Archive of Our Own

In hindsight, Stede shouldn’t be surprised that his children are the inciting force for everything that happens.

He loves his kids, he loves them more than anything in the world, and he wants to be a good dad to them, even though things didn’t work out between him and Mary. He and Mary’s romantic incompatibility—only in part because Stede had realized far too late into their marriage that he wasn’t attracted to women at all and was, in fact, extremely gay—doesn’t mean he loves Alma and Louis any less.

So it should come as no surprise that his love for his children is exactly what lands him in this mess.

The three of them are having a rather lovely dinner back at his apartment—not anything he cooked because Stede is a disaster in the kitchen at best and a fire hazard at worst—when Louis chooses to break the easy, calm silence stretching between them.

“Dad.”

Stede looks up, placing his half eaten slice of pizza on his plate. “Hmm?”

His son asks the question as if it is a completely normal, socially appropriate thing to ask during a family dinner. “Are you going to die alone?”

“What!? ” Stede shrieks.

He knows he’s blinking rapidly, his mouth is hanging open, and he probably looks a bit like a fish caught on a hook right now. But he can’t be blamed, that question came out of nowhere. He doesn’t know what to think.

Louis opens his mouth to speak again. “I asked if—”

Alma reaches over and smacks her brother’s shoulder. “You can’t ask things like that!”

Louis looks at her with wide eyes. “Why not?”

Alma crosses her arms. “It’s just not appropriate!”

Stede watches his children’s continued back and forth, and he should probably step in and say something, but his brain is buffering, like a computer from the past millennium. He isn’t even registering what his children are saying anymore, he’s just watching them speak while remaining in some strange trance until…

“I asked because mom and Doug—”

Stede’s seemingly impermeable brain fog is finally pierced through. “Ah.” He scratches the side of his head. “Who’s Doug?”

Alma and Louis immediately stop bickering and turn to face him.

“He’s Mother’s painting instructor,” Alma says, far too quickly.

Stede quirks an eyebrow. “Painting instructor?” he repeats. 

Stede may not always be the most perceptive when it comes to social situations, but he’s not an idiot, so he knows that Alma isn’t telling him everything. He knows that Mary loves to paint, and he’s happy she’s decided to pursue the hobby more seriously since their divorce—that’s why he’s responsible for the kids tonight, she’s preparing for her upcoming art show—but this has to be something else. A painting instructor isn’t significant enough to mention during a family dinner, and somehow Louis’ exceedingly strange question must tie in.

Alma sighs, and Stede knows exactly what she’s going to say before the words leave her mouth. “He’s also Mother’s boyfriend.”

Stede nods. “Ah.” He fiddles with the collar of his shirt. “I—er—didn’t know your mother had started dating again.”

“It’s kinda new,” Alma explains. She stares down at the table. “She didn’t want us to tell you yet. And I wasn't supposed to tell you that either.” She winces. “Oops.” 

Stede swallows the lump forming in his throat. “I see.” He knows the expression on his face right now is embarrassingly pitiful.

It’s not that Stede isn’t happy for Mary, he is actually. After years of being trapped in a marriage where they both stagnated, she deserves nothing more than a fulfilling relationship. It’s just, even though the immediate aftermath of their divorce hadn’t been the cleanest, what with sorting out custody of their children and all that, he’s now come to think of Mary as a close friend. He was expecting she would feel comfortable telling him something like this.

Louis takes a bite of his slice of pizza. “So if Mom has Doug,” he says through a mouthful of food, “why don’t you have anyone?”

Alma looks back up from her half-eaten pizza slice to give her brother a stern glare, and Stede isn’t sure if it’s an objection to his lack of table manners or the question itself.

Stede rakes a hand through his hair. “Haven’t found the right person, I suppose.” He takes a bite of his food. “Besides, adults don’t need to be in a relationship to be fulfilled.”

“But,” Louis presses on, “Doug makes Mom happy.” He looks up at Stede with pleading eyes. “Don’t you want to be happy?”

Stede sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

Because it’s not, he’s proudly out and while he’s considered giving dating a go, he just hasn’t met anyone who has struck his fancy. No one who he thinks would effectively integrate into his life, and especially no one who he would want spending time around the kids. And his kids are the most important thing.

Alma looks back at him, the stern expression on her face shifting into a smirk. “It could be. If you let me give you some pointers, that is.”

Stede frowns at his daughter. This is not where he’d been expecting the conversation to go. “You want to give me… pointers?”

Alma nods quickly. “I’ve watched all the great rom-coms, Clueless, Mean Girls, The Princess Diaries—”

Stede cuts her off. “Your mother is letting you watch those movies?”

Alma completely ignores his question, which is an answer enough for Stede. “—point is,” she continues, “I know how to get the guy.”

Stede feels his face heat up at the quite frankly mortifying suggestion. “I’m not taking flirting advice from my children!”

Alma tilts her head. “Your loss.”

Mercifully, they drop the topic and the rest of dinner goes without any other interesting conversations. Things go back to being easy, simple, normal—Stede asks them about school and Alma goes on and on about her new interest in horses—but his children’s words continue to buzz in Stede’s head.

As annoying as his children are for prodding into his personal life, they make a surprisingly decent point. He isn’t exactly happy. While Mary is seemingly flourishing in his absence, establishing an entire painting career and now, apparently, dating Doug, Stede can’t say the same is true for him. He’s definitely felt more free since the divorce, don’t get him wrong, he’s still struggling to find what makes him happy.

His earlier words to Louis were not exactly a lie, adults don’t need a relationship to be fulfilled, and happiness and having a partner are not synonymous things, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want one. It’s just not that simple with his kids and everything. Fresh out of his divorce, he’d been on the dating apps a bit, met a few nice people, had a nice dinner with them, slept with a few of them, and kissing and sex with men had been… some sort of revelation, but the minute any of them had found out he had two kids, well, things had ended there.

Not that he would have wanted any of those people in his kid’s lives anyway.

But if Mary has found a way to make it work… maybe, just maybe…

Stede shakes the idea out of his head.

No, he can’t. 

“Uh,” Alma says, picking at her food. “You okay, dad?”

Stede forces a smile. “I’m fine.”

Alma tilts her head, eyes slightly narrowed as if she doesn’t quite believe him, but wipes that expression off her face rather quickly as she dives into demolishing another slice of pizza.

It’s not a lie, he is fine.

So long as his kids are here.

Try as he might, Stede cannot get his children’s words out of his head.

He’s told himself over and over again that he can’t date, not when he needs to focus on being a good parent. But it does nothing to push away that nagging, gnawing feeling warning him that by denying himself his own potential happiness, so much that even his kids have picked up on it, he’s not being a good parent at all.

Doesn’t he want to be happy?

His children’s innocent questions shift into something else, something darker that won’t stop echoing in his head. It echoes when he works his drab white-collar corporate job, when he cooks dinner and attempts to not burn down the kitchen, when he tries to drift off to sleep each night while his bed remains too cold and too empty, when he goes down the laundry room to toss his clothes into one of the shared washing machines—

He’s going to die alone, he’s never going to be happy, he’s an unlovable, mess of a man.

—and collides with someone else.

He tips back, but rights his balance when he feels a steadying hand on his arm. He’s eternally grateful. Without it, he might pitch over and slam head first into the tile. 

“Woah, mate, you alright?”

It’s only when Stede hears the voice that he identifies who caught him.

Stede wouldn’t quite consider Ed his friend, but when they do run into each other in the building—in the laundry room, in the foyer, in the hallways—conversation always flows naturally. He’s a lovely acquaintance, at best. 

“I’m alright,” Stede says, though it comes out as a bit of a squeak. “Just… wanted to—ah—get my laundry done.”

“Hope so.” Ed smirks. “’nless you make a habit of stalking your neighbours in the laundry room.” 

Stede’s face burns. “Uh—no. I don’t—do that.”

It’s only then that Stede notices Ed’s clothing is strewn across the floor, Ed must have dropped it when Stede ran into him. If possible, his cheeks flush hotter. “Fuck.” Stede sets down his laundry basket, which he mercifully knocked nothing from, and crouches down to grab some of Ed’s articles of clothing off the floor.

“S’okay,” Ed says, collecting the remaining items of clothing. Once all his clothing is securely back in his arms, he clears his throat. “Saw your kids were here earlier this week.”

Stede nods. “Their mother was busy setting up for her upcoming art show.”

A smile flickers across Ed’s face. “Become quite successful, hasn’t she?”

“Mhm,” Stede agrees. She really has and it’s quite wonderful. More and more of the times that Stede’s been asked to look after the kids, it’s been because of Mary’s blossoming art career. “She’s really flourished since the divorce.”

Ed tilts his head, and Stede can tell he is studying him with careful consideration. “And how about you?”

Stede feels his eyes widen. “Pardon?”

