Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ed Teach is having a very cool, very calm, very fucking normal day at work. He shoves his hands in his pockets, the usual uniform of ripped black jeans and an old band tee under his leather jacket, and makes himself saunter from the kitchen down the hall, chin-nodding to people he passes, tossing out the usual insincere greetings.

Hey.

How’s it going.

I’m good, mate, good.

The last one’s not usually true in this soul-sucking desk job but today he’s fucking amazing, actually, because for almost a year, he’s been waiting for this moment to arrive, and now here it is. He promised himself he’d take this chance, and fuck it. He’s going to do it. He’s going to say the thing, at last, or some version of it.

That lasts as long as it takes for him to wander out into the godforsaken open-plan maze of Shuttlecock Environmental Solutions and make a beeline for Stede Bonnet’s desk. All of a sudden he’s acutely aware of how surrounded they are by other people. Jackie, the manager of accounting, whips her head up and narrows her eyes just as he passes, always on the hunt for gossip. Down the aisle, Jeffrey from legal leans back on his chair with a hopeful look, probably either praying for a distraction or a swift death.

Ed’s giving him neither. He makes it to the most brightly decorated cubicle in the whole place, the whole thing shining like a fucking rainbow beacon, a stylish one, mind you, and leans an elbow on the partition, super casual. Very relaxed right now, even though his heart’s hammering in his throat and he might have lost the feeling in his hands, a little bit.

“Stede,” he hisses. “Stede!”

Stede’s got his blond head down, typing studiously away on his keyboard, noise-cancelling headphones on to zone out the relentless chatting, typing, sniffing office noises they both hate. There’s yet another report up on his screen and he’s pecking out line after line, and it’s all so fucking boring. The single only upside to treading water here is that they’re doing it together, Ed and his best friend.

Or, Ed and the guy he’s fallen so in love with over the last three years that it aches in his bones, and as far as he knows, Stede’s still every bit as oblivious to that as he’s ever been, even though he’s sure Stede feels the same way, deep down. Ninety-eight percent sure, and it’s the two percent that’s terrifying.

One way or the other, Stede won’t be clueless for much longer, because Ed’s got a plan.

It’s a great plan. Ed’s a fucking tactical genius.

The only variable he can’t control is Stede.

He taps the guy on the shoulder, and Stede’s arms and legs go flying, jerking in all directions with a comically ridiculous excess of surprise. He swipes the headphones off as a scream dies on his lips and a smile slowly replaces it, one relieved hand planted on his chest. “God. Ed, fuck, I thought you were—I thought you were—“

“Let me guess, some kind of cryptid?”

His cheeks flush. “Maybe.”

“Listening to another podcast, hey?” Ed leans out and gives his chair a little kick. “Never know, I might be the kind who’s come to kidnap you off to a new life in the woods.”

Stede’s nose does that adorable wrinkle that’s point #17 on Ed’s Top 20 List of all the reasons he’s head over heels with this guy. “They don’t—you know they don’t really do that.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right kind of cryptid,” he says smugly. He nudges Stede, nods to the subtle little line of stickers and pins and prints that are tacked up with loving precision along the partition behind his screen. They’re arranged by colour, shifting right through the spectrum of the rainbow, trees and waves and flowers and the occasional actual rainbow, and it’d be easy for them to look like appropriately-themed decoration for an ecologist working in an environmental non-profit. But they’re more than that. “Ask Tāne and Rupert, they’ve met enough cryptids in fics.”

Some of them fics Ed’s written, some Stede has. Stede’s smile quirks a little at the side, and he leans back in his seat. “Oh, it’s that kind of day, is it?”

“Every day’s a Tree Change day.” He doesn’t know what the fuck happened to his brain when he watched the first episode of the television show they both love three years ago, but as each one aired, he’d seen himself more and more in it. A hot as shit Māori hero committed to protecting the environment by any means? I’m not an eco-terrorist, Rupert, I’m a fucking eco-pirate.

Ed’s the best fucking real-life ecologist there is, outside of Stede, but he joined this place thinking he was going to be saving the world, just like they do in that show, and instead he spends his days filling in form after form to make it easier for the government to smash up the very places they’re meant to look after.

He’s a box-ticking machine. That’s all there is.

