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Their first time won’t be Stede’s first time ever, but it may as well be.
Ed still struggles to make sense of it, how Stede somehow managed to go this long without good sex, without people throwing themselves at his feet and begging to please him. The thought that Stede doesn’t already know what it feels like to be taken to bed by someone who truly wants him is likely to make him a bit weepy if he thinks about it too much, so Ed pushes the thought from his mind, instead focusing his energy on mapping out the lines and curves of Stede’s body as he lies before him.
“How did you know you liked guys?” Ed says quietly, conversationally, his head tilting as his flat hand runs slowly down Stede’s chest over his t-shirt. His palm rises with Stede’s heaving breaths, falls with each rushed exhale.
“I didn’t, really,” Stede replies, his voice already strained, his eyes watching every shift of Ed’s fingers. “I just knew I didn’t like women. Or that they didn’t do anything for me, at least.”
Humming thoughtfully, Ed begins his journey back up Stede’s torso, before Stede adds sheepishly, “Well, I didn’t know until—”
Ed blinks, pausing his movements. “Until?”
Stede smiles, then murmurs, “Until you.”
Part of Ed already knew the answer, he thinks. Deep down. He knew it even when they were ‘just friends’, when everyone else could see it coming from a mile away. Doesn’t stop it from taking his breath away.
His hand pauses in the centre of Stede’s chest, resting in the dip between his pecs. Ed would live there if he could. Frolic through his chest hair like something from The Sound of Music.
“What…” Ed starts, perfectly aware that his next words would count as fishing for attention, before he remembers that he doesn’t have to worry about being judged for that. Not with Stede. “What was it that made you realise?”
A gentle flush comes to Stede’s face almost instantly. It’s clearly a question he knows the answer to without much thought. Ed smirks.
“Go on, you dirty fucker. Tell me.”
Stede’s eyes go all wide and wet, like a puppy. “It’s embarrassing,” he says weakly.
“Nope,” Ed dismisses, shifting in the bed to prop himself up on an elbow, looming over Stede the way he’s learned gets him hot and bothered. He fixes Stede with a molten look, one eyebrow raised, and is thrilled to watch Stede squirm beneath his gaze. “You’ve gotta tell me now. Can’t leave me hanging.”
Stede wars with himself for a moment, a small frown knitting his brows, before he lets out a heavy sigh and admits, “Your hands.”
Now that… that wasn’t what Ed was expecting. He was half-thinking Stede would say something about his arms, honestly— fuck knows Stede can’t stop touching them— but his hands?
Ed frowns a little, studying his own hands where they rest, one on Stede’s tummy and one flat on the bedsheets.
“Really?” He asks. He lifts the one from Stede’s belly, immediately mourning the loss of his warmth, and flexes his fingers experimentally, as if the movement would uncover something about his own hands that Ed hadn’t noticed before. They’re nice enough, Ed supposes, and they look quite nice with his rings and tattoos to decorate them, but—
But Stede’s eyes are fixed on it, watching every movement.
Nodding shakily, Stede gulps. “I’d watch you, sometimes. Drawing or texting, or braiding your hair. You have beautiful hands, Ed.” Thoughtlessly, Ed links his fingers with Stede’s, and he’s grateful for the contact when Stede adds lowly, “I wanted them everywhere.”
Oh, fucking hell.
The thing is, they’ve been trying to take it slow. Not because they aren’t a sure thing, they were both in far too deep before they ever even got together, but because it’s new and exciting and they want to do this properly. It’s just that…
It’s just that Stede is obscenely fucking hot and Ed is a bit in love with him. How is he supposed to resist?
(He will. Will do for as long as Stede needs him to.
Fucking hell, though.)
Ed swears quietly, his head falling forwards, his fingers clenching in Stede’s. “And is that…” he starts to ask. “Do you still want that? ‘Cos I’ll put them anywhere, mate, wherever you want—”
Stede laughs despite himself. He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head— cautious, but not afraid. “Not everywhere,” he says carefully, meeting Ed’s gaze without a hint of apology, and fuck, Ed’s so proud. “I do, but I don’t think… not today.”