“Have you… flourished?”

He should probably say he has, leave the conversation at that—though even then Stede has a feeling Ed would see right through him, he’s uncannily good at that—but instead he snorts. “My kids sure don’t think so.”

Ed quirks an eyebrow, but says nothing.

“They’re so convinced I need a partner to be happy,” Stede says, as he chucks some of his clothing into one of the washers. “But it’s too hard to date, impossible to find someone who wants to be around kids and further who I would want around my kids.” He huffs out a self deprecating laugh. “It’s stupid, but I guess I have impossible standards.”

“It’s not stupid, shut up,” Ed says, nudging Stede’s arm. “Standards should be high, ‘specially when it comes to people you want around your kids. Nothin’ less than perfect, I reckon.”

Stede shakes his head, as he continues to load the washing machine. “Perfect might be a bit of a stretch, but yes, you’re right about that, at least. I do only want the best person around them.” He sighs heavily. “Unfortunately, dating apps are not the way to go, let me tell you. Everyone keeps asking me how I would fight God? Why on Earth would I do that, he’s God!”

Ed chuckles. “Adventurous.” 

“More like a series of pitfalls,” Stede says, now well aware he’s complaining. But he can’t help it, for some reason, it feels too easy to open up to Ed. “I know my kids mean well, and I want to make them happy, but I just—don’t think I’d be able to find a partner that easily.”

“Hmm,” Ed hums. “Might have an idea.”

Stede turns around to face him. “Yes?”

He says the words casually, cavalierly, as if they bear no weight, no meaning. “Why not date me?”

Every single cell in Stede’s body freezes, not at the absurdity of the suggestion, but at the idea that he actually wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not at all.

There’s no denying that Ed is attractive, beautiful even. His arms are muscular and covered in tattoos that Stede has definitely thought about tracing—with his fingers, with his lips, with his tongue—more times than he can count for someone who’s just a friendly neighbour. He has long salt and pepper hair and a matching beard that perfectly frames his face; and his eyes are a bottomless depth of nothing but kindness. His chest is currently being hugged exquisitely by a purple t-shirt, and his ass even more spectacularly so by pants that appear to be entirely leather. 

But it’s not just Ed’s looks. 

He’s always kind and, though they haven’t quite crossed the line to friendship, Ed is unbelievably easy to talk to. He’s a good listener, he offers good advice, the few times he’s caught Stede toppling into self deprecation, he’s been quick to shut him down and offer reassurances. He’s funny, and his eyes practically sparkle whenever he tells a joke. And his laugh is nothing short of melodic. Something Stede thinks he could hear time and time again and never grow tired of.

Sure, Stede had never expected someone to ask him out in such a way, but the more he thinks about it, the more he wraps his mind around it, the more appealing it sounds. He’d be more than happy to date Ed. It’s like a flower has bloomed to life inside his chest.

Of course, he says none of this and only then does he notice he’s staring at Ed. “Oh,” he finally manages weakly.

Ed scrubs a hand down his face. “Not for real!” he quickly corrects.

Too quickly.

“Oh,” Stede breathes again. Whatever flower was beginning to bloom only seconds ago has withered and died.

“Would be fake,” Ed explains. “Have met your kids in passing, and they’re kids, they won’t know the difference.” He tosses his clothing in the empty washer, adds detergent, queues the wash cycle, and shuts the door.

The idea of lying to his kids doesn't sit right with Stede. In fact it goes exactly against his aim of being a good parent.

“I’m not going to lie to my children!” Stede snaps, and then he immediately regrets it. Ed was just trying to be helpful.

Ed doesn’t seem offended by his tone at all and laughs, his eyes twinkling. “That’s just parenting, mate.”

Stede juts out his lower lip in a pout. “That can’t be right.” His eyes dart around the room before landing back on Ed. “Can it?”

Ed shrugs. “Dunno, don’t y’still lie to your kids about Santa Claus?”

Stede opens his mouth to protest, but the words die on his tongue. “I—I—”

Ed presses further. “The Easter Bunny? The Tooth Fairy?”

Fuck. Little as he wants to admit it, Ed has a point. 

Stede sighs. “You might be right.”

“Always right,” Ed says, reaching forward to slug Stede’s shoulder, which causes an unexpected jolt of electricity to rush through him. Huh. That’s new.

Ed shrugs. “Just a suggestion.” He gently takes Stede’s wrist between his thumb and index finger and writes out a series of numbers against his skin in black ink. Their fingers brush as Ed slides his hand away and it sends another unexpected spark through Stede’s veins, his heart beginning to beat rapid fire in his chest. He’s acutely aware that his palms are clammy, damp with sweat, and, god , he sure hopes Ed didn’t notice.

For a brief moment, Stede stares at his wrist in confusion. “My number,” Ed clarifies, catching the blank look on Stede’s face.

Stede continues to stare at his wrist, studying Ed’s slightly messy scrawl, studying the way he curves each number. The way someone writes, he remembers learning, indicates something about their personality. But he’s not sure he’s able to draw any conclusions about Ed right now. Everything about all of this is so… unexpected.

“Text me once you’ve made up your mind,” Ed says and then he turns on his heel and steps out of the laundry room, leaving Stede with nothing but the hum of the spinning washing machine as his company.

To say Stede waffles over the decision is an understatement.

Instead of being practically haunted by his kid’s words from dinner several nights ago, now he fixates on Ed’s suggestion.

It’s not a bad idea, it’s actually quite brilliant if he thinks about it, just pretend to date Ed for long enough to convince his kids—and maybe himself— that he is happy in this new chapter of his life. And if Ed is willing, well, that means he’s already several steps ahead of every other attempted and aborted relationship since the divorce.

So, three days after his run in with Ed in the laundry room, Stede types Ed’s number into his phone and he finally, finally sends him a text. 

Ed

I’m in

12:10

To the fake relationship idea

12:10

This is Stede, by the way

12:11

Ed texts him back rather quickly and Stede help but wonder if he was waiting to hear from him.

Ed

Knew you’d come around

12:13

Something about Ed’s words makes Stede’s face heat up and his heart, honest to god, flutter in his chest. He feels pretty stupid, a text message hasn’t been enough to make him feel like this since… since well, ever.

They exchange a few more texts and eventually plan to meet up that night, agreeing that they need to establish some ground rules for this fake relationship so they’re prepared for any questions that might be thrown their way.

And it’s either the best or the worst idea in the world that they decide to make these rules over glasses of brandy. Stede justifies it by reminding himself that he’s had the bottle for a long time and hasn’t stumbled upon any other occasion to drink it. he’s confident there won’t be another occasion in the near future, and by agreeing to this—and suggesting it in the first place—Ed is doing him quite the favour, so opening the bottle can’t hurt.

“So,” Stede says as they both sit on his couch, each holding a glass of brandy, “we need to establish a backstory.”

Ed takes a sip of his drink. “Like how we met or somethin’?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Ed shrugs. “Feels pretty self explanatory since we live in the same building.”

Stede frowns and drums his fingers against his glass. “Was expecting something more detailed than that.” 

Ed frowns, but says nothing.

Stede snaps his fingers. “You know, a bit more dramatic flair. Whimsy. Creativity. We’re trying to tell a story here.”

Ed snorts. “Fine, how about one of those stupid building get togethers they throw sometimes?”

Stede nods. “That sounds promising.”

“We’d met before,” Ed continues, “and I’d always thought you were hot as shit, but something about that night made me more confident, I guess. We got to chatting and hit it off, and by the end of the night I was kissing you.”

Stede feels his face heat up and he’s not sure if it’s the alcohol circulating through his bloodstream, Ed suggesting that he’s attractive, or the idea of Ed kissing him. Or maybe it’s multifactorial. Whatever it is, he’s warm all over.

Stede tugs at the collar of his shirt and desperately tries to stop his eyes from drifting down to Ed’s mouth. He decides to shift the topic. “And how long have we been dating?”

“Don’t want to be too short ‘cos then you wouldn’t be introducin’ me to your kids. Wouldn’t wanna get their hopes up.”

“Right,” Stede agrees. “Not too long either, otherwise it’d be weird that you haven’t already met Alma and Louis.”

“How about a month?” Ed proposes. “Not too long, not too short, I reckon.”

Stede takes another sip of his brandy. “A month sounds agreeable to me. A happy medium.”

Ed smiles—just a gentle upturn of his lips—and Stede’s heart starts beating more rapidly. He feels a kaleidoscope of butterflies beat their wings against his stomach.

That must be the alcohol, he reasons. It’s messing with his brain, fucking up the way his body responds to things. 

“Anything else we need to talk about?” Ed asks.

Stede tilts his head in contemplation. “We could always lay out the terms of our agreement in a contract?”

He’s always been one for writing stuff down. It keeps them nice and organized, minimizes any potential mess.