Can anyone blame Ed for escaping with his whole brain into something like this? It’s about all the shit he loves. Helps that the show is queer as fuck, a whole found family of misfits just like the ones they’ve gathered at this place, most of them principled as hell, smart, innovative, under-appreciated. Helps that the whole show sings with neurodiversity, too. He’s not sure he’s ever seen anyone as exactly like him as Tāne, with all his fast spinning gears and more energy in his brain than he can get out, and he’s not sure he’s ever seen anyone more like Stede than Rupert, nerdy and quirky and cuter than he knows.

Which of course is exactly why Stede also imprinted on Tree Change like a baby duckling. Stede’s been amicably divorced from Mary since before Ed met him, but Rupert’s storyline had inevitably ended up trickling down into the whole coming out thing last year. Everyone but Stede had been completely unsurprised.

The show’s why they finally started talking to each other in the first place, after the first season finale aired, when Stede came in wearing a button on his shirt that again, looked like an ordinary tree. But Ed would’ve known the Elm of Wisdom fucking anywhere, and it’d finally shoved him over the line from staring heart eyes at the cute guy six desks up, to sliding past him and murmuring, “Sometimes I think I could find every bit of wisdom I need right here in your face.”

The look on Stede’s face at the canon line had been absolutely worth it, holy shit. His eyes had lit up and he’d beamed. He’d dragged Ed off to the kitchen and while he brewed tea for both of them—seven sugars and a dollop of milk for Ed, the guy had been paying attention—he’d launched into a five-minute info dump in which he’d barely paused to breathe. Ed had been glued to every single word. There's been a second season since that one, and Ed’s only ever gotten more interested in both the show and his fellow fan.

“We need to make like a tree and leave,” he says now, quoting one of Tāne’s famous quips under his breath. “Before they find us.”

Stede glances over his shoulder, but everyone’s gotten bored of wondering what they’re up to, and they’ve gone back to their own versions of paperwork hell. It’s their code, and Stede knows as well as Ed does that it means something’s up. He leans forward suddenly, hands pressed to the desk, papers sliding everywhere as his eyes go round. “It’s not the trailer, is it?”

Ed huffs a quiet laugh. “Mate, I wouldn’t be standing here like this, would I? I’d be coming to you live from the ceiling.”

They’ve been waiting not at all patiently for over a year for a single glimpse of their heroes and the final season that’s been promised, filming all wrapped up, just… not being handed over, yet, while the studio waits on who knows what. They'd had the same wait after the first season, but this time it’d all ended in a heartbreaking cliffhanger, and they need to know what’s going to happen next. He needs them to be happy together, because Ed needs… he and Stede to be happy together. It’s become his whole fucking life mission, and seeing it all fall apart on the show instead has hurt like hell, especially right after they finally got their shit together and agreed to run away to a new life in the penultimate episode.

And then after a little kidnapping, Rupert never showed up, and Tāne slid into a dark, dark place, and that’s where it left off.

The only thing they’ve been able to do in the meantime is write a shit-ton more fic about it, but Ed’s got a new plan of attack now. He nods to the hallway again, brows raised in challenge.

Stede sighs. “All right, okay, keep your mystery for the five seconds it’ll take to get from here to somewhere else.”

Yes. No, wait. Fuck. Stede’s getting up, he’s waiting for Ed, and Ed’s going to take him down the hall and just… say shit. Out loud. About his feelings. And it’s going to be fine, Stede’s definitely going to be all, hey, wow, I wish I’d known earlier you were holding these feelings, because I’ve also been holding a lot of feelings and just—passionate making out’s going to ensue, probably. Ed’s even spritzed with breath freshener, just to be absolutely sure he’s ready.

“Ed?” Stede’s brows have drawn together in that way that makes him look like a lost puppy. Reason #13, actually. “Did you want to—“

“Yeah! Uh, fuck it, yeah, let’s—“ He throws two very cool finger guns in the direction of the hall, and goes back to being super fucking casual about everything as he strolls past Jackie again. Stede offers her a bright, passive aggressive compliment about her hideous desk plant on the way, even though they both know he calls it a fuchsia-tinged weed on steroids in private. That bitchy attitude’s right up there on the list, about reason #4, and Ed can feel the daggers Jackie’s staring after him as he steers Stede away from her.