“Okay,” Ed tells him, because it is, this is all okay. “Alright. That’s alright, Stede.” He ducks his head down a little, just enough to press a gentle kiss to Stede’s neck. Fuck, he’s got a gorgeous fucking neck. All thick and soft and biteable. Holy shit, why the fuck hasn’t Ed bitten it yet?
He trails his lips down, not really kissing but not not kissing, before gently digging his teeth in, testing the water. The breath rushes from Stede’s lungs all at once.
“Yes,” he gasps, “that’s— yes, Ed—”
“Is this alright?” Ed asks, careful to let Stede know that— “I’m not trying to, like… this isn’t setting up for anything, y’know? I’m just… exploring.”
Stede’s hand finds Ed’s head, his fingers lacing into his hair. “Exploring,” he echoes, arching backwards to give Ed more space to work. “Yes. This is— feels good.”
Smiling into Stede’s skin, encouraged by the hand in his hair, Ed murmurs, “Good,” before continuing his journey down Stede’s neck.
He quickly learns that Stede likes rougher treatment; not painful, not quite, but firm enough to send zaps down his spine and force broken little moans from his mouth. Stede is so fucking sensitive it makes Ed want to scream a bit, though he supposes a lifetime of not being touched the way he needs has a lot to do with it.
“You like that, huh?” Ed murmurs after a few minutes, because it’s worth double-checking these things, and it always makes Stede all shivery when he asks. “Is it good, the teeth?”
Stede nods as best he can with Ed’s face tucked beneath his jaw. “Yes,” he tells him, breathless, and there’s a slight pause before he adds, “You could do it harder, though. If you want.”
The bed drops out from under them. Ed’s floating towards the ceiling, harder, harder, harder echoing in his head like a litany.
He swallows the groan rising from his chest, returns back to earth, and tries desperately to remain fucking normal.
“Harder, yeah?” He teases as he pulls back to meet Stede’s eyes, grateful that he only sounds slightly wrecked. “You don’t want me to leave a mark, do you?”
It’s rhetorical, or it’s meant to be, but Stede suddenly goes silent and still beneath him. Ed squints, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Or do you?”
Stede shifts in the sheets. “I know they look…”
“Slutty?” Ed grins.
Stede nose wrinkles at the word choice. “… I suppose. But I’ve always found them rather nice. It’s like…” He trails off then, biting his bottom lip as he tries to find the words. “It’s like proof that someone wanted you, so badly they were... overcome by it. They couldn’t control their own strength.” His gaze goes glassy, then, fixed on the ceiling as he adds, “They had to leave proof that they were there. So people know.”
Immediately, Ed makes a mental note to himself. Hold his hand everywhere. Kiss him in the street. Make sure they know.
“You want me to give you a hickey, is that what you’re saying?” The way Stede’s eyes darken is answer enough, and Ed grins as he looms over him, shifting his leg over and ducking down to lavish the other side of Stede’s neck with attention. “You want me to mark you up?” He asks in-between kisses. “Show everyone you’re mine?”
Within seconds, Stede’s grip tightens in Ed’s hair and he’s pulling Ed’s lips from Stede’s shoulder to instead crash them to his own for a deep, filthy kiss.
Ed gets the message.
He leaves a line of small red marks across the column of Stede’s throat, a necklace of bruises prettier than the finest of diamonds, standing stark against his pale flesh. Stede gasps and writhes and arches through it, begging mindlessly for more, yes, harder, yes, and fuck, Ed wants to give Stede what he wants but he’s dangerously hard from just this, minutes away from helplessly rutting against Stede’s thigh or having to excuse himself to the bathroom.
“Ed,” Stede moans brokenly as Ed’s tongue presses into a bruise, his fingernails digging at Ed’s scalp. “Ed, I—”
Ed’s ready to curse himself for getting too carried away, disappointed at the thrill in his stomach when he sees the dainty ring of possession he’s bitten and sucked into Stede’s skin, and he’s just starting to pull away with an apology forming on his tongue, when Stede’s hips buck into his.
Fuck. Fuck.
Stede is straining against his jeans, painfully hard and clearly desperate for relief, and his beautiful face is scrunched into one of agonising ecstacy.
