plate. He met Ed’s eyes. “I don’t mind so much. It meant I was here for your birthday.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Ed said, and watched Stede’s posture relax.
“Thanks,” Stede said, and he took another polite bite of cake.
Ed, as planned, annexed Stede’s spare frosting bits from the cake tray, savoring the chocolate buttercream while he thought. “What do you do for a living?” Not the most original of questions, but Ed was navigating through a list of contrasts and felt this question would set him on the right path.
Stede groaned, a sound packed with misery, and his face contorted around it. “Anything but that!” He tossed his fork onto his plate, set his shoulders back, and said, “I work for my father. I’m a nepotism hire for a job so soulless that I would rather do anything else. I spend all day ‘yes-sir’-ing him and his cronies. It’s so dreary. And I don’t have a choice! To him, being a father is ownership, and I’m the particularly brainless cow that keeps getting out of my pen.”
Ed giggled at the image. “Sounds like you’re a trial.”
“I wish I was more of one, and he’d see fit to put me out of my misery.” Stede’s eyes widened. “That sounds darker than I meant it to be. It’s just, it’s something to feel like nothing in your life belongs to you or reflects who you’d actually want to be.”
Ed reached over and patted Stede’s forearm. “Hey, it’s okay. I think my dad wanted to actually do me in, but he was a miserable fuck. Guess I’m lucky the, uh, drugs got him first.”
Stede watched him, expression serious. “I’m glad you’re here. I mean, tonight, but in general, too. It’s nice to talk to someone who…” Stede trailed off, seeming unable to finish his train of thought. He shook off the moment and finished, “It’s really nice. That’s all. What do you do?”
Ed could feel his grin getting bigger. He was wasting his fucking time, but at least he was good at it. “I fucking sell cars, mate. It’s not, like, my life’s calling or whatever, but it pays well, and the work isn’t so bad. Fast-paced, and it isn’t boring. Also I tell my boss to fuck off all the time, and he can’t do shit because I’m his fucking golden goose.”
“Must be glorious.” Stede smiled. “Got any hobbies? Interests? Favorite things to do?”
Don’t say you, Ed thought. Like Stede was cute and thoughtful, but there was no way this pretty pseudo-frat-boy-gone businessman was anything other than straight. The joke formed on his lips anyway. “I love romantic movies, long walks in the park, beaches at sunset, and cuddles.”
Stede’s entire expression brightened. “Oh! But that all sounds delightful. Mary doesn’t go for any of that.”
Who’s this Mary, then? “Mary?” Ed asked.
“My fiancée.” Stede was staring down at the partially eaten cake on his plate. “She’s pleasant enough.”
Ed had to know what the fuck that meant. “Pleasant enough?”
“We’re…it’s not...Our families arranged it. It’s like the job. She’s nice, but we’re just friendly. It isn’t romantic really.”
Ed could feel his mouth hanging open. “What century is it again?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s ridiculous, but it’s not like I have a better plan. I’m pretty useless, all things considered.”
“Oh, come on! That, at least, has to be bullshit.” Ed reached out and snagged a ribbon, tugging it down so that the attached balloon bounced. “This isn’t useless. I was having a shit night, mate. You made it better.”
“Yeah?” Stede asked.
“Yeah. I really should get better friends. I expect this shit from Jack, but you should have seen the shindig we put together for Annie’s birthday.”
“Annie?”
Ed didn’t want to get into the complexities of everything he and his friends were doing. They all liked to keep it loose, so he just went with the simplest version. “Kind of an on-again, off-again thing. Casual,” he said it dismissively, not wanting Stede to think he was…What? Taken? Ha, as if Stede weren’t taken in a very incomprehensible rich people way. Fucking arranged marriages.
“Ah,” Stede said, the line of his mouth implying that Ed’s kind of relationship was equally incomprehensible to him. “I’d be your friend. If you’d like?” He looked away and back again, a sort of vulnerability in his posture as he added, “I could use someone to talk to. It’s nice to not have to pretend that I’m happy with everything. It would be wonderful to have someone I could be truly honest with.”
“Yeah? Well, it would be nice to have someone that reliably shows up.”
Stede laughed. “You will have to give me the right location.”
Ed held out his hand, offering it for a shake, to seal the deal. “I will be your friend, and I promise to always invite you and tell you the right place to be.”
Stede’s grin was huge. “I’ll be your friend, and I promise I’ll always show up.”
Ed squeezed his hand once before letting go. “We’re going to be great.”
###
One Year Later - May 5, 2007
Silence sat heavy in the car as Stede navigated his way across the city. He and Mary were headed to a bar, not the same one as last year, so Ed had texted him the address. Mary had dressed down for the evening, but hadn’t broken away from the expected aesthetic. She'd chosen a baby blue shirt dress, a string of pearls, and a pair of white sandals.