“A contract?” Ed scoffs. “Who needs that?”

Stede's lips pull into a pout.

“It’s a rather simple plan,” Ed says, voice level and reassuring, clearly in response to the expression on Stede’s face.

Stede sighs. “I suppose you’re right,” he says. “We’re just going to fake this until my kids decide to focus on something else. Something that isn’t my personal life.”

“Shouldn’t be too long,” Ed says. “Kids are fickle as shit.”

“Kids are quite fickle,” Stede agrees. Especially Alma and Louis, who seem to shift their interests at a moment’s notice, as much he adores them. They shouldn’t need to play pretend for long at all before his kids move on to something new.

Ed drains the remaining brandy in his glass and Stede happily pours him a refill. He’s happy to use up this brandy anyway. No one else is drinking it, and it’s not like Stede hangs out with many other adults who would drink it.

God, when he puts it like that, he can see why his kids are so worried about him. 

They sit in an easy, tranquil silence, each sipping their drinks, and a warm feeling settles and makes a home in the centre of Stede’s chest. It’s not at all unpleasant.

Eventually, Stede breaks the silence with a snap of his fingers, prompting Ed’s eyes to land on him. “I just realized, I don’t know much about you, Ed.”

Ed furrows his brow. “Whaddya mean?”

“Oh, your interests, your hobbies, your career,” Stede clarifies. “We’ve chatted loads of times, but somehow I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“Not like I know much 'bout you either, mate,” Ed says, “Just know about your kids and your divorce.”

Stede nods. “That’s fair.” He leans towards Ed, some invisible force drawing him closer, but he’s careful not to push it too far. “But I’d like it if you told me, if that’s alright.”

“If that’s alright?” Ed asks.

Stede says nothing, keeping his gaze on Ed. He really does have the most exquisite eyes.

Ed laughs. “Fuck off! You’re being serious.”

“Quite. The kids might ask.” Stede wrinkles his nose. “Would be weird if we’re dating and know nothing about each other.”

Ed scratches the side of his head. “Uh, well, I work as an art curator, own multiple galleries ‘round the city, don’t have many hobbies, but I like embroidery, I guess, and as for interests, I got loads, art, obviously, music, mostly piano, think snakes are pretty interestin’, which is why I have this,” he says, pointing to the beautiful tattoo of a serpent that stretches from just beneath his shoulder to the end of his wrist.

“Well,” Stede says, “I work a white-collar desk job, much less interesting than yourself, but it pays well. I love a good book, fiction and nonfiction alike. I love to scrapbook, love plants, but only those that are easy to care for, otherwise they’ll surely be murdered in my presence.”

“Never pictured you as a plant murderer,” Ed snorts.

“Guilty,” Stede says, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Ed laughs, a bright and joyful sound, and Stede decides he quite likes drawing that sound from him. Isn’t that something indeed?

Ed hums. “What else?”

“Oh!” Stede says, eager to share as much as he can with Ed. “I have a bunch of half finished collections, movie, musical, and play tickets, old stamps, pretty rocks, sea glass…”

Stede rattles on and on listing off the variety of collections he’s started over the years. Usually he wouldn’t spend so long babbling about himself, but Ed seems so genuinely interested. His eyes never leave Stede and he swears they shine brighter with his every word. He doesn’t think anyone has ever listened to him so attentively, so enthusiastically, with such rapt interest.

Though to be fair, Stede doesn’t think he’s ever felt so comfortable sharing so much about himself with another person. Usually, when he tries to, he's immediately shut down, mocked, belittled.

He’s already decided Ed is something of an anomaly.

At one point while he’s rambling, he feels Ed nudge his ankle with his foot. Stede nudges back and watches as Ed’s grin splits his face wide.

Stede can’t help it, he stops talking just so he can smile back, mirroring Ed’s happiness in his own expression.

There’s something inexplicably infectious about Ed’s joy, after all.

The moment Stede tells his children about his (fake) relationship with Ed, they are immediately interested in meeting him.

When Stede suggests dinner, which is when he’s most frequently responsible for both Alma and Louis, Alma insists they go out to a fancy restaurant—and when her mind is made up, well, that’s the end of that. She’s a Bonnet, stubbornness runs through her veins.

Stede picks out a fancy French restaurant, books a reservation for four, and on the night of dinner finds himself nervously tugging the collar of his shirt. He’s not dressed overly formally, just a white button up layered with a vibrant teal fitted vest. They’re a bit early, but the table is available, so he, Alma and Louis are seated while they wait for Ed.

They’re not left waiting for long before Ed steps into the dining room—

He’s not too dressed up either, he’s wearing nice slacks, a purple suit jacket that brings out his eyes, and a button up with a few buttons at the top teasingly undone, enough to expose a few of the tattoos on his chest, notably the eagle on his sternum. 

—and Stede cannot take his eyes off of him.

“Fuck me,” Stede mumbles.

“Daaddddd,” Alma immediately says, “Language.”

Stede coughs and turns back to face his daughter, feeling absolutely humiliated, he can’t believe he just said that out loud. “Sorry, dear.”

It’s only when Ed sits down at their table that Stede takes in the rest of his appearance. Some of his hair is done up in a bun atop his head, but the rest remains in waves that cascade down his back. His beard is neatly trimmed and has a few purple bows woven into it. He’s picked out some nice jewelry too, a shimmering purple pendant that Stede assumes is made of amethyst and dangling earrings in the shape of swords.

Ed greets Stede by gently squeezing his shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Stede says, but it comes out more like a squeak. 

Ed simply tosses him a smile and Stede involuntarily smiles back. Ed’s eyes are brown like quicksand and Stede feels himself sinking into them—not that he’s all that interested in resurfacing anyway.

“Ugh gross,” Alma says, which finally snaps Stede’s attention away from Ed. She rather dramatically wrinkles her nose.

Stede feels himself flush furiously. 

“Are you dad’s Doug?” Louis suddenly asks, looking at Ed.

Ed fortunately knows about Doug, about whom Stede had explained to him several nights before.

“Yeah,” Ed agrees with a nod. “I reckon I might be.”

Louis’ eyes seem to brighten in response.

Stede clears his throat. “Children,” he finally says, “this is Ed, he’s my—”

Stede pauses, they never exactly agreed upon how they’d be referring to one another for the duration of this.

“—Boyfriend,” Ed finishes. He places a gentle hand on Stede’s arm. “I’m your dad's boyfriend.”

Stede's heart does a flip in his chest at the title and perhaps at Ed’s hand which is still resting on his arm, warmth bleeding from Ed’s palm into his body.

“You must be Alma,” Ed says, smiling. “And you must be Louis, your dad’s told me a lot about you two.”

Alma tilts her head and narrows her eyes with skepticism. “Has he?”

Ed nods. “Says you won’t shut up about horses.”

Alma smiles for a split second, seeming pleased. Ed finally removes his hand from Stede’s arm and Stede feels cold at the loss of contact. He wonders for a brief second what Ed’s hand would feel like resting against his bare skin.

Desperate to dispel the thought, Stede lifts up his menu and quickly selects an entree, but forgoes a drink knowing he has to drive his kids back to Mary’s at the end of the night.

He watches Ed scan his menu as well. Ed leans towards him and points at an entry on the menu. “What’s escargot?” he asks.

“Ah, that’s snail,” Stede explains. “The French love their snail.”

“Snail,” Ed repeats. He quirks a brow. “Weird.”

Stede huffs a laugh. He’s never been a huge fan of escargot either.

After the waiter comes to take their orders, Louis pipes up. “Why haven't we heard of you before?”

“Yeah, dad,” Alma says more pointedly. “Why hadn’t you told us about Ed before?”

Stede smiles, this is an easy question, it’s one he and Ed had already prepared to answer. “It’s rather recent,” he explains. “We only started dating a month ago.”

“Your dad didn’t wanna get your hopes up in case things didn’t, you know, work out,” Ed adds.

Stede smiles. “We’d met a few times before, ran into each other around the building and whatnot, but we really hit it off at one of those tacky building get-togethers.”

“One of the barbecues?” Louis asks, eyes bright.

“Yes,” Stede agrees, “much like one of the barbecues I dragged you kids to. It’s not a very exciting story.”

Alma crosses her arms. “I still want to hear it.”

Stede sighs. “Very well then.” He turns to Ed. “Ed, darling, maybe you can tell it? You always make it sound so much more interesting.”

Ed reaches forward and squeezes Stede’s arm again. “Sure thing, love,” he says, and Stede isn’t sure whether the unexpected pet name or Ed’s gentle touch is responsible for the warmth that floods his body. “I saw your dad standing by himself, and we’d had some nice interactions before, so I just walked over to him and we got talking and dunno, just hit it off.”

