CobaltAugust

Frenchie patches a sail, while Oluwande and Archie scrub the railings under Auntie’s watchful eye. The Swede swabs the deck, Jackie watching from nearby, appreciating how his muscles flex as he sloshes water onto the boards.

Lucius dangles from the side of the ship, paintbrush in hand. He's putting the final touches to the vessel's new name.

'Babe! Can you hoist me up?'

Pete peers over the railing. 'All done?'

Lucius looks up at his husband and smiles.

"All done.

As Pete sets to work pulling him up, Lucius's gaze falls to the name again. The letters aren't as straight as he hoped, but the words are clear. The sun glints off the gold paint, illuminating a promise and a warning for every ship to see.

Two naval officers stand between Stede and Ed - two men who want to kill them and keep Stede from touching Ed again after so many months apart.

They exchange nods before turning away, one heading for Stede and the other for Ed.

Stede pulls his gun from its holster and draws his cutlet. The officer straightens his wig and slides his sword from its sheath. He takes a step towards Stede, weapon pointed at his chest and Stede smiles. A look of confusion darts across the officer's face before it morphs into fear as Stede starts to run. He pelts across the black sand, gun swinging up to point at the officer’s head.

Bang!

The man screams and crumples to the ground. Stede barely spares him a glance as he runs past, boots sinking into blood-soaked sand. He sees Ed up ahead, charging at the other officer who has his sword held high. Stede’s breath stutters as the man slashes downward, aiming for Ed’s shoulder. Ed skids through the sand, bending low and sweeps his sword towards the man, bringing it up in a wicked slash, slicing the man’s thigh. The man howls and Ed drives his shoulder into his stomach, sending him flying into the air before he crashes to the ground. Ed swivels on his heel and brings his sword down fast and hard, cutting off the man’s cries.

He turns to Stede and drops his sword to the ground. Stede stops up, boots digging into the sand. His throat is tight with so much longing he can barely breathe as he takes in Ed’s face. He’s missed him so much. Ed stares at him, seeming unsure whether he should walk towards Stede or turn away. He has every right to hesitate, but it still makes Stede’s heart hammer in his chest. Ed takes a deep breath and starts to move towards Stede, slow at first, but then faster, his strides lengthening, and then he’s running.

Stede drops his weapons and breaks into a run and then suddenly Ed’s there - right in front of him - alive and so beautiful. Stede throws his arms around him, crushing their bodies together. Ed makes a broken sound, face buried in the crook of Stede’s neck. He pulls back just enough to meet Stede’s gaze, and then they're kissing.

It’s a far cry from their first kiss. Ed’s face is rougher, his beard scraping against Stede’s stubble and his lips immediately part, swallowing the noises Stede hadn’t even realised he was making. Ed tastes like tobacco and salt, and Stede needs more of it, needs to taste every word and laugh and shout he’s missed all these months. He presses even closer and deepens the kiss, pouring his love into Ed, giving him everything he’s been carrying so close to his heart for so long.

When they pull apart, Stede sees tears streaming down Ed's cheeks, disappearing into his beard. Stede reaches out and wipes the tears away, fingers lingering on Ed’s cheek.

‘You left,’ Ed finally whispers.

‘What am I?’ Aziraphale asked with a look that sent a pang of sorrow through Crowley.

‘You’re an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.’

‘That sounds, um…’

‘Lonely?’

Aziraphale didn’t reply, just nodded.

‘Yeah,’ Crowley said.

‘But you said it wasn’t.’

Oh, this sweet, naive angel. Thousands of years among the humans and he was still so ready to believe every word he heard.

‘I’m a demon,’ Crowley said. ‘I lied.’

They sat on the rock for a long time. So long, in fact, that day turned to night and night bled back into day before another word was spoken.

‘Where are you headed next?’ Aziraphale finally asked, eyes fixed on the shimmering sea, the soft pastels of dawn pinking the water.

‘I dunno, thought I might hang around here a little longer.’ Crowley rose to his feet and stretched, hands high above his head. Aziraphale turned to watch him. ‘I’ve a house here, a nice little one-bed with its own garden, just on the outskirts of the town. I think I can stay a few more years, enjoy the wine and good weather before reporting back to Hell.’ He looked down at Aziraphale and gave him a crooked grin. Azizaphale’s eyes darted away and Crowley’s grin only widened. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘I’m not sure. I should probably head back up, check that the reports on Job’s trials don’t mention anything too out of the ordinary.’

Crowley reached out a hand and Aziraphale took it, letting himself be hoisted to his feet. His hand was warm and soft in Crowley’s. They stayed holding hands for a long moment before Aziraphale pulled his hand free and smoothed down his robes.

‘I best be off, then.’ He took a deep breath and began to make a sign in the air.

‘Wait.’

Aziraphale’s hand froze.

Crowley swallowed. ‘What if you came over to my place, to, um, you know, celebrate a job well done.’ Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow and Crowley hurried on. ‘I could cook. Show you some of the finer things the humans have managed to whip up in their kitchens. Would be a shame if you went back to Heaven without trying something other than Ox.’

Aziraphale stared at Crowley for a long moment, lips pursed. Crowley shifted awkwardly, sandaled foot scraping across coarse sand.

‘Fine.’

‘Yeah?’ Crowley couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face.

‘But no wine, you hear me, Demon?’

Crowley threw up his hands. ‘You have my word.’

Azriaphale rolled his eyes. ‘The word of a demon, I’m sure I can put my utmost trust in that.’

Crowley tilted his head and winked, a sliver of yellow iris and slitted pupil sliding over Aziraphale's face. ‘Be at mine by sundown.’ He turned and started to stroll away.

‘How will I find your house?’ Aziraphale called after him.

Crowley swivelled, walking backwards for a few steps. ‘Follow the snakes. I’ll tell them to point the way.’