“Please,” Stede manages. His eyes flutter open, and Ed’s almost fucking bowled over by the sheer lust in his gaze, hungry and fiery and fucking addictive. “Please, Ed, touch me.”
And fuck, just hearing the words has Ed groaning into Stede’s shoulder. His head swims with want, his fingers already itching to reach for him.
Still, he has to make sure.
Ed steadies his voice to ask, “Really?” A retort is already forming on Stede’s lips, he can tell, but Ed shakes his head, continues, “I know we’ve got a bit carried away. I don’t want to go too fast and for you to wish we’d held out longer afterwards.”
The words get through. Stede takes one steadying breath. Then another. Then he gently strokes a hand through Ed’s hair, slow and certain.
“Edward,” Stede says in that tone that always makes Ed want to drop to his knees. “I want you. I know what I’m doing. And I know you do, too.” He smiles as he brings Ed’s face down to his, and brushes his lips with his own. “Please,” Stede whispers. “Touch me.”
Overwhelmed with fondness and raw need, Ed obliges.
He’s a tease about it, of course he is, smirking against Stede’s lips as he trails his hand down Stede’s front, pausing to run his fingers along the bare skin above Stede’s waistband as his hips tilt up into Ed’s hand.
Ed plans on stringing it out longer, just to make it all the more satisfying (briefly considers going down on him, if Stede would be into that), but Ed only has the chance to give Stede’s dick one purposeful rub with his palm over Stede’s jeans before Stede tenses beneath him, shaking and grunting into Ed’s bicep as his nails rake across Ed’s shoulders.
Confused, Ed yanks his hand away immediately, his brow furrowing with concern as he draws back, just in time for Stede to babble—
“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He sounds panicked, and Ed gently tries to calm Stede while he rushes, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— shit, that’s embarrassing—”
“Hey, hey,” Ed hushes, laying a hand over Stede’s chest. His heart races beneath Ed’s palm, thump-thump-thumping in his ribcage. “Shit, babe, what’s wrong?”
When Stede doesn’t answer, panic grips Ed in turn, and he draws back further to take in Stede’s body. Physically, he looks fine, and Ed’s eyes trail down Stede’s form and then—
He sees it.
Stede huffs in annoyance, half-heartedly trying to cover the spreading wet patch across the denim with the duvet. “Don’t laugh,” he whines, addressing the smile tugging at Ed’s lips, and Ed quickly shakes his head, rubbing gently at Stede’s chest in reassurance.
“I’m not laughing,” Ed insists through a grin. “I’m not. I just…”
A strange surge of pride prickles in his stomach as he tries to articulate his thoughts. He did this to Stede.
Ed was the one who wound him up this tightly, so much that Stede couldn’t contain himself. Ed was the one who made Stede feel so good that he came in his favourite jeans without warning. Ed was the one who decorated that gorgeous fucking neck of his with love bites and made Stede gasp and whimper into his ear.
“It’s just that that was really fucking hot,” Ed finishes, which is met with an eye roll from Stede. “It was! Hey, listen—” He climbs back over Stede until he’s straddling him, one hand on either side of Stede’s head, closing him in. Stede reluctantly meets his gaze. His cheeks are still flushed a delicious candyfloss pink. “Imagine if I had done that. Came without you even touching me properly, just from a bit of fooling around and a few hickeys. How would you feel?”
To his credit, and somewhat unexpectedly, it looks as though Stede is actually thinking about it. Maybe a little too hard, actually, because his eyes soon glaze over, and his breath gets that little bit shorter, and Ed has to nudge Stede with his knee to bring him back to earth. Ed looks at him expectantly. Stede gulps.
“Y-yeah,” he chokes out, and Ed laughs through the rest of Stede’s sentence. “Yes, that’s… I see.”
“Exactly.” Ed grins, then drops down to steal a quick kiss from Stede’s lips, which turns into another, and another. “Now,” he adds conspiratorially, one eyebrow raised. “You wanna go again?” Stede laughs as Ed pounces on him once more, playfully dotting the thin slice of chest visible through Stede’s shirt with kisses, Ed’s words muffled by Stede’s laughter and soft fabric and even softer flesh. “Where else can I bite to make you come, huh? Shall we find out…”