Stede can see it in his head, he imagines standing by himself on the terrace holding a rather unappetizing burger at one of those building barbecues. He imagines Ed stepping towards him and initiating pleasant conversation. He imagines Ed making him laugh until his sides ache, like he has many times before. Then, briefly letting his eyes flicker down to Ed’s mouth, he imagines Ed kissing him, despite that being something he’s never done before. He can visualize their fake first meeting in perfect clarity.

“That is boring,” Louis complains, drawing Stede out of his thoughts.

Alma reaches over to smack her brother’s shoulder. “Shut up. I think it’s kind of…sweet.”

Stede doesn’t have long to analyze her reaction before their waiter returns to place their main courses in front of them.

Alma cuts a piece of her food and twirls her fork. “So, Ed, what exactly do you like about my dad?”

Stede watches a look of panic flit across Ed’s face. “He’s a rather impressive musician,” he attempts.

“What?” Alma shouts incredulously. “No, he isn’t! He’s terrible!”

Stede feels his cheeks burn in shame, but Alma does have a point. He isn’t at all musically inclined. Mary once described his piano playing as attractive only to cats. 

Ed scratches the side of his head. “You’re right, he isn’t. But he’s kind, a good listener, really cares about you kids.”

“Hmm.” Alma tilts her head and frowns. “My dad’s a good guy, you know?” She fixes Ed with a pointed stare. “He deserves someone good.”

Stede fiddles with a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt. It’s clear why Alma is unimpressed, it’s a rather generic answer, one that’s meant to placate rather than say anything genuine.

He shoots Ed a look that he hopes communicates that they need to do a bit more to successfully sell this. Ed seems to catch on and tosses Stede a wink in response.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” Ed says, raising his hands in surrender. He lets out a deep breath, and even though he’s speaking to Alma, his eyes land on Stede. “Look, I’m a bit of a rough guy, alotta people don’t like me much, or they got these expectations for me, but with your dad…” he laughs. “Your dad smooths my jagged edges, lets me be softer, doesn’t expect me to be anyone but myself, and embraces that version of me, I guess.”

Stede’s traitorous heart does a flip in his chest at Ed’s words, but he has to remember they don’t mean anything, this is all just meant to sell their ruse. 

And by the look on Alma’s face, it’s working . She seems pleased, leaning back in her chair and giving Stede a look of superiority he’s become accustomed to seeing on his daughter’s face. 

The rest of the meal goes smoothly.  Alma drops her scrutinizing questions in favour of devouring the food on her plate and Louis doesn’t ask anything either—though he had very few questions to begin with.

Stede catches Ed’s eyes on him a few times and returns his satisfied smile. They’re succeeding. Even Alma, who was his greater concern, if he’s being honest, remains none the wiser.

But Stede need well remember that things have a tendency to go off the rails when you least expect it. When you think you’re in the clear.

The evening takes a sharp and mortifyingly awkward turn when they’re about to leave the restaurant, with he and Ed going their separate ways, since Stede needs to drop the kids off at Mary’s.

“Uh well,” Stede says, scratching the side of his head. “Goodnight, Ed. Thank you for coming out to meet the kids.”

“G'night,” Ed says, slugging Stede’s shoulder.

“Um,” Alma says as the four of them stand in the parking lot, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Stede blinks a few times. “What might that be?”

Alma places a hand on her hip. “Shouldn’t you kiss each other goodbye?”

“What?” Ed and Stede ask at practically the same time.

Alma shoots them an expectant look. “Uh, aren’t you two dating? You’re supposed to like each other, right?” She snorts. “If I wanted my dad with someone he didn’t really like, then I’d just Parent Trap him and Mom.” 

Shit. Stede quickly turns to Ed, his legs turning to jelly. The panic he’s feeling is mirrored on Ed’s face. They had spent all their time planning their story, and they didn’t spend any time talking about how much physical affection would be necessary to sell their ruse, which, now that he thinks about it, was a rather huge oversight. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Stede’s mind is racing, he has no idea what to do, no idea how they’re going to keep this going. Then suddenly all thoughts rush out of his head when he feels the quick gentle press of Ed’s lips against his cheek, his beard scratching against Stede’s face in a way that is surprising, but not at all unpleasant.

“There,” Ed says, stepping back from Stede. Stede can’t help but stare at him, all of the blood in his body going to where Ed’s mouth had touched his skin. “I kissed your dad.” 

“Not like that!” Alma objects almost immediately.

Ed smiles at Stede and steps in a bit closer, and well, there’s no escaping this. Stede lets his eyes flutter shut as Ed presses a kiss to his lips, closed-mouthed, chaste, and more of a peck than anything else. Stede balls his hands into fists at his side, to stop himself from dragging them through Ed’s hair, to stop himself from tugging Ed closer. It takes a ridiculous amount of restraint.

When Ed steps away and Stede finally opens his eyes again to the surrounding world, he lets out a deep breath. He hadn’t even realized that he’d stopped breathing.

“Oh my god,” Alma groans, still clearly unimpressed. “Don’t you two actually like each other?”

Stede sighs. He loves his kids, he wants more than anything to make them happy, and any underlying attraction he might feel towards Ed is irrelevant. They have to sell this, they have to make it convincing.

He lets out another deep breath and looks at Ed again. Ed quirks an eyebrow in response, and well, this is happening. This time he initiates the kiss, stepping towards Ed and tugging him in. He kisses Ed—and lets Ed kiss him—more firmly and intently. Ed places both his hands in Stede’s hair and tugs at the coiffed strands. Stede doesn’t leave his hands hanging at his sides this time, curling one around Ed’s neck and carding the other through his hair. He’s careful not to let the kiss get too heated though, as they’re still in front of his children.

After what Stede deems to be an appropriate amount of time, he breaks the kiss, brushing his nose against Ed’s as he draws away.

Ed’s eyes are wide and bright and he looks pleasantly surprised, which makes Stede’s heart beat wildly and erratically in his chest. The realization strikes him with full force: he just kissed Ed and he’d quite like to do it again.

No longer able to meet Ed’s eyes, Stede clears his throat and turns to face his daughter. Alma seems pleased this time and she tosses Stede a knowing look.

It’s all just an act, Stede forces himself to remember as he drives his children back to Mary’s. 

A ruse. A fakery. Make believe.

There’s nothing real about their relationship, and there’s certainly nothing real about the way his body responds to Ed either. Nothing real about the way he felt warmed from the inside out from their kiss. Nothing real about the desire to kiss Ed again.

It’s all pretend.

Stede knocks on the door of Ed’s unit, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He knows he’s a bit early, but he can’t help it. He’s a bit excited. They’re having another fake dinner date in the presence of Alma and Louis, and Ed has decided to cook this time to spare the expense of going out to another restaurant. Stede thinks it’s the right call, especially with how heavily the snow is coming down outside.

Ed swings open the door to greet Stede. His hair is gathered in a messy bun, likely to keep it out of his face while he cooks, and he’s wearing a white apron with the words The Secret Ingredient printed in a hot pink cursive. There’s an eggplant on the apron as well and Stede can’t help but feel a few degrees warmer at the obvious innuendo.

A smirk blooms across Ed’s face, but he says nothing.

Stede shakes his head to dispel the thought—and hopefully the redness in his cheeks—and steps into the apartment. “Smells delicious.” 

Ed shuts the door behind him and slides the lock into place. “Thanks, mate.” He pats Stede’s shoulder with friendly affection. “Cooking lobster mac and cheese.”

Stede quirks an eyebrow. “Lobster mac and cheese?”

“Yeah,” Ed says. “Mac and cheese for the kids and I added the lobster for us, since we’re a more sophisticated lot.”

Stede smiles. “That’s quite clever, actually.”

“Yeah,” Ed agrees, nudging Stede’s shoulder with his own. “I know it is.”

He’s rather recently learned that Ed is quite touchy, frequently giving him friendly nudges and squeezes and pats, and while from anyone else he might recoil, something about Ed is different. Something about Ed makes him feel safe. 

Something about Ed’s touch will occasionally set his nerve endings alight, but he’s not willing to parse out what that might mean at this moment.

Stede tries to follow Ed into the kitchen, but Ed turns around to stop him. “Mate, you’re not helping me cook.”

“Why not?” Stede pouts, trembling his lower lip for extra effect. It always works when his children use it on him, so might as well take a page out of their book.

Ed shrugs, clearly unaffected. “You and the kids, you’re my guests.”

Stede quirks a disbelieving eyebrow. Ed isn’t that considerate. He glances out the window where the snow is starting to come down even harder.

“Fine,” Ed relents, pulling Stede’s attention back to him, “it’s ‘cos Alma told me almost burned down the kitchen when you tried to cook for them once.”

Stede scratches the side of his head. “Oh dear, did she?”

Ed pats his back. “Yup, so ’m keeping you out of my kitchen. Safety reasons.” He places a hand on his hip. “Where’r the kids?”

