Work Text:
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Content warning: canon-typical Badminton verbal abuse, including the brief disparagement of former convicts. Stede [and the author] do not agree with these sentiments.
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Another miserable Monday, thought Stede to himself as he grabbed his lunch bag from under his desk. At least it’s getting warm enough to eat outside again. The morning had dragged through meeting after meeting, and of course Nigel couldn’t let their eleven-thirty end without one last jab about the divorce. Stede was truly glad that Mary was happy, but the circumstances leading to it (running into Mary and Doug on a romantic date while Stede was out for drinks with a few folks from the firm) still twinged a bit.
As he was getting his coat, Lucius piped up from his desk nearby. “Not another PB&J?” he asked witheringly.
Stede sighed. “It’s all I know how to make, you know that. I’ve tried ham and cheese; they just get all soggy and the fillings slide out and I end up a mess. And the nearest café is five blocks away! I’d rather enjoy my lunch time than work up a sweat.”
Lucius rolled his eyes. “Well, good thing there’s no need for all of that, then. A new food truck has popped up next to the courtyard downstairs; Pete and I tried it earlier, it’s actually really good.”
Stede hesitated. Something besides the plain sandwich he’d brought did sound rather appealing.
Sure enough, when Stede rode the elevator down and exited the lobby, the food truck was parked at the curb next to the courtyard where he usually ate. The truck itself was painted a vibrant royal purple, while a gold script named it “Blackbeard’s Grill”, followed by a mouthwatering image of a decadent toastie cut diagonally, the edges oozing with cheese.
As Stede approached the window, a rather gorgeous gentleman with both his hair and beard encased in hairnets snapped to attention and leaned forward to ask, “What can I get you, mate?”
Stede found his eyes widening as he looked over the menu selection. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly choose! Could I bother you to pick for me?”
The man seemed to assess him for a moment, then winked. “Coming right up,” he said with a click of his tongue.
Stede was fascinated watching him move around the truck’s tiny kitchen, asking questions about the setup and process as he did. The man finished his sandwich and as Stede paid, he said, “Thank you so much,… oh, pardon me, I forgot to ask your name!”
The bearded man seemed taken aback, but slowly pulled off his food service glove and reached out a hand. “I’m Ed,” he offered.
“Stede.” Their handshake seemed to linger, but maybe that was only in Stede’s imagination. He pulled away to grab a few napkins.
“Enjoy the Parm and a Leg,” said Ed. “The marinara is house-made.”
As Stede settled in on his usual bench in the courtyard, he took his first bite and had to stop himself from moaning out loud. The dark meat chicken filet was breaded to crispy perfection, the sharp bite of the arugula and the mellow gooeyness of the mozzarella balanced each other beautifully, and the lovely marinara Ed had mentioned offered a delightful tang without overpowering the buttery ciabatta roll. He looked up to find Ed watching him and offered an enthusiastic thumbs up, receiving a wide grin in return. No more peanut butter sandwiches for me, he thought with satisfaction.
---
Which was why it was so disappointing to come down the next day sans lunch bag and find the food truck nowhere in sight. He pouted as he made his way back into the building, practically seethed in the elevator, and was working his way to a righteous fury as he stomped back to his desk and began to rummage around for the protein bar he thought he had stashed in a drawer somewhere.
“What’s gotten into you?” asked Lucius, clearly worried but also willfully avoiding the danger zone.
Stede sighed and explained the food truck’s no-show and his lack of lunch, which made Lucius cluck with sympathy and dig into his own snack stash. When he rolled his desk chair back over, he handed Stede some trail mix and a bag of crisps, then pointedly set a business card on top. “What’s this?” asked Stede, fumbling the items into his lap to reach for the card.
“It’s the business card from Blackbeard’s. I snagged it yesterday because the food was really good and I wanted to see where they are on the weekends. Look, see—they’re over by the hospital today, then the museum on Wednesday, and…” As Lucius continued, another question occurred to Stede.
“But that’s every day of the week! When is Ed’s day off?”
“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Lucius commented, mostly under his breath. “Stede, babe,” he continued at normal volume, “food trucks are startups, yeah? They’re cheaper to get into than storefronts, require smaller business loans. He might have someone helping with ordering or prep, but if *Ed*,” [here he placed quite the emphasis on Ed’s name, which Stede didn’t understand the purpose of], “isn’t working that glorious ass of his every day, he’d probably struggle to break even.”