Out in the hall, which is dim, because they turn out the lights to save energy—meanwhile Nigel Badminton’s in his CEO’s office down the hall with thirty more lights on than anyone else—Ed dares to grab Stede’s hand and yanks him along to the storage closet. He does a dramatic Tāne-style recce, glancing in both directions, before he flings open the door and hauls Stede inside after him.

It’s only when the door’s closed and they’re plunged into pitch darkness that he goes to flick on the light, and—“Fuck.” It’s not working. One more bulb maintenance hasn’t bothered to replace, and they’re suddenly caught blind.

Ed scrambles for his phone, gets it out of his pocket, flicks the screen open, and when he looks up Stede’s all lit up in the glare of the screen, staring at him from maybe half a foot away. Ed clears his throat. “Hey.”

It comes out with a real teenaged kind of squeak that he’d thought he left behind thirty years ago, and Stede smiles. “Hello. And what exactly is all this about?”

In for a fucking penny, pulse pounding through his veins. He turns the phone Stede’s way and gives it a good flourish with his other hand. “Kinktober prompts just landed.”

Stede stares at the screen, tiny glowing rectangles reflected in his eyes. “Oh.”

Oh? Ed’s, uh. He’s not sure that was the tone he was going for here. “We’ve been waiting all year, since they said they were finally doing it!”

Stede’s eyes flick up to his. He’s kinda frowning a little. “Ed, it’s—it’s only August. We’re only just starting AUgust! I can’t think about October now!”

Stede’s got a bunch of shit going on for AUgust, he knows, because Ed reads everything that spills out of Stede’s fucking fascinating brain, and Stede reads everything Ed writes, too. They’re joined at the fic writing hip. Nobody’s got a better story brain than Stede, and Ed fucking loves the unhinged stuff he comes up with. Drives him to whole new heights, makes him so much more excited about his own ideas. But this is the first time the fandom’s run this event, and Stede has said he’s keen to give it a go. “Plenty of time to let it marinate, mate. Our first collaboration.”

“I don’t—I don’t know. Anything. About any of this. Now that it’s actually here…”

Ed’s keenly aware of how close together they are in this closet, hemmed in by shelves of paper and stationery and cleaning equipment. Stede’s knee bumps against his, he can smell the guy’s sugar-sweet cologne wafting up. He’s near enough that he could run a hand through Stede’s hair if he wanted, see if it’s as soft as it feels brushing against his neck when Stede nods off against him on their marathon Tree Change rewatch nights. Say the words. Say the fucking words.

But when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is, “I can help.”

Stede’s golden brows shoot up, silvered from the screen’s light. “Help?” And then his expression softens. “Oh, Ed, you already do so much for me.” He reaches for the phone, and Ed hands it over. Realises how sweaty his hands are, fuck, wipes them down on his jeans. Stede scans through the list, brows going higher and higher. “Oh. Oh, you weren’t joking, there are some—“

“More advanced tricks of the trade, yeah, mate. I could… I could run you through them.”

Stede gets to the end of the list, scrolls back up again. Pauses over one that makes him bite his lip and shit, fuck, okay, what if Ed just shoved him back into the tangle of mops there and kissed him, right now? What if?

He doesn’t. Stede hands the phone back and sighs. “You know I’d rather hear it from you than Google any day, but I’m just… I’m not sure I’m experienced enough to make this believable.”

Ed scoffs as he sets the phone down on a shelf, stabilising the light in an upward-beaming wash of blue-white, leaving them both cast in dramatic shadows. “I’ve read your smut. Your smut’s amazing.” Stede’s smut, the thought of him typing out those words, has had Ed coming so hard he’s seen stars on more occasions than he’s willing to admit. “Just a little stretch.”

Stede lets out a laugh. “I don’t even know what some of those things are. Snowballing? What’s a sex machine? How does one—" He makes a big exaggerated set of fingers in the air. “‘Titty-fuck’ someone?”

Every word Ed’s ever known has been knocked clean out of his head as the blood rushes south, away from his brain. And maybe that’s why he doesn’t manage to think it through before he says, “I could show you.”

The brows are so tightly drawn together they’re almost one unit. “As in… porn? Maybe not in the office—“

“No!” It comes out all indignant before he can even register that Stede didn’t just not say he’d watch porn with Ed, like… okay. “I meant, uh. I meant I could show you.”