“Ah, Mary’s dropping them off in a bit.”

Stede finds his eyes drawn to Ed’s neck, bare with his hair pulled up. He coughs when he realizes he’s making quite the arse of himself by staring, but before Ed can say anything at all, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

He pulls it out and sees he has a new text from Mary. Palms slightly clammy, he keys in his passcode and opens the messages app.

He reads the text and his heart sinks in his chest like a stone thrown into a pond.

He doesn’t even have to say anything before Ed tosses him a concerned look. “What’s wrong?”

Stede shows Ed his phone. “Mary said with the snow, she doesn’t think it’s safe to drive the kids here, so we won’t be seeing them tonight.” Stede sighs and turns to leave, tucking his phone back in his pocket. “I should get out of your hair.”

Ed shakes his head. “Nah, already cooked all this food,” he says, gesturing towards the steaming pot which smells divine up close. “Y’might as well stay and help me eat it.”

Stede lets out a quiet chuckle. “Alright. I can manage that.”

Ed’s responding smile is the brightest thing he’s seen.

Within 20 minutes, Ed has the lobster mac and cheese plated on opposite ends of a small four person table. He’d also found a bottle of red wine and insisted on pouring them each a glass. Sitting right across from Ed like this, Stede can see flecks of gold in his eyes and the constellation of tiny freckles scattering his nose and cheeks. In close proximity, and the casual comforts of his own apartment, Ed looks more dashing than he ever has before.

Stede takes a bite of the food on the plate before him. It’s exquisite, the cheese isn’t too creamy, the macaroni is the ideal consistency, and the lobster is cooked perfectly. “This is delicious,” he says. “You could be a chef.”

“Could,” Ed agrees. “I could do anything.” He takes a bite of his food. “Oh, fuck that’s good.”

Stede smiles. “I’d come to your restaurant.” He takes another bite of his food, letting the flavour linger on his tongue.

Ed cocks his head. “You might not get in.”

Stede lifts his eyebrows. “You’d save me a seat, wouldn’t you?”

Ed shrugs. “Maybe. If you weren’t being a dick. It’d be called Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill and Other Delicacies and Delights .”

“Bar and Grill?” Stede asks, voice rising in pitch. “But you serve lobster mac and cheese?”

Ed snorts. “What do you think the delicacies and delights are, mate?”

“Touché,” Stede agrees. He raises his glass of wine. “Here, cheers.”

“To what?” Ed asks, lifting his own glass.

Stede pauses to think for a moment, slightly tipping back his head. Finally, the answer comes to him. “Cheers to good food, good company, and a very successful fake relationship.” He chuckles softly. “You’re very good at pretending to be interested in me.”

Stede swears he watches a frown flit across Ed’s face, but it’s gone seconds later, so he chalks it up to his overactive imagination. “Yeah,” Ed agrees, but he sounds a little stiff. “Cheers, mate.” He clinks his glass against Stede’s. 

Stede takes a sip of the wine and finds it pairs divinely with the lobster mac and cheese. Not that he’s surprised. Ed does have exquisite taste.

He sighs. “It’s too bad the snow kept the children from being here, I think they’d have quite enjoyed this.”

“’Spose so,” Ed agrees. “But this is still nice.” Ed momentarily squeezes his hand that’s resting on the table and Stede feels sparks shoot down his spine. “Like being with you.”

He says nothing and a beat of tranquil silence passes between them as they eat their meals and sip their wine. It occurs to him then that sitting in easy silence with Ed is just as simple and natural as conversing with him. Being with Ed , whether they are chattering away or saying nothing at all, is easy.

He likes spending time with Ed, no matter how that time is spent. The realization strikes him, not unlike a bolt of lighting, no matter what he does with Ed he’s happy. Ed makes him happy.

Huh. Who would have thought?

Finally, Stede summons the courage to speak again, feeling his blood rushing in his ears.

“I like spending time with you too, Edward.”

Ed’s art gallery is breathtaking.

High ceilings, big windows that allow plenty of direct sunlight, and walls covered in paintings. There are water colours, acrylics, and stained glass with little placards explaining what they depict and a bit about the artists. Yet, despite the variety of art there’s a cohesive theme: the natural world. Most of the paintings are scenic landscapes, but a few focus on wild animals. 

And with the way Ed’s eyes light up as he surveys the gallery, he is breathtaking too.

This time, Stede makes sure that he and Ed are much better prepared for their fake date with the kids. They agree upon how much physical contact is necessary: they hold hands as they enter the gallery and Ed squeezes his shoulder as he draws his attention to a particular piece of art, a painting of a white leopard.

“What’s so special about this piece?” Stede asks.

“S’actually a painting of a real leopard,” Ed says, pointing to the placard below the painting, “Model even has a name.”

Alma scans the placard. “His name is Ned,” she finally says.

Louis bounces on the balls of his feet as he peers up at Ed with wide eyes. “That’s just Ed’s name with an ‘N.’”

Stede ruffles his son’s hair. “Well sussed!” He then quirks an eyebrow at Ed. “Is that why you like this painting so much, Edward?”

“Nah,” Ed says, shaking his head. “Just like the brushwork.”

Stede tilts his head skeptically. “Hmm.” 

Ed clicks his tongue. “Come on,” he says, turning his attention to Alma and Louis, “Let me show you some of my favorites.” He places a hand on Stede’s arm. “You wanna come, love?”

He knows the pet name is just another thing he and Ed agreed on to make this more convincing, but it still makes his stomach do a somersault. “No thanks, dear heart,” he says.

Ed shrugs his shoulders. “Your loss.” Before he walks off, he leans in to press a quick kiss to Stede’s cheek. His facial hair is scratchy, but Stede thinks he could really get used to being kissed by someone with a beard.

He doesn’t move to study any of the other paintings in detail and instead continues to take in the surrounding space. There are shelves filled with paperweights and ceramics and a jewelry cabinet by the cashier, who appears to be a young person with long dark hair wearing all tan and a rather stylish hat. Stede steps over towards the jewelry stand and looks at the items on display. Everything is beautiful and surprisingly affordable. He spots a few necklaces he thinks Alma might like, but then his eyes catch a purple pendant wrapped in a silver spiral made of wire. It would look rather perfect on Ed.

They never explicitly discussed the idea of gifts, but they are pretending to be in a very happy relationship, so Stede supposes spending twenty dollars on a necklace can’t hurt.

He waves his hand to get the attention of the person running the cash register and notices they have a name tag that reads Jim and a they/them pronoun pin. “These are really lovely pieces,” Stede says, “where did the gallery get them?”

“Ed picked them out,” Jim answers, “dunno where he gets most of his picks.”

Stede smiles. “Ed does have quite fine taste.”

Jim rolls their eyes. “So hombrecito , you gonna buy something or what?”

Stede rubs the back of his neck. “Ah yes,” he says, kneeling down. He points to the purple pendant. “I’ll take that one, please.”

Jim slides open the glass panel and pulls out the pendant. It glints in the natural sunlight, each facet a unique shade of purple. They grab a wad of tissue paper to wrap it and box the necklace up.

Stede turns his eyes towards Ed who is showing a painting to his kids. He’s too far away to hear what Ed says, but whatever it is makes Alma and Louis laugh. A lot. They’re both bent over clutching their stomachs in hysterics and when they do stop laughing, Stede watches his son and daughter beam up at Ed.

He resists the urge to let out a happy little sigh. He’s never met someone who fits so effortlessly into the lives of his children.

“You know,” Jim says, sliding Stede the box containing the necklace. “Ed’s been through some tough shit, but he’s a real good boss.”

Stede finally pulls his eyes off Ed and his children. “What do you mean?” he asks, taking the box containing the pendant and tucking it into the breast pocket of his shirt.

“Not my place to say,” Jim says, as they press a few buttons on the cash register. “If you want to know, you’ll have to ask him.”

Stede pulls out his wallet, riffles through his bills and coins and places the appropriate amount down on the counter. “Why bring it up then?”

Jim shrugs, sliding the money towards themself. “I don’t want him to get hurt,” they say. They give Stede a menacing glare. “He’s a good boss and I guess kinda I care about him, comprende ?”

Stede gulps, only then noticing the very sharp looking piece of metal sticking out of Jim’s pocket. “Understood,” he says, his voice coming out a little strangled. He has no doubt that if he ever hurt Ed, this employee would not hesitate to gut him. 

Which is all the more reason it’s for the best that what he has with Ed isn’t real.

But then he glances over and Ed and his children again, they’ve moved on to a different painting and Ed is smiling at Alma and Louis eyes crinkling with mirth. Alma has her arms crossed over her chest, but Stede knows his daughter well enough to identify that it’s a pretense, and Louis continues to be bouncing on the balls of his feet. Then Ed says something that sends his children into hysterics yet again.

