#mild fever

It had taken some coaxing and well-meaning threads from Stede to get him that far, but now that Ed was resting comfortably in Stede's bed, a cool compress on his forehead, wrapped in a robe which smelled of Stede and lavender, and covered with layers upon layers of the finest blankets, while a steaming mug of tea with a tooth-rotting amount of sugar sat right next to him, Ed was grateful that he had been persuaded to take a break. Just like Ed had learned about the concept of „retirement“ from Stede, Stede had also introduced him to the term „sick leave“. A time of rest and recuperation for the illness-vexed body.

There was just one more thing missing for Ed to reach peak levels of comfort.

“Steeede? What's taking you so long, man?”

Calling out for Stede had not been the best idea, since it launched Edward into a chesty coughing fit.

“Just a second longer, Edward,” Stede replied from the other end of the room, where he was rummaging through his shelves and cabinets, fluttering from one spot to the next like an oversized butterfly. “I'll be with you before you can say 'Tell me where the loot is or you'll be skinned alive!'”

“Well, you just said it and you're not here, yet, so... “

“Psshh... I never had you down as the nit-picky type, Ed,” Stede waved Ed's objection away with his hand as if it were a pesky insect, his long, lacy cuffs dancing around his wrists. “You are quite moody when you're sick, aren't you?”

“Moody? No!,” Ed protested, crossing his arms in front of his chest, sounding decidedly moody as he did. Stede just shot him a look. “And besides, I'm not nitpicky. I'm a perfectionist. You don't achive my level of piracy and fuckery by doing things half-arsed.”

“Fair point,” Stede conceded as he approached, a vision of soft pastels, gold embroidery and white lace.

He was pushing a tea cart with ridiculously intricate gold-plated acanthus-carvings towards Edward. It was laden with various little bottles and vials of medicine and spirits, a stack of handkerchiefs, and books. The cart had been part of their latest loot from raiding a French ship and it was Stede's newest obsession. He loved pushing it around the captain's quarters to transport things, but in this case, it actually came in quite handy as an additional side-table for Ed's sickbed.

“What the hell is all of this stuff?”

“This,” Stede declared with a dramatic flourish, “is an assortment of things that will make you feel better in no time. Especially curated for you by me.”

Ed took a jar from the cart and peered into it, moving careful so the cool compress on his forehead would not slip. Inside of the jar were a bunch of leeches writhing and winding against the glass.

“Eww, come on Stede, you can't be serious! I hate those fuckers!” He hastily put the jar back down, staring at Stede in horror. “There's no way in hell I'll allow you to put one of those on me, man! I'd rather die than have my blood sucked out of me by some disgusting vampire snail!”

“Well alright, alright! No leeches,” Stede agreed and put the jar onto the lower shelf of the tea cart. “But perhaps I could interest you in this soothing balm for your chest..”

“Look, Stede,” Ed began softly, interrupting the blonde before he could rattle on about whatever ointment he was about to suggest, “I appreciate that you compiled all of that stuff to make me feel better, but I don't really need any of it.” As he spoke, Ed propped himself up on his elbows, taking off the cool cloth. His eyes were much more intense like this. Their vast, dark seas gazing at Stede, deep and mysterious like the ocean at midnight. “There's just one thing I need to make me feel better.”

“And what's that?,” Stede asked eagerly, curious blue eyes scanning the room to find the object in question before meeting Edward's eyes again, lips parted, muscles tensing in anticipation as Stede readied himself to go and get whatever Edward desired.

“It's you, you nut!,” Edward chuckled. “I need you. Right here next to me. That's all it takes to make me feel better.”

Stede's face glowed, his chest swelling with pride.

“Well, in that case...”

In one swift motion, Stede shrugged off his Jacket and kicked the shoes off his feet before he hopped onto the bed next to Edward. Their bodies met in a long, warm kiss, and soon the tea cart was forgotten as the two men melted into each other.

***

Some time later, Izzy made his way to the captain's cabin. He had not seen Edward all day and he did not like that his captain spent more and more of his time with the pompous colorful canary that was Stede Bonnet. Izzy could not allow that his cut-throat, menacing soul-as-black-as-hell Blackbeard fell more and more under the spell of the would be captain Bonnet.

Besides, the rest of Blackbeard's crew was itching to get news from their captain. It was all nice and dandy to spend some time aboard the Revenge, but it had been a while since their last raid and the men were itching for their next adventure.

“Edward?,” Izzy demanded, his voice as loud and assertive as his knock at Stede's door. “Edward, you need to come out, I need to talk to you!”

He was not getting a response, but Izzy was was tired of waiting, so he just opened the door and barged in – only to be aggressively shushed. Stede was sitting in bed, Ed's head resting peacefully in his lap, his body curled around Stede like a black cat.

“What the fuck?!”

“He's asleep,” Stede mouthed. “Come back later.”

“But...,” Izzy huffed, but Stede shooed him away with his hand.

“Not now!," Stede hissed, "We'll be up on deck AFTER Edward's rest.”

“Fine,” Izzy pressed out through gritted teeth, then turned on his heel and left for the main deck, his mood as dark as as a thundercloud.

“Where's the Captain?,” Fang asked as soon as Izzy set foot on deck.