There’s absolute silence in the closet, Stede staring up at him, gone so still he might as well be frozen. Ed begs a god he’s never really believed in to let the floor open up and drop him through it. At long, long last Stede takes a ragged breath and says, the most incredulous Ed’s ever heard a person sound, “Titty-fucking?”

Oh god, Ed’s going to die. And he’s going to die with blue balls and a heart that’s still yearning, reaching out, desperate for the one person who’s made him feel genuinely seen in years, maybe ever. He pulls up all the courage he’s got left in him and steps closer. Slides a hand up to cup Stede’s cheek and says, “All of it.”

He feels Stede’s gulping swallow under his hand. Ed stands there, looking into his eyes, projecting calm, like he’s trying to fucking… get a wild horse to settle or something, like Tāne would in the middle of busting up an illegal poaching operation. “Oh,” Stede whispers, faint as anything. “Uh.” He squints. “Muzzles?”

“Christ.” Ed takes a step back and lets himself slump dramatically against the opposite wall. “I’m sorry, I’m not—I should just say what I’m thinking, not wait for you to guess it. Don’t want you to feel confused, mate.” He’s still grappling for how to say it, nearly there.

Stede still looks confused, maybe more than ever. But he also looks like he’s summoning up something, and there’s a flare of hope in Ed’s chest. “I’m interested, actually.”

“In—“

“Everything. All of it.” His eyes, if Ed’s not mistaken, have gone a little darker. “You know me. You know I don’t have any experience in, well, anything much.” Stede, who hasn’t dated since the divorce, who only figured himself out last year, learning all the possibilities through this show, this fandom, these stories he’s reading and soon writing with Ed. They both know that’s been a big thing for him. “I want the experience, I do. But I can’t make any promises, Ed. The only thing I feel looking at that list is… panic.”

“The only thing?” Ed’s shoved himself up straighter now, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops, covering the whole two steps back toward Stede, trying for playful. “Nothing else?”

Stede opens his mouth to say something, and then, like the fucking curse that it is, Nigel Badminton’s little bell goes ringing out in the hallway. Like he’s running a fucking school for orphans a hundred years ago, not an actual company full of professionals. Ding ding ding, Nigel’s smarmy voice rising above it. “Conference room, everyone, immediately!”

Ed groans. “Dickfuck, I’m not—“

Stede’s eyes go wide with panic, and he reaches out and grabs Ed’s arm, reels him in so fast that they crash together, puts a fucking hand over his fucking mouth. “Shh. Shh, shh.”

Oh, Ed’s not saying anything. Ed’s just staring at Stede, pressed against his solid chest, getting so hard he might fucking burst on the spot just from that one golden curl that always slips over his forehead (reason #8).

When all the clatter has died away, Stede lets out his breath, and takes his hand away, and Ed’s all out of fight, brain fully gone to jelly. Words don’t matter anymore. He leans in, and takes Stede’s cheeks in his hands, and kisses him.

Stede’s breath rushes out. It’s soft at first, and then it’s not. It’s maybe five of the most awkward seconds of Ed’s entire life, actually, but his lips are on Stede’s and Stede’s staring at him stunned, not moving, and he makes a noise that Ed feels through his mouth, and Ed lets go and steps back abruptly.

Stede’s mouth is hanging open, and he looks like Ed just slapped him.

The panic’s already coursing through his veins, crashing back in like a wave to the shore, and Ed says, “Fuck. Sorry.”

“No.” Stede reaches out and grabs his sleeve before he can turn away. His cheeks are flushed, and he seems like he’s struggling to get a breath in. “No, that was… that was a good start. A good move. An… an orientation, as it were. Before we start this project.”

“Project?”

He nods, almost manages to look decisive. “Before you show me how to do every single thing on this list.”

Every. Single. Thing. All of a sudden, Ed’s grinning again, relieved. “Yeah?”

Stede’s smile is growing, too. “I think so, yes.” He takes a deep breath, lets it out. “Friends with benefits, I think they call it? Or at least that’s what Rupert and Tāne called it in Leaf It To Me.”

Christ. Fucking Christ, Stede’s really taking fics like they’re a manual here. Ed’s so normal about all of this, just so deeply fucking normal that he almost doesn't care Stede went straight to friends and not all the way to lovers. Almost. He shrugs, like he’s not fighting for his actual life here. “Guess it is.”