Stede can’t help it, this time the happy little sigh slipping out of him, the kind of sound made by the protagonist of a romance novel when they realize, well…

When they have some sort of a romantic epiphany.

And, oh , since his children are the whole reason he’s even in this situation, it makes so much sense that watching Ed make his children laugh—watching Ed make his children happy—is what triggers it.

It’s astonishing it took him so long, really.

He has feelings for Ed, real feelings . He wants to be with him in a way that is not fake at all. The realization is like a flame roaring to life. 

But this realization is immediately accompanied by another, a sadder, harsher truth that scoops his heart straight out of his chest cavity.

There’s no way Ed feels the same way about him.

Because Ed is amazing and kind and caring. He’s funny, he’s sweet, he’s charming. He’s good with Stede’s kids, he’s a good neighbour, he’s a good boss, an even better friend. He is like a well constructed novel filled with depth and meaning and beautiful prose.

While Stede is nothing but a cowardly, pathetic mess of a man. He is unloveable and idiotic and worthless. He is a book riddled with plot holes and mixed metaphors that has only a bitter, unsatisfying conclusion.

Ed could never reciprocate the way Stede feels about him, so he smothers that flame with a damp cloth and tucks his epiphany into some dark unreachable place.

He has Ed’s friendship and that’s enough.

That will have to be enough.

Stede can tell Ed is in a mood today.

Their fake relationship means Stede has gotten to know Ed quite well over the past few weeks, and he can tell that Ed is not his normal self.

When Stede runs into him in the foyer there’s a far-away look in his eyes, his shoulders are slightly hunched, and his lips are drooped.

Stede can’t help but wonder if Ed’s mood is in any way related to what that employee from his gallery—Jim—mentioned to him a few days before. Something about a troubled past.

He wants to know what is bothering Ed, both to sate own curiosity, but also because he wants to be there for Ed—as a friend. He thinks—he hopes—they’ve been through enough together to be considered friends at this point. And well, whatever other feelings he’s uncovered are irrelevant. Perhaps that is why Stede ends up standing at Ed’s door that evening.

Ed opens the door before Stede even raises his fist to knock. He’s wearing the amethyst necklace wrapped in silver spiral wiring, the one Stede gave him after they left his gallery. He’s been wearing it every single time Stede has seen him in the past few days, but Stede doesn't have the time to dissect what that might mean.

"Hey,” Stede says, feeling slightly breathless. “I was just coming over to check in on you. Are you, ah, doing alright?”

“’M fine,” Ed says, but his eyes still have that faraway look, like he isn’t all the way there.

Drat. He’s going to need to be more direct.

Stede lets out a deep breath. “Look while we were out the other day at your gallery, one of your employees said you’ve been through a lot in your life, and since we’re…” he pauses. “Since, ah, I think we’re friends, I’m here for you. If you… ever want to talk, that is.”

Ed reaches forward and squeezes his shoulder, eyes focusing on Stede. “Thanks, man. Appreciate that.”

“Of course,” Stede says with a nod, ignoring the way his heart rate spikes at Ed’s touch. “Whenever you need me.”

Ed sucks in his lower lip. “Could definitely do with talking to someone.”

Stede tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Ah… right now?”

“Yeah,” Ed says. He tilts his head. “Would that work or…?”

“No, no! Right now would be… lovely.”

Ed snorts. “Lovely,” he repeats.

Stede feels his face heat up and mentally slaps himself over his choice of words.

Ed steps out of the doorway and allows Stede to enter his unit, shutting the door behind him. Since they started their arrangement, Stede really is over at Ed’s quite often. It’s almost become his second home.

Or maybe it’s not the place itself, but the person he’s with.

Stede shakes his head to dispel the thought and toes off his shoes. Ed’s already taken a seat on his couch and pats the spot next to him, a silent invitation.

Stede steps over to the couch and sits down, curling his legs under him.

When they’re both reasonably comfortable, Ed speaks. “Do y’ever worry that you’re…” he lets out a frustrated huff and scrubs a hand down his face. “Shitfuck, this is gonna sound stupid.”

“It won’t,” Stede reassures him.

 Ed lets out a deep breath. “I dunno, not enough?”

The raw, open, vulnerability in his voice makes Stede freeze. He has felt that way, more times than he could possibly count. Feeling inadequate and insufficient is something he is all too familiar with and apparently, yet another similarity he and Ed share. Another thing that ties them together. But he can’t say any of that. “I—I—”

Ed tucks his knees under his chin and wraps his arms around his legs. “Well, do you?”

Stede lets out a self deprecating laugh. “All the time.” He fixes Ed with a look of concern. “But why, ah, do you feel that way right now?”

Ed blows out a deep breath. “Had a dream about…” He swallows roughly. “My dad.”

Stede hopes the expression on his face conveys his sympathy. “Ah. I see.”

“He was a real dick,” Ed admits. “Goddawful to me and my ma.”

Stede shoots him a sympathetic look. “What did he do?” He scratches the side of his head. “If you don’t mind sharing, that is.”

Ed shakes his head and rests one of his hands on the couch. “It’s hard to talk about. Don’t like to think about it. But—”

“But?” Stede repeats, gently prompting him.

“Dunno, guess the way it all made me feel is still there.”

Stede places a hand atop one of Ed’s. “Pain doesn’t just go away, even if the people who cause it are gone. It lives on inside of us, and you shouldn’t feel bad for feeling it.” He lets out a wry chuckle. “Believe me, I would know.”

Ed sighs. “’M just so fucking tired of feeling broken. Hated my dad, don’t wanna give him anymore fucking control over my fucking life, but I don’t know how to stop.”

For a moment, Stede doesn’t quite know what to say, especially because Ed’s words are a feeling he is all too familiar with. They strike a chord in his very soul, so he admits just that. “If it makes you feel any better, my father was a real arsehole too.”

Ed scoffs. “How so?”

Stede sighs. “I was never enough of a man for him.”

Ed blinks a few times. “What?”

“He loved to hunt. Used to think that brutalizing the animals in front of me would make me toughen up.” 

Ed’s eyes widen with shock. “That’s fucked.”

“Quite fucked,” Stede agrees. “And I’m sure the fact that I’m gay has him rolling over in his grave.”

Ed huffs a quiet laugh. “Good, then. Fuck ‘im.” 

“I was always just a pathetic coward in his eyes,” Stede admits. “So I understand not feeling like you’re enough, because I have felt that way my entire life.”

Ed lets out a deep breath. “Shit, man.”

“Yeah,” Stede agrees, realizing he’s never actually admitted that to anyone before. Yet somehow he’s unsurprised that he felt comfortable enough to admit it to Ed. “Shit indeed.”

“’S ridiculous you feel that way ‘cos you’re fucking fantastic. And original and so full of life.”

Stede snorts and rolls his eyes. “No, I’m not.”

“You fuckin’ are,” Ed insists.

Stede lets out a whine in protest. “I’m a mess of a man, Edward. And just like my father always said, a pathetic coward.”

“Shut up,” Ed says, elbowing him. “No, you aren’t.”

“Oh, but I am,” Stede says. “For the first time in my life I know exactly what I want, and I’m still running away from it.”

Ed quirks an eyebrow, turning over the hand that remains under Stede’s, pressing their palms together. “And what do you want?”

One word reverberates through Stede’s head: You .

So much for keeping his feelings under lock and key.

Realizing how he felt about Ed had been like opening up Pandora’s Jar. For better or worse, what he felt was known to him and it could not be tucked back away. 

If Stede were a braver man, he’d answer Ed honestly. If he were a braver man, he’d tell Ed exactly how much he’s come to mean to him.

If he were a braver man, he’d grab the collar of Ed’s shirt and tug him into a kiss. Something real and earnest and tender that would convey everything words cannot.

But Stede has never been brave.

He lets out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Ed’s eyes darken. “What—dickfuck—of course it does!” He slides his hand out from under Stede’s and reaches forward to grip his shoulders. “Who told you that?”

“Edward.”

“Who fucking told you that?” he growls.

Stede shakes his head. He doesn’t know what to say—can’t say anything, so he turns his eyes to the couch.

Suddenly, one of Ed’s hands is under his chin, tilting Stede’s head up so he meets his eyes. “What you want fucking matters, man,” he says with steely resolve.

Stede feels tears beginning to build in his eyes. No one has been this kind to him, no one has ever cared to. No one has ever been so adamant that his feelings matter. That he matters. 

He sniffles and, oh god , now he’s making a fool of himself crying in front of Ed. And it’s made even worse when he remembers that the whole point of him coming here was to help Ed talk through his problems, not make the conversation all about himself .

He moves to bury his head in his hands, then suddenly Ed is prying his hands away from his face. “Hey,” he says quietly. “S’okay.”

“It’s not,” Stede says, shaking his head. “Fuck.”