Stede didn’t look at her, knowing that usually her silence wasn’t a good thing. It meant that she was chewing on something and that whatever she had to say next would likely be something he didn’t want to hear.
They arrived on the correct block, and Stede parked the car. Mary shifted, crossing her ankles the other direction, and then cleared her throat.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but he doesn’t fit.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to hear that because it’s not true. You don’t get to say that, and you can’t prove that you’re right. He belongs wherever I want him to be.”
“Come on, Stede, don’t pull that dense shit on me. He does not, in fact, belong, and your father hates it. I’m sure if he could figure out how to ban you from a friendship as a twenty-nine-year-old man, he would.”
“Glad we’ve finally found an area of my life he doesn’t entirely own. Good on you for only having appropriate friends. Your mother must be so pleased.”
Mary snorted. “You’re such a bitch, you know that? I just do a better job hiding my ‘inappropriate friends.’ I certainly have connections that my mother wouldn't love, but I’m much better at sneaking around than you are.”
“I’m not interested in hiding my best friend.”
“Fine.” Mary tossed her hands up. “Sure, don’t hide him, but you shouldn’t have invited him to your birthday party.”
“What was I supposed to do? Tell him he wasn’t invited?”
“God. You’re so pigheaded. It was at your fucking parents’ house. Ed’s savvy enough to know why you might not have included him.”
“I wanted to include him.”
“And it went so well. I’m sure he was very comfortable there, but that’s really beside the point. You are adding insult to injury by blowing off your mother’s dinner party tonight.”
“We have a pact! I promised to always come.” Stede could feel the strain of this conversation digging into him. Part of him suspected that Mary was right. His father would not continue to tolerate his friendship with Ed, and yet, with Ed he'd finally found the ground he was unwilling to yield.
“He would have understood, and you can’t keep tweaking your father like this. He’s not the most patient of men, and if you keep pushing Ed in his face, he’s going to make it a point of contention. You get that, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.” The muscles in his jaw were tensing, and he could do nothing to prevent it. He hoped he didn’t look like his father in a snit. “He gets literally everything else. Everything, Mary! He doesn’t get Ed too.”
“I think the problem is that he does get Ed.” Mary sighed.
“What? The wrong side of the tracks thing? The not our class thing? Fuck him. It’s not hurting anything.”
Mary stared at him, her eyebrows raised, lines forming between them. “No, not that. Or not only that.”
“What else would it be?” Stede asked, frustrated.
“The fact that he’s…you know.” Her brows went even higher, marking her face with uncertainty.
“I know?” Stede stared back, truly not understanding what she was implying.
Mary studied his face, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Or not.” She shook her head. “Guess I could be wrong,” she whispered, seemingly to herself.
Stede raised his chin, working to project confidence. “There’s nothing wrong with Ed. He’s a good person. Could we please just go in? I don’t want to be late. And I can manage my father, really.”
“Of course you can,” Mary said dryly. “You’re really brilliant at saying ‘How high, sir?’ whenever he tells you to jump.”
“What if I am? It keeps him off my back.”
“Does it?” she asked, Stede presumed rhetorically.
She was right, of course. It only marginally kept his father placated. Edward Bonnet looked like he had permanent indigestion, and Stede was the perpetual cause. Only, Stede didn’t want to think about it tonight.
Excitement coursed through him. He was celebrating tonight—one entire year of friendship with Ed. He shut off the car, exited the vehicle, and walked around the front to open Mary’s door for her. Mary stepped out onto the sidewalk, and Stede shut the passenger door, locking the vehicle, and taking her arm. The ridiculous, stiff formality of the action was so ingrained as to be impossible to skip. Also Stede knew they shouldn't form bad habits just because they weren't currently being observed.
Stede had a wrapped gift clutched in his free hand. He rubbed a fingertip against the thick, expensive paper and found himself wishing that he’d saved this part for him and Ed only, in private. He hadn’t really been thinking about Ed’s friends being present when he gave Ed his gift. He sighed. At worst, they’d be assholes about it, but they were sort of assholes all the time. It wasn’t notably any different than the mockery he was well-used to receiving from the Badmintons. At least Ed’s friends generally meant it in a playful way. He assumed.
He went through the battered wooden door and into the poorly lit bar, scanning the space to find Ed seated at a big table to the right. Mary slid her arm loose from his and walked around the table to greet the two women sitting there, Mary Read and Annie Bonny.
Annie's smile curved wickedly when she saw Stede. He couldn't ever seem to make out where he stood with her or where she stood with Ed. She and Ed fought so frequently that Stede could never guess if she was Ed's girlfriend at any given moment. He believed they were maybe “off” again? As if hearing his thoughts, Annie yielded her seat to allow Mary to sit down before shoving her braced-up breasts in Ed’s face.