Stede frowned disapprovingly, in equal amounts at Lucius’ …overfamiliarity as at the idea that Ed had to work so hard. “So he’ll—I mean the truck—will be back next Monday?”
Lucius nodded and patted his knee before scooting his chair back to his own desk, and Stede was mollified enough to start in on his somewhat untraditional lunch.
“Hey, Stede?” Lucius called. “Which sandwich did you choose?”
“I didn’t,” Stede answered. “I asked Ed to choose for me. I think he said it was called Parm and a Leg?”
“Interesting,” Lucius muttered to himself, but Stede barely heard him.
He was already looking forward to next Monday.
---
The truck was indeed back the next week. The same Monday morning meetings seemed less interminable now that Stede could daydream about what sandwich he might try today. Maybe he’d leave it up to Ed again? That had certainly worked out well last time.
When Stede got downstairs, it seemed that word had already started to spread. There was even a small line, though it moved relatively quickly and Stede was soon at the front. “Good afternoon, Ed,” he greeted.
“Hey, Stede! What’ll it be?” Ed said with a smile.
Stede felt his face light up. “You remember me?”
“’Course I remember you! Chicken parm again?”
“Oh, let’s try something new.” But Stede’s brain stalled out there as Ed took the brief break to drink some water. “Er, perhaps you might choose again for me, if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” promised Ed.
In fact, as the line had dwindled to nothing, Ed hopped out of the truck without his food safety paraphernalia and joined Stede on his usual bench to eat his own meal. He immediately asked for Stede’s feedback on today’s selection (an absolutely delectable treat Ed called the Shroom Raider), and from there the conversation wove to where Ed had learned to cook (a vocational training program for individuals with prison records; he’d been working his way up in the industry from a prep cook nearly two decades ago to recently getting the loan for his own venture) and why Stede couldn’t (his early attempts as a child had been roundly criticized and Mary hadn’t seemed to care if he learned).
When Ed’s phone went off with a series of texts, they were both startled to realize that it was after 2 PM. Ed hurried back to the truck to begin the cleaning and breakdown/storage, while Stede tossed him a quick wave before rushing back to the office. How nice to make a new friend!
---
And thus began the new routine. Stede would take a later lunch in hopes of Ed having the time to eat with him, Ed would wow him with some new creation, and they’d chat happily for as long as they could get away with. Stede himself certainly wasn’t eager to go back to the drudgery that was his job (especially not now that he had to deal with Lucius’ needling about his friendship with Ed), but he’d also confessed to the chef that he had no idea what he’d do with his time if he were to quit. Ed admitted in return that he hoped to own a restaurant one day—transforming his dream into Blackbeard’s Bar & Grill—but that he feared a bank would never loan him that much money.
Each time Stede returned to the office with the glow of good company around him, Lucius would try to pull him into pointed conversations about his “friend” (emphasis entirely Lucius). Stede avoided him and deflected the best he could. He didn’t want to analyze the one bit of true comfort he’d found in his dull, grey life. The children were always a joy, but he’d always felt awkward with them. In fact, he wondered if he’d ever had this kind of ease with another person.
But as week after week passed (Pig in a Poke, Peaches and Cream, The Fig Easy, What the Kale, the Fresh Prince of Bel-Pear), Stede found himself more and more invested in spending time with Ed and more and more disappointed that they only had a couple of hours together a week at best. The summer had been amazing, but the approaching fall weather would make it too chilly to eat outside with Ed, and the thought of returning to his desk each day, even with Ed’s delicious cooking in hand, was making him feel particularly glum.
He decided to make his move after Ed was out sick two Mondays in a row; the first week a delightful fellow named Fang had subbed in for Ed (he refused to make anything not on the approved menu, but his recommendation of a Classic Cheese with the marinara dipping sauce was good), and the following week it was a rather cranky man named Iggy (who listened about how Ed always surprised Stede instead of forcing him to order and proceeded to make Stede a sandwich so spicy he was blowing his nose through all of his afternoon meetings).
Lucius had confirmed with amusement that Ed was indeed back when he returned from his own lunch break, so Stede practically floated downstairs in his eagerness. Ed seemed equally delighted when he saw Stede at the back of the line, and joined him at their usual bench as soon as he could get away. Stede saw that the Iggy fellow was also on duty, which was a surprise, and seemed to be angrily watching them.