He sticks out his hand, and Stede shakes it, as if they just had a nice old business meeting in the storage closet, and they didn’t just fucking kiss each other, fucking hell, he’s still short circuiting, brain still screaming mouth! Stede! Lips! Just then the bell goes clanging back the other way, Badminton yelling, “Bonnet? Teach? This is a mandatory attendance situation.”

Ed sighs. "Maybe we should reconvene this later?"

His hope stays afloat as Stede gives a cautious nod, and Ed scrapes his phone up and switches the screen off, dropping them back into full darkness. They wait for Nigel to fade away into the distance and then Ed eases the door open and peeks out. Gestures for Stede to follow, but Stede waves to the floor. “Got my foot a little bit… a little bit stuck in this bucket, unfortunately.”

Ed can’t help the euphoric laugh that cracks out of him, because god. Kissing in a storage closet was never them before, but this kind of mayhem? It’s them all the way through, and it’s a bloody relief to feel that familiarity again, mixing in with all the new. “All right, let’s get you out of there.”

They turn up to the conference room five minutes late, after a Monty Python level of falling over each other laughing trying to get Stede’s bloody hoof out of the bucket, and the whole room goes silent when they walk in. Ed runs a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious, like they can all see it on his face. Maybe they can. His blood feels like it’s on fire, and he can’t imagine his eyes are anything but manic right now, beaming his feelings all over the place, a torch in the dark.

“Good of you to join us,” Nigel says, through gritted teeth. There’s an older man standing next to him up the front, a natty little guy in a very expensive suit that Ed can already see, from the corner of his eye, Stede is judging for quality and fit. “This is Mr. Carmody, and he’s got a very important announcement to make.”

“Carmody,” Stede whispers, leaning in, frowning. “Where have I heard that before?”

Ed narrows his eyes at the guy as he starts to talk, because he knows the name, all right. He just doesn’t know the context of the specific guy standing here, and there are probably plenty of Carmodys across the world. “Not sure.”

“Thank you all for coming along today.” Carmody smiles across at a photographer who clicks off a few frames, and shit, there’s a news camera filming, too. “I’ve had a very lucky life, very lucky circumstances, but as I reach my twilight years it’s important to me to make a difference. I’ve given a lot of long, hard thought to my legacy, and I’ve decided that the best thing I can do for the world is bequeath a significant property to Shuttlecock, for restoration.”

There’s a little gasp around the room, but it doesn’t mean shit all to Ed, so he only looks to Stede, confused. Stede looks back at him just the same way.

Nigel gestures. “If I can get Edward Teach and Stede Bonnet up the front, that would be wonderful.”

Ed stares back at him blankly, and Nigel gives a big jerk of his head, eyes spelling out murder. Fuck him. But Stede tugs his sleeve and starts to make his way up there, and fucked if Ed’s going to leave him alone with that, so he follows.

They’re nudged to shake the old guy’s hand, and Nigel grins at the cameras. “Mr Teach and Mr Bonnet—“

“It’s Dr. Teach,” Ed chucks in, because hey, he rarely pulls the PhD card, but after four years in this place, a little basic respect is not too much to expect. “And also Dr. Bonnet.”

“Doctor Teach and Doctor Bonnet are our senior ecologists, and they’ll be tasked with assessing the property and writing up a conservation plan for it next month. Mr. Carmody has generously provided a cabin and all necessary resources.”

Ed stares at the guy. Stede’s staring at the guy.

“But Nigel—“

“Wonderful,” Nigel says. “There’s afternoon tea in the kitchen, thank you very much.”

Everyone scatters the way they always do when they hear there’s free food happening, and look. Normally Ed would be in there first, making sure he gets his hands on the good donuts if they’ve actually stumped up, but this time he and Stede seem to be in complete agreement. They both stand back and watch everyone else file out, until all the noise has dropped away, and it’s just the two of them left in the high-ceilinged brightness of the conference room. Them, and childhood memories battering around in his brain while he tries to swat them like flies.

Stede turns to face him, biting his lip to hold back a scowl. Reason #11, that lip bite. “Well, so much for the plan.”