Ed laughed and put a hand to her hip, shifting her away from him with an affectionate, “Oh, fuck off.”
Annie sat down in Jack’s lap instead, leaving a chair free next to Ed. Stede slid into it and felt a little thrill of pleasure when Ed leaned in to give him a quick one-armed hug. Stede had grown more used to Ed's easy touches over time, but the adjustment had been slow. That kind of intimacy was uncommon in Stede's world, where icy formality ruled, and he could go days without a friendly touch.
He couldn't help but compare the way Mary’s fingers had hovered delicately on his arm moments before to the broad warmth of Ed's hand on his back. It reminded him of watching movies together on Stede’s couch. Ed would make himself at home, leaning against Stede and insisting that they squish onto a single cushion. He always pointed out that it was much easier to share snacks that way.
“Hey,” Ed said with a grin.
“Happy birthday,” Stede said, pitched for Ed’s ears alone. He fidgeted with the gift box, fighting the impulse to run it back out to the car. He could just give it to Ed later.
Ed followed the motion and spotted the present. “Not a whole cake this year?” he asked with clear amusement.
Stede shook his head. “No, but you shouldn’t open it here. It’s—”
“Hey, it’s not a problem,” Ed said quietly, and then more loudly, “Stede forgot something in his car, we’re going to go get it.”
Stede checked on Mary, but she didn’t seem bothered, apparently lost in conversation with Mary Read.
Ed had already stood, and he placed his hand on Stede’s shoulder. “Come on.”
Stede got to his feet and followed him out of the bar. They didn’t walk to his car, instead standing to the side of the door, Ed lounging against the building.
“Gimme,” Ed said happily, using his hand to push a loose black curl behind an ear before holding it out to Stede open-palmed.
Stede hesitated. Now that the moment had arrived, he was sure that his gift was terrible and that Ed would hate it. “I can get you something else,” he rushed out.
Ed quirked his right brow. “I haven’t even opened it yet.”
“I overthought it!” Stede said miserably, but placed the box on Ed’s hand anyway.
Ed studied the flat shape and rattled it slightly before giggling. “Oh my god, did you get me a fancy fucking pen?”
“No!” Stede said, “I think that would actually be worse. Just open it.”
Ed tore off the paper and lifted the lid. The watch inside was entirely black, case and band both, the face a series of numbers and exposed gears. “Fuck, this is cool,” Ed said, lifting it up to peer at the face. As he loosened it from the box, he asked, “Why a watch?”
“Because you’re always asking me the time.”
“That’s because you’re wearing a watch. Don’t need one if I’m with you. Also,” he shrugged, “I have a pretty good sense of time. I’m more checking the calibration of my internal clock.”
“Oh,” Stede said, feeling a stab of disappointment. “Like I said, it’s silly. I can really get you something else.” He held out his hand to take it back.
Ed grinned, taking a step away. “Nah, keepin’ it.” He was messing with the buckle to get it secured on. “You spend your entire allowance on this?”
Ed truly meant it as a joke. He’d taken Stede’s abhorrent wealth in stride, dismissing it with the fact that he knew a lot of rich fucks, but Ed knew that it made Stede more comfortable if he poked fun at it, so he did.
“Yep, absolutely,” Stede said with a nod, torn between admitting how expensive it actually was and not really wanting Ed to know. He deserved fine things too. “Got ‘BFF’ engraved on the back too. Cost extra.”
Ed burst into a fit of giggles. “You would.”
“May I see it for a moment?” Stede asked. Ed held out his arm, and Stede took it, palm against the underside of Ed’s wrist while he studied the watch, fingers against the band. “It’s perfect. It looks just like I imagined it would. Sophisticated.”
“Watches usually are,” Ed replied offhandedly.
“I meant you.” Stede released Ed’s wrist, but smiled as warmly as he could, hoping that it would help Ed understand, at least a little, how he saw him. Mary could continue to worry about class and how Stede’s father would take it, but Stede knew that Ed deserved the best things.
“Yeah, that’s me. It’s what I’m known for, my absolute cool and general air of sophistication.” Ed laughed again. “Thank you. Probably for the best you gave it to me out here. None of those fuckers got me a gift this year either, unless you count, ‘Hey, bud, I’ll blow you in the bathroom.’”
Annie really could be quite crass. Stede huffed out in annoyance on Ed’s behalf. “I’ll take you for ice cream next week.”
“Only if you bring the sparkly party hats to wear. Need everyone to know I’m the birthday boy, even if it’s late.”
“Oh, well, we really must,” Stede said, finding himself leaning in toward Ed. Stede could talk to Ed forever. He found conversation with him comfortable in a way that was rare with other people. Time sped past in Ed's delightful company.