Goddamnit. He doesn’t even know why he’s crying.

Ed uses his thumb to wipe a tear that has begun to trail down Stede’s cheek. His hand is rough and calloused against Stede’s skin and Stede can’t help but lean in closer to Ed’s touch, nuzzling his cheek into Ed’s palm. The desire to press himself even closer to Ed is involuntary, whether the force of gravity or magnetism or something else, Stede does not know. All he knows is he wants to be as close to Ed as possible.

Ed moves his hand away from Stede’s cheek and Stede lets out a small sound in disappointment. But his disappointment doesn’t last long, for seconds later Ed is leaning forward and pressing his lips to Stede’s forehead in a kiss as soft and gentle as a butterfly’s wing.

Stede only leans in closer to Ed, tracing a pattern on his shoulder, and cocooned in the warm, safe bubble of Ed’s touch, he feels like he can breathe more easily than ever.

He and Ed’s first fake date away from the kids is a dinner party hosted by Mary and Doug. 

Or it was meant to be a dinner party, but all the other invited couples can’t make it, so it ends up just being a double date.

He’s heard from Alma and Louis how happy Mary is in her new relationship, but there is something different about seeing it with his own two eyes.

The way she smiles at Doug, the way she looks at him, the way they communicate without the need for words—his ex-wife is nothing short of radiant. Stede had been an anchor, tethering her to the ocean floor, weighing her down, but with Doug, Mary finally seems like she is floating. Like she is rising towards the surface of the sea, finally reaching her fullest and truest potential.

Stede could not be happier for her.

He means to tell Mary but, somehow, while he’s helping her clean up from dinner, she beats him to it.

“Stede?”

Stede doesn’t turn his attention away from the dish he’s drying. “Hmm?”

“I’m really happy for you.”

Stede freezes, nearly dropping the serving dish he’s been painstakingly drying with a dish cloth. He blinks a few times. “You are?”

“Yeah.” Mary grins wide and bright. “The kids have been going on and on about how happy you and Ed seem together, and how much they like him, but it’s nice to see it for myself.”

“Huh,” Stede says, opening the cupboard and placing the serving dish where it belongs. He turns back to face her. “Can I ask you something?”

Mary hands him the wine glasses she’s just washed and smiles kindly. “Sure.”

Stede sighs. “How did you know… that you were in love with Doug?”

Mary tilts her head, putting careful thought and consideration into his question. “I just knew, I guess.”

Stede huffs out a quiet laugh.

“I don’t know,” Mary admits. “I guess… being with just him feels so easy. It’s almost like breathing.” Her smile stretches to her eyes as she speaks and happiness looks good on her, Stede decides. “He understands all my quirks, finds them charming even, and he exposes me to new ideas. He makes me laugh… a lot, and we just pass the time so well. All of those things, that’s how I could tell it was love.” She squeezes Stede’s shoulder with friendly affection. “I can tell you and Ed feel the same way about each other.”

Stede has to stop himself from nearly dropping the glasses, the blood in his veins turning to ice. His voice comes out quiet and small. “We do?”

Mary nods, continuing to smile, thankfully not noticing that Stede praised his reply as a question. “I’ve never seen anyone look at someone the way Ed looks at you.”

Stede places the glasses on the appropriate shelf, hands shaking as his heart pounds in his chest. He turns to look at Mary once more. “And, ah, how exactly does Ed look at me?”

Mary laughs. “Very funny.” But then she looks at Stede more fully, taking a second to study his facial expression, and the smile slips right off her face. “Oh my god, you’re being serious.”

Stede nods. “Afraid so.”

Mary squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a sigh. “Uh, okay,” she finally says when she opens her eyes. She blows out a deep breath. “He looks at you like you’re something he never expected he could have.”

Stede scratches the side of his head. “What do you mean?”

“Like you’re too good to be true,” Mary continues, “Like he can’t quite believe you’re real and yet… there you are.”

Stede lets out a happy little sigh and the words tumble out without a second thought. “Here I am. Looking at him that exact same way.”

Stede only has seconds to take in Mary’s beaming smile before the epiphany nearly bowls him over.

He loves Ed. 

He’s in love with Ed. 

He knew he had feelings for Ed, knew he was attracted to him, knew he wanted to kiss him. Thought Ed was the most delightful person he’d ever met and wanted to spend every second by his side. Wanted more than anything for this arrangement between them to be something real rather than a part they were both playing.

But he can finally call the bright, glorious feeling in his chest threatening to bubble out whenever he sees Ed, whenever he thinks about Ed, what it truly is: love.

Deep, irrevocable, wondrous, crazy, stupid love.

And if Mary’s words are true, then Ed might just love him back.

It is that—the slight possibility that Ed may be in this just as deeply as he is—is what gives Stede a momentary boost of confidence.

He has to tell him.

Even if he doesn’t feel the same way—even if he doesn’t reciprocate his feelings—he has to tell him. Because Stede does not want to keep secrets from Ed, no matter what they are to each other and no matter how increasingly complex their relationship may be. He cannot keep a secret like this.

Ed deserves to know.

Finally, Stede speaks to Mary once more. “Thank you.”

Mary nods. “Of course.”

“I’m really happy for you too,” Stede says. “You and Doug.” A laugh bubbles out of him. “I meant to tell you before, but you, ah, kinda beat me to it.”

Mary grins again and wraps him in a friendly hug, and Stede is delighted that they’ve both managed to find who they belong with.

Her with Doug, and him with Ed. His Ed. 

He intends to tell Ed the next time he sees him.

Except he doesn’t tell Ed.

He doesn’t tell Ed after another outing with the kids where they pretend to be a couple, he doesn’t tell Ed when they have dinner together as friends, he doesn’t tell Ed when they have drinks together—when he’s not sure if the warmth he feels is a result of the alcohol or Ed’s proximity.

He means to, really he does—keeping his feelings a secret is starting to weigh on him—but whenever Stede opens his mouth with the intention of telling Ed how he feels the words die on his tongue and he finds himself unable to say anything at all.

So he doesn’t tell Ed. 

Or, more accurately, he doesn’t tell Ed on purpose .

He does, however, tell Ed by accident.

They’re sitting on Stede’s couch, sides pressed together, alternating between laughing until their chests ache and sitting in a calm, easy silence when Ed speaks. “Y’know what I realized?”

Stede turns to face Ed more fully. “Hmm?”

Ed scratches his bearded cheek. “We sorta never set an end date for this.”

“This?” Stede repeats, but sounds a bit like a squeak. He feels his heart rate speed up, he thinks he might know what Ed is referring to.

“Yeah,” Ed says. “This.” He gestures between them. “Us.”

Because they’re an us now. But not in a real sense, no matter how much Stede wishes it was so. “Ah,” he finally manages.

“Can’t do this forever,” Ed says, sadness lacing his tone. “Has to end eventually.”

Impulse control has always been something Stede has lacked, so the words spill out without a second thought.

“I don’t want to.”

Ed blinks at him a few times. “What?” 

Well, that wasn’t the way he was hoping the confession would come out, but it’s out there and there’s no taking back the words now, so he may as well own it.

Stede takes a deep breath in effort to steels his nerves. “I don’t want to,” he repeats, more confident this time.

“Mate,” Ed says, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Still don’t understand what you mean.”

“I don’t want to stop this,” Stede says, hoping he’s being more clear. “Us.”

Ed’s mouth falls open. “W—What—?” He swallows. “What do you mean?” 

“These past few months,” Stede starts, “spending time with you, being with you, have been some of the best of my life. And I’d… quite like to continue, if you’re amenable.”

Ed barks out a laugh. “If I’m amenable?” he repeats. “Fuck does that mean?”

Stede lets out a frustrated huff. He’s going to need to be more direct, more honest. Ed deserves that from him. “Well, you see, I don’t want to continue our fake relationship. Not exactly.”

Ed frowns, clearly still confused. “But you just said you didn’t want to stop?”

“Exactly. I don’t.” Stede says. Another deep breath. “I don’t want to continue our fake relationship because—”

“Because?” Ed prompts. His gaze is weighted, tethering him down, but Stede could not be more grateful, as it is Ed who is keeping him steady, who is keeping him from spinning out of control. He is a magnetic field directing the needle of Stede’s compass towards true north. Ed is his true north.

His heart hammers away in his chest, rapid and with so much force, Stede fears it may burst from his rib cage.

Stede reaches to take one of Ed’s hands, hoping a point of contact between them will help ground him further. Like a lightning rod, directing all of his energy into the earth. 

“Because I want to be with you for real,” he finally says. “Because I’m in love with you, Edward Teach.”

Ed blinks at him a few times in shock, but doesn’t let go of his hand. “Shit! You are?”

“I am.” Stede nods vigorously. “In fact, I think you may be the love of my life.”