“Verdict on the Prime Thyme?” Ed asked, taking a slower seat than Stede had ever seen him move.
“Scrumptious as always!” Stede answered. “Are you feeling okay?” he continued with concern.
Ed waved him off. “Old knee injury. I tweaked it a couple weeks ago hopping out of the truck; that’s why folks have been covering the distribution service while I rested up doing ordering and prep work. But it’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“I’m glad to hear it!” Stede said. “Though I must admit I have missed our lunches. Would you ever consider spending time together outside of work… perhaps dinner and drinks?”
Stede didn’t quite understand Ed’s shy smile, as if he couldn’t believe Stede was asking, but after a moment he agreed. They set a time and place (a seafood place about a mile away called The Dock; Friday at 7 PM), and talked away the rest of the lunch hour like they hadn’t been separated at all.
Stede was still buzzing inside as he took the elevator back upstairs for the rest of his boring day. He couldn’t believe his luck. Ed also valued their friendship and wanted to spend more time together. How wonderful!
When the doors opened on his floor, he was startled to see Iggy waiting to get on. There was an awkward shuffle as they traded places, and Iggy gave him one final glare as the doors closed again. Well, that was odd.
Stede shook off the strange feeling and was headed back towards his desk when he was distracted by loud laughter coming from the Badmintons’ corner office.
“Oh, Baby Bonnet, how he tickles me!” cried Nigel.
“This is typical, really,” responded Chauncey. “He never could figure out how to pass for human.”
“And yet,” said Nigel, still shaking with amusement. “This is a new low, even for him. How pathetic do you have to be, how very friendless and alone, to cling to some ridiculous food service worker like a crying baby. I can’t believe it got so bad that the partner had to come ask us to speak with him about it!”
Chauncey snorted. “Ridiculous is right. You’d think Bonnet would have learned by now to be selective with his company, but of course no one with any taste or sense would want to spend time with him anyway. No wonder he’s harassing ex-convicts—he’s desperate for companionship. Too bad no one can love a monster.”
Stede backed away slowly, Nigel’s responding laughter still ringing in his ears. He’d heard enough.
---
Stede hit enter on his keyboard and let out a sigh of relief, sinking back onto the couch cushions. There, resignation sent. At least he’d never have to set foot in that horrid office again. He glanced around at the dirty plates and empty wine glasses on the coffee table in front of him but couldn’t find the motivation to start tidying up. It had been a rough week, culminating in the decision to quit the job he hated, and maybe he deserved a break.
Which was, of course, when someone started hammering on the door of his apartment.
“Stede, are you in there?” shouted Mary’s voice. “Please open up, I’m worried!”
Stede rushed to open the door, temporarily forgetting that he was in rumpled pajamas with a stain from pizza grease and splatters of red wine.
Mary looked him up and down, then asked tersely, “What’s going on, Stede? You were supposed to take the kids during my art show last night, and you never showed up. You weren’t answering your phone. I had to leave them with my *mother*.” They both shuddered a moment at that.
Stede tried to apologize as he invited Mary in, but she cut him off.
“I don’t need empty words, Stede. I deserve an explanation. I’m not lying when I say this is scaring me. It’s so unlike you!” She waved at his sloppy attire.
Stede sighed forlornly and tried to explain everything that had happened as they settled on the couch. Mary listened attentively, and only tried to clarify things at the end.
“So this Iggy guy goes to the Badmintons and tells them that you’re bothering Ed, keeping him away from his work, that you were making him uncomfortable. Did Ed ever say anything like that to you? Did he ever seem upset?”
“No, that’s just it!” cried Stede. “We always had such a lovely time. And just that day, he’d agreed to meet me outside of work time for dinner and drinks.”
That made Mary’s brows raise for a moment, but she continued calmly, “And what did Ed say about all this when you met up with him?”
Stede was silent and couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Stede,” Mary said, a little more firmly. “What did Ed say when you asked him about it?”