Ed leaned into Stede, eyes meeting his, as if he was searching for something, but whatever it was, he apparently didn’t find it. Ed winced and took a step back, and Stede wondered what he’d fucked up this time.
Ed clapped Stede on the shoulder. “We better get back inside. I’d have a lot of explaining to do if my friends end up eating your fiancée.”
“They’re not that bad,” Stede said.
“Annie and Mary? It’s pretty fucking likely. Let’s go.” Ed dropped the wrapping paper and box into a trashcan. Then, seeming to reconsider, he looked in after the box. “Fuck, that wasn’t expensive too, was it?”
“No, or I would have said something.” Stede reached for the door handle to pull it open, and Ed entered the bar in front of him. They made their way back to the table together.
“Hey, Eddie, get up to anything I’d like to hear about out there?” Jack bellowed, shaking a loose fist in the air like a bad dance move.
Actually, all of Ed’s friends were crass, now that Stede was thinking about it. Also, while this part of the city was perhaps a little run down, it wasn’t like there were women of ill repute out in front of the bar to do any of the things Jack was implying. Stede rolled his eyes, and said, “Of course not.”
“But not for lack of trying, huh!” Jack roared out a laugh, as if he were being quite witty.
Stede was running out of patience, and the night had barely started. He never found Jack’s mean-spirited humor amusing, and his constant leering was irritating.
“Aww, come on, Jack. Can you lay off it? Just for the day?” Ed asked.
“Why? Is it special or something?” Jack continued to chuckle.
“It’s his birthday,” Stede replied in a snippy tone. “Not that I’d expect you lot to remember.”
“I didn’t forget,” Jack said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Offer still stands, baby!”
“Gonna pass on that,” Ed replied casually.
Stede wondered what Jack could have possibly suggested. It probably wasn’t something Ed would actually enjoy, like going for ice cream. Mary was still sandwiched between the other two women, looking comfortable enough, so Stede reseated himself next to Ed.
He again found himself wishing that it could have been just the two of them, like last year, and then chided himself for his selfishness. He appreciated Mary's generosity in offering to come and couldn't fault Ed for wanting to share his special day with all of his friends. Stede only wished he could reconcile himself to their...abrasiveness, especially given the fact that Ed tended to match their energy. Ed was softer when it was him and Stede alone.
Ed switched the topic to music, and Jack followed, dropping the sex talk to whine about how heartbroken he still was that Creed’s break up meant no new albums from them. He continued, “I’m okay, really, because ‘Higher’ was fucking life changing, you know?”
Stede kept relatively quiet. He loved fashion, he did, but trends in general tended to slide past him, leaving him forever uncool, and he was uninterested in displaying that particular quirk to this crowd. At least the night was passing with less contention than he’d worried about.
They made it a couple of hours before things spectacularly fell apart. Jack had been getting progressively drunker, and Stede had watched Ed neatly manage Jack as his words and actions grew sloppier.
Jack was at a tilt in his chair and winked at Mary, taking in her blue dress with a lewd squint. “How ‘bout you show me a flash of them titties, cutie? Or you too uptight to give ol' Jack a look?”
Stede was on his feet immediately. “Excuse me! You will not speak to her like that. It’s unmannered.”
“Oooh, ‘unmannered.’ I must be pretty fucking uncouth in your books then.” Jack laughed and took another swig of his drink, dropping the empty glass on the table. “Why don’t you go get me something else to drink, pretty boy, and let a real man handle your woman.”
Mary stood too. “I’ll let you know when I see one. I’m ready to go, Stede. I’ll be in the car while you settle up.” Stede handed her his keys, and she walked out of the bar gracefully, careless dignity in every step, as if she were a queen, and Jack was the cockroach she’d just crushed under her boot.
Stede made his way to the bar to pay his tab, Ed coming behind him.
“Mate, I'm sorry. Jack's just like that. He doesn’t mean anything by it. Let me at least get your drinks.”
Stede turned to look at him. Ed’s face was creased with worry. “It’s your birthday,” Stede reminded him. “I’d like to get yours. Who cares about Jack?” He paid and put away his wallet, and started out the door, Ed still following him.
They stood outside in the cool night air for a moment, and then Ed leaned in and tugged Stede into a hug, both arms this time. Stede relaxed into it.
“Thanks for remembering. My birthday, I mean,” he said softly.
“As if I’d forget, especially given how we met.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s nice. To be remembered.” Ed let go and took a step back, touching his right hand to the watch on his wrist. “Thank you. It’s…considerate.” He darted in and gave Stede the lightest brush of a kiss against his cheek, before pulling quickly back. “I’ll text you!” he called over his shoulder as he rushed back into the bar.
Stede stood there a moment looking after him before finally starting to the car.