The plan, the one they just hatched in the closet, to fuck each other senseless for a month. There’s a fizz of feeling in his stomach knowing that Stede’s still thinking about it, too, before anything else. Not who’ll pick the kids up from school on Fridays, not who’ll water your plants, Edward, not what about all the other work we’ll have to put aside. Just the plan. “Don’t know about that, mate.”

Stede’s brows go up again. “I think, if I was hearing correctly, that Nigel just saddled us with doing… some kind of public arse-kissing of a shrunken elderly capitalist Bond villain, in the middle of bloody nowhere!”

Ed tries not to grin. Doesn’t really manage to hold it back. “I think what he said was, we get a month to ourselves in a fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere.” He gives Stede a significant brow, reaches out and taps his shoulder. “Feel like that lines up pretty nicely with the plan. Enhances all the possibilities.”

Stede huffs out a breath as it computes, and his mouth quirks up in that little sideways smile Ed loves the shit out of, enough to put it at reason number three.

He sees it now, Ed knows. Just the two of them, out there in the wilderness alone. Well, no, the crew’s going to be there on and off, probably, because that’s how these things work. They cycle in and out with their expertise, they write up their part of the report, Ed and Stede pull the whole thing together, and it goes off and… does whatever Nigel wants it to do, whatever that is this time.

They’ve always been aligned in their thinking, and he can see Stede’s cogs turning now (reason #18). “Am I—am I misremembering, or are the Carmody family involved in oil? Mining? Something environmentally destructive.”

Ed nods slowly, trying to remember what he’s heard. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Is that suspicious, a little bit? That he’s handing over his property right after that big spill in the sound? I mean, they haven’t figured out who was responsible yet, but the timing.”

“Bit of a distraction, yeah. Might be something to it.” He eyes Stede up, steps a little closer. “What would Rupert do? Refuse to get involved?”

Out here, where there’s enough light to see his face, Stede’s eyes flutter shut a little at the heat in Ed’s voice. “That depends on whether you want canon Rupert or fanon Rupert.”

“Either,” Ed says, an easy rumble to his voice. “I like every kind of Rupert.”

“Fuck,” Stede says under his breath. He snaps to look at Ed a second later. “Rupert would use his time on that property to suss out anything out of place, and he’d turn it back on said villain, if he found anything. He’d turn it back on Maxwell Corporation, too, if they were complicit, you know?”

Maxwell Corporation, the fictional company where their television heroes met, that turned out to be a front for the villains all along. Technically taken down in season two, but the bad guys are very much still present and active, still getting in the way of the happy ending they all want so badly. “Oh, I know. That’s exactly where he and Tāne would agree, too.”

“I thought they agreed on everything.”

“They do.” Stede’s facing him fully now, looking into his eyes, and he can see a whole new spark there. Ed clears his throat. “Dunno, Tāne’d probably suggest they go back to the broom closet for a minute, just to… you know. Test that the whole arrangement was working first, or whatever.”

Stede nods seriously. “Is that—is that a thing? That it doesn’t work?”

“Not if you get the two absolutely perfect people for the job.” He reaches out and knocks his knuckles against Stede’s and whispers, “To the canopy and beyond.”

He turns and walks, and he already knows, before he makes it past Jackie’s empty desk, that Stede’s going to follow him. Out in the hallway, the laughter from the kitchen is rising up as everyone eats their cheap as shit packaged cookies and drinks their dirt-adjacent coffee and tries to live a little, from behind a desk. Ed yanks open the broom closet door again and Stede’s right there, right behind him, shoving him through.

They don’t bother with a light this time. He’s barely got the door closed when Stede crashes into him and smacks him back against the wall, and their lips meet a second later. This time, this time, it’s what he’d hoped for all along. There’s something about not being able to see each other that makes it that much more heated as Stede’s mouth falls open, desperate, searching against his, and Ed claims it right back. Stede’s hands are yanking at his belt, more forceful, more confident than he’d ever have believed possible. Truly bringing his Rupert game, right? God, they waited almost two entire seasons for the guy to snap and take what he wanted, and when he did, nobody was ready, least of all Tāne.

Ed thought he was ready for this, but fuck, he was not. His jeans are yanked open, shoved down, and he tips his head back against the wall and shoves his fist between his teeth as Stede goes down on his knees, and a second later his mouth closes hot around Ed’s cock.

