#kraxed

             HE’S PACING BEFORE EDWARD, down in the bowls of the ship ( but not in bonnet’s quarters, even if it seems as if the man’s taken up permanent residence in there, because izzy refuses to stand there looking at... all of that ). “i don’t understand what makes you think going to a fancy PARTY with a bunch of fuckin’.... aristocrats is in ANY way a SANE thing to do. would you use your head, for one moment, edward? PLEASE?”

izzy drags his hands down his face, clear exasperation in his eyes && his voice. “what if someone recognizes you? you could d—” die. he clamps his jaw shut, grinding his teeth.

winks at her

                                busy night, though to be fair when running a small island, most nights are busy nights.     it’s not often jackie will move around the bar, usually she’ll make people come to her, but it’s been awhile, and she’s in a mood. so when he winks at her from across the bar, she sends a drink his way, and trails her hand along the bar top, looking very much like the cat that caught the canary.    it’s been awhile. 

                                “ blackbeard, baby, don’t tease me. ”    she laughs,    “ my heart can’t take it, you know that. ”    friendly flirtation, not that jackie would mind adding him to her list.    

send  “ i could’ve sworn i booked a twin room… “  for  our  muses  to  be  in  a  hotel inn  room  where  they  must  share  a  bed.

Izzy had unceremoniously dropped his and Edward’s travel packs by the door when he’d stepped inside after the captain and saw the single bed. More like a twin bed. Or very nearly that small maybe a foot wider. “It’s alright, Edward. These things happen,” he sighed, gloved hand rubbing his face for a moment. And these things sometimes did happen when Edward was in charge of arrangements. The man’s changeable moods and whims often made it so Izzy usually took it upon himself to set these sorts of things up. Make plans. Execute the plans. Etc. He’d help his captain out in any way that he could. Speaking of which.

“Don’t worry about it,” Izzy’s soft gravelly voice sounded with his back to Blackbeard as he walked over to the far wall with his pack before shrugging off his vest. “I’ll sleep over here.” He carefully loosened his cravat, folding the ring up inside it before tucking it inside a pocket of his pack. Sitting down on the floor, he started to loosen the ties of his boots. “I’ve already spoken to the innkeeper about having breakfast ready and a bath drawn for you tomorrow. Just get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” And this was going to be a long night for his back.

There had been anger when he first returned. Ed had felt and betrayed when he hadn't shown up to run away with him. Stede supposed that was his fault. In his attempt at protecting Ed and mending things with Mary, he had neglected to give him any explanation for why he had broken his promise. So perhaps he had deserved Ed's wrath when he came back.

But eventually that anger turned into arguing, then to tearful apologies, which turned, somehow, into kissing. All of which landed them where they were now. Naked and vulnerable in the captain’s bed of the Revenge, laying so close Stede could almost feel his lover’s heartbeat.

“It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this, but you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling,” Ed said.

they're at a port town on a tiny island north of grenada. it's a pirate haven, but less rowdy and more . . . shady. watch your pockets and watch your throats sort of a thing.

stede bonnet no longer goes traipsing into places pronouncing himself the gentleman pirate, and with the more common clothing, the pierced ear, the hair that's gotten just long enough to tie into a ponytail, he might even look like he belongs there.

the crew had split to manage various portions of business, with edward and stede the only ones going off on their own, doing what stede has labeled reconnaissance - also known as 'quietly sit at the first bar you find and listen for information'.

stede had been hit on twice, once in an attempt to get his purse, and both times he'd rushed them off as subtly as possible, so as not to break his 'cover'. neither of them had approached him by touch, and certainly with his back turned.

the third one does.

a knife slid out of his pocket, stede twists and snags his foot around their ankle, slamming them down into the bar with the blade at their throat, his free hand tightened into their collar, words leaving his throat in a low growl -

"hand off unless you want to lose it - "

 . . . oh. oh, it's ed.

" oh. christ, darling, i could've killed you. "

stede glances around, briefly - not many seem to have paid attention to the commotion, save for a pair right next to them at the bar. stede shyly smiles, on instinct, waving away their attention as he slides his knife back it's place.

he uses his grip on ed's collar to pull him back up, then goes about fixing any ways he may have mussed his clothes.