“I didn’t go,” Stede mumbled miserably. “I couldn’t, not after what I’d heard. They were right: I’m a monster, a plague. I can’t believe I’ve burdened Ed with my ridiculous company all these months.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Stede, think for a moment. You said Ed always seemed to enjoy your conversations, and just based on the fact that he always made you special food and the way you’ve talked about him all summer, that sounds accurate. Is it possible that this Iggy was just put out by Ed losing focus on the business and took it out on you?”
“Perhaps?” Stede said meekly. “But what if he was telling the truth?”
“Well,” answered Mary. “I think you might have had a better shot before you stood him up FOR YOUR DATE.”
“What?! It wasn’t a date! Was it?!” exclaimed Stede. His mind wandered back, to the sweet but timid smile Ed had given him when he accepted. “Oh, my god, I’m an idiot!”
“Well, that’s not news to me,” said Mary with a wry smile. “Now let’s put our heads together and figure out how to get your man back.”
---
It was Monday again, so Stede arrived in the courtyard at 11 AM on the dot. The truck was there, but it was Iggy on duty, not Ed. Stede could hardly believe that it was only two weeks ago that Ed had so tenderly smiled and agreed to dinner. The leaves were already changing and time was moving too fast.
Well, nothing for it. He walked up to the truck and waited in the line, hoping to get some news about Ed. But when Iggy saw him, he asked the next customer to wait and came barreling out of the back of the truck before bodily dragging Stede out of sight.
“What did you do to him?!” he hissed at Stede, his fingers clenched tightly in Stede’s collar.
Stede sighed and gave the only answer that came to mind: “I fell in love with him.”
“Yeah, ‘cause that makes sense,” snorted Iggy. “If you love him so much, why’d you stand him up?”
“Because I believed what you told my bosses. That I was harassing him, bothering him, that he shouldn’t have to put up with me.”
“What changed your mind?” Iggy asked with a sneer.
“Well, realizing that what I was feeling was more than friendship was a start. And then I had this idea…” As he detailed his plan to Iggy, he could feel the other man softening.
“You’re sure about this?” Iggy asked skeptically.
“More than anything,” promised Stede. “Can you help me?”
Iggy sighed deeply, then grabbed a spare napkin and began scribbling an address. “Don’t make me fucking regret this.”
---
Stede followed another resident into Ed’s building and made his way to the unit number Iggy had provided. After a fortifying breath, he knocked on the door.
He wasn’t prepared for the Ed that answered. A vision as always, to be sure (the fuchsia robe really was his color), but Stede also noticed the downturned mouth now visible through short stubble and his sunken eyes as they widened in surprise.
“How did you know where to find me?” asked Ed nervously.
“Iggy told me,” answered Stede.
This seemed to shock Ed, though he still absently corrected: “Izzy.”
“His name is Izzy? Really?!” frowned Stede. “Well, no matter. I’m here for you, Ed.”
“You’re ten days too late,” huffed Ed as he tried to close the door.
But Stede was determined. “Please, just let me explain. If you still want me gone after I’ve said my piece, I’ll wish you well and leave without a fight. I just want you to hear me out. I can’t promise it’s a very good excuse, but I will endeavor to make it up to you, I swear it.”
Ed hesitated for a moment before allowing him in. Stede glanced around and saw a slightly unkempt if homey place, much like his own, though Ed’s was covered in half-drunk mugs of tea and empty pints of Ben & Jerry’s instead. His heart wrenched again, and he found himself stalled in the door of the living area.
“Whatever,” Ed said, trying to tidy the worst of it. “Things kinda got away from me after I fought with Izzy about him going behind my back to your bosses. Worried about the business, all that, you know.” Stede nodded softly and joined him by the couch.
As they sat, Stede brought out the paperwork and began to explain his plan: using some of the ridiculous wealth his father had left him to invest, as silent or involved a partner as Ed wanted him to be. He brought up the commercial listings that his real estate agent had sent on his tablet, and showed Ed the notes he’d made in the Uber based on Izzy’s feedback on the plan.
“So, what do you think?” he asked anxiously, waiting for Ed’s judgment. When there was no response, he glanced up to see silent tears making their way down Ed’s cheeks.
“You’d do all of this for me?” he asked with a sniffle.
“Oh, my darling,” Stede said, gently wiping the tears from Ed’s face. “I’d give you the world if I could.”
And there, with the rough draft of the incorporation papers for Blackbeard’s Bar & Grill spread out before them, they shared their first tentative kiss.