Ed’s mouth falls open in shock. “Fuck,” he finally manages.

Stede feels his stomach sink with dread and begins to tug away his hand. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way!” Stede blurts out in hasty reassurance, though he’s not quite sure who he’s trying to comfort, Ed or himself. “Really, Ed, it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way about me, I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t and—”

The rest of the words are lost on Stede’s tongue as Ed cuts him off with a kiss.

Stede makes a surprised noise high in his throat as Ed’s hands slide up his sides, curve around his shoulders, make their way into his hair. Ed’s mouth on his is warm and soft and pliant and it is everything he has ever wanted. Stede is eager in his reciprocation, tilting his head so their mouths meet at a better angle, dragging his hands through Ed’s hair, pressing in as close as he possibly can despite knowing that they will never be close enough.

This is so much better than those times they kissed in front of Alma and Louis to sell their relationship, because it’s real .

Ed smells like salt and the ocean and fine leather and when Stede opens his mouth to him and is greeted with Ed’s tongue, he finds he tastes like the finest brandy, sharp, strong, fruity, and subtly sweet. 

If the first time he kissed a man was a revelation, then kissing Ed is like transcending.

Their kisses are like a flame in that they consume and consume and consume oxygen, and so eventually Stede must pull back to breathe.

He brushes his nose against Ed’s as he pulls away, and Ed doesn’t let him go far, sliding one of the hands that was previously buried in his hair around the curve of his shoulder and down his arm so he can hold Stede’s hand.

Ed huffs out a quiet laugh and they are so close Stede can feel Ed’s warmth breath on his lips. His voice comes out slightly breathless. “If I don’t feel the same way?”

Stede opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I mean, I couldn’t expect you to.”

Ed laughs, bright and carefree, and the sound makes the blood in Stede’s veins turn into liquid gold. “Stede, mate, I’m fucking crazy about you.”

“You are?” It’s stupid question, especially with the way Ed just kissed him, but Stede can’t help but ask. The idea that someone as amazing and wonderful as Ed could love him, love him , is mind blowing beyond words.

Ed responds to his question by leaning in for another kiss, not a passionate one by any means, but one that firmly conveys fierce and earnest intent. He pulls back after a few seconds. “Yeah, reckon you may be the love of my life as well.”

“I am?” Stede breathes, because even with Ed’s brown eyes on him which are filled with nothing but saccharine, syrupy fondness and adoration, Stede cannot wrap his mind around it. Cannot wrap his mind around the idea that he is enough for someone as brilliant and wonderful and beautiful as Ed to love.

Ed loves him! Isn’t that something?

Ed laughs again, the sound lingering in the air like droplets of water after a rainstorm. He cups Stede’s face in his hands. “Stedeeeee,” he whines, bumping their noses together. “I suggested you be my fake boyfriend, how much more obvious could I fucking get?”

“Oh,” Stede breathes. When Ed puts it like that, it all makes perfect sense. Ed’s smile stretches even wider. 

“Oh,” Stede repeats, knowing the smile on his face is comically large, but he can’t help it; he's that happy. He chuckles. “I’ve been quite the idiot haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” Ed agrees, but his tone is endlessly fond. “You have.”

Stede doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to have misunderstood something in his entire life.

“Was never faking being interested in you,” Ed admits, his thumb stroking Stede’s jawline as his palm continues to cup his cheek. He draws Stede into another kiss, it’s messy and their teeth clink together since they’re more smiling and laughing against each other’s mouths as opposed to actually kissing. They’ll have plenty more time to actually kiss, right now Stede is just deliriously happy.

Ed loves him. Ed loves him. 

Ed loves him and he loves Ed and nothing has ever been so sweet.

Realizing his feelings for Ed had indeed been opening up Pandora’s Jar, but instead of being one of the evils that plagued the world, instead of being a cause for pain and suffering, they were something else. They were hope.

Stede pulls away from the kiss and promptly buries his head in the crook of Ed’s neck and Ed wraps an arm around his waist tugging him even closer.

He feels Ed’s lips gently press a kiss to the top of his head and nuzzles his nose in deeper, chasing Ed’s warmth the way a sunflower does the light.

Being with Ed is as easy as breathing, but simultaneously makes breathing easier than ever.

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

Ed turns away from the bubbling pot on the stove to face Stede and snorts. “Mate, you’re the one who doesn’t like lying to your kids.”

Stede runs a hand through his hair. “Is it really lying though?” he asks. “I mean, we are together now.”

Ed clicks his tongue. “Still counts as lying, I reckon.”

Stede lets out a sigh, but deep down he knows Ed is right. Alma and Louis need to know the truth. He takes a deep breath and nods. “Alright. I can do this.”

Ed switches off the stove and reaches for his hand. “ We can do this.”

Stede squeezes his hand and leans in to press a grateful kiss to his lips. It’s chaste and quick, and Ed’s beard scratches against his face, but he hopes it’s enough to convey the depth of his appreciation.

Ed squeezes his hand back, and finally lets go. He scoops some of the food on the stove into a serving dish and steps out of the kitchen into the dining room, Stede following closely behind.

Alma and Louis are both sitting at the table, empty bowls before them. “Finally,” Louis says when Ed places the serving dish in the centre of the table.

Alma leans forward in her seat, likely to serve herself when Ed clears his throat. Both Alma and Louis snap their heads in his direction. “Your dad and I have something to tell ya,” Ed says.

“Okay?” Alma asks, clearly a little irritated that this is getting in the way of eating dinner.

“Stede?” Ed prompts, turning to face him.

Well, here it is, the moment of truth. Stede reaches forward and takes Ed’s hand, gently linking their fingers. 

He blows out a deep breath. “Ed and I are together.” Something about saying the words out loud is so freeing and he can’t help but beam.

His son looks up at him, confused. “Weren’t you already together?”

“No,” Stede admits. “That wasn’t, ah, exactly real.” He squeezes Ed’s hand. “This is.”

Louis looks confused as ever, and for a brief moment, silence hangs between them, until Alma speaks. “I knew it!”

Ed uses his free hand to scratch the side of his head. “Knew what?”

Alma doesn’t dignify that with a response. She smirks, crossing her arms.

“Alma,” Stede says gently. “You knew what, darling?”

“That you two were faking it,” she says proudly.

Stede’s mouth falls open like a fish on a hook and he blinks rapidly. “You knew?”

He really shouldn’t be surprised, he’s always known Alma is ridiculously clever.

“Duh! Why do you think I was pushing you two so hard?” She smirks again. “It’s like the plot of so many rom-coms. God, have either of you ever seen a movie?”

Stede feels warmth pool in his cheeks and is positively sure his entire face is flushed. He thinks back to the dinner where they first faked their relationship in front of the kids and, huh , a lot of the developments and he and Ed’s relationship really were initiated by his daughter, weren’t they?

God, she was even the first person who made them kiss , that’s humiliating. Stede feels even warmer .

Not willing to let go of Ed’s hand, Stede uses his free hand to tug at the collar of his shirt. “Er, did your mother know?”

“I think she had her suspicions,” Alma informs him smugly. “But I didn’t tell her directly.”

Well, that might explain some of what happened in the aftermath of the dinner party—turned double date—when he realized he needed to tell Ed how he felt.

“So wait,” Stede starts, “did anyone actually believe us?”

Ed shrugs. “Eh. We were pretty bad at faking it, love.”

The pet name makes Stede’s heart skip a beat, but this time it’s because he knows Ed means it. Ed loves him. God, he still can’t quite fathom it!

“Or rather,” Ed continues, “you were.”

Well, that’s not fair, they were in this together! Stede juts out his lower lip in a pout. “You were faking it too!”

Ed shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “Nah, I wasn’t.”

“You were, Edward,” Stede insists.

Ed smiles, and it’s not special at all, but it still takes Stede’s breath away. He lifts their joint hands to his mouth and presses a kiss to Stede’s knuckles. “How could I have been fakin’ it when my feelings for you were real the entire time?”

Stede feels his breath catch. “You may have a point.”

“Course I do,” Ed says as he bumps his shoulder with Stede’s.

“Can we eat now?” Louis pipes up, clearly not paying any attention to the conversation going on around him.

“Ah, yeah,” Stede says, taking his seat at the table. “Sorry.”

He spoons some of the food from the centre dish into his son’s bowl and offers to do the same for his daughter, but Alma is adamant about serving herself. 

Stede lets Ed take what he wants next and then finally serves himself.

As they begin to eat their dinners, Stede looks up to catch Ed’s smile.

There’s something soft, almost secretive about it. Like it’s the start to something they’re going to build together. 

Stede doesn’t think there’s anyone else in the world he’d rather build something with than Ed, and as Ed reaches across the table to hold Stede’s hand as they eat, chatting casually with his children, Stede knows with absolute certainty that Ed feels the same way about him.