Ed might, it’s just possible, have a whole new reason #1. It’s going to shove aside the current #1, which is just… Stede. Himself. Being himself. Ed still loves that a lot, but maybe not as much as he loves Stede’s mouth.

Stede sucks his cock like he’s trained for it all his life, like he needs it to survive. And the unexpected enthusiasm has Ed bucking into his mouth for the whole minute it lasts, out of control of his own body, until Stede does some complicated kind of sucking thing and fuck, that’s it. He comes on a low moan, clinging to the shelf behind him as all the ephemera of their daily work rattles and clanks with the movement of his body.

It’s like the aftermath of an earthquake, all the tremors inside him slowly fading into silence. All he’s left with is his own breath rasping in his ears as Stede pulls off him and sits back on the floor, just a shape in the darkness.

“Stede,” he whispers, when he manages to get his breath back. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Stede whispers right away. “Fine.”

He doesn’t entirely sound fine. Ed fights his shaking hands to get himself packed away and zipped up, and then he pats around for a minute before he gives up and sinks to the floor himself. “Stede?”

“Over here.”

Two feet away at best, legs all bent up and in the way, and Ed feels his way over, until he can sit next to Stede. His chest’s still heaving, and Ed wishes like hell he could see his face. “Rupert’d be proud, mate. I’m proud of you.”

Stede lets out a weak laugh. “Well, thanks.”

“Do you, uh. Do you want me to—“

“Ed,” he says. “I’m sorry, I… I got a little too enthusiastic.”

It takes him a second to understand, and he pats out, finds Stede’s damp jeans just as Stede flinches and grabs his hand. “Ah. That, uh. That happens to the best of us, mate, I promise.” It’s so incredibly hot that his dick throbs again at the thought of it. Stede so turned on that he came in his pants just from sucking Ed off, fuck. “You did it right.”

“I did?” He sounds small and uncertain. “I wasn’t sure.”

Ed drops his forehead sideways to Stede’s shoulder, fond. “I just came so hard it nearly put me through the wall. Would’ve been quite the spectacle in the kitchen, me just… Kool-Aid man smashing my way through, bare ass and dick out, and—“

Stede shakes with laughter against his arm, and when he speaks again the warmth is back. “I’m glad you stayed in here with me instead.”

They lapse into silence for a bit, just leaning against each other, and Ed tries to process all of this. This morning he’d seen that prompt list, the starter flag he’d been waiting for to kick off the next phase of all of this, and not an hour later he’s sitting amidst the mops and buckets with Stede, and they are, without a doubt, off and racing. And he’s excited, yeah, but he’d be lying if he didn’t think he was also a little fucking terrified.

“Will this make things weird?” Stede asks softly, reading his mind, like Stede always does.

“Not if we don’t let it.”

Because a month of this, and he knows there’s no way they can come back from that trip just friends. He’s not just going to seduce the shit out of Stede, he’s going to woo him. Make him see just how desirable he is, how wanted, how much he wants Ed in return. He doesn’t want to spook Stede by going too hard, too early, but sex? Sex, they can do, before love is so much as whispered.

It’s inherent in everything he does with Stede, anyway, and he’s going to do his level best to make Stede feel it.

“Good, then,” Stede murmurs. And then he shifts a bit and says, “Would you… would you happen to have a spare pair of jeans?”

Ed chuckles against him and twists far enough to plant a kiss on his temple, the rules of the game be damned. “Got a whole change of outfit in my locker. Want to do something weird?”

He can see the light seeping in under the door now that their eyes have adjusted, just enough to light their feet, and their hands, where they meet on the floor. Stede loops his pinky finger through Ed’s and squeezes. “More than anything.”

So next month, fuck. They’ll both be embarking on the weirdest thing they’ve done yet, and suddenly Ed’s never been so ready for anything in his life.

Reason number two: Stede’s brave as hell. Ed’s going to be brave enough to match him, just the way Tāne’s always matched Rupert.

They’ll be their own kinky tree change, wait and see.

Chapter Text

So here they are a week later, rolling up to a cabin in their company 4WD, and Stede’s peering out over the steering wheel, looking worried. “Is this it?”

“I’d say so, yeah, mate.” It’s the only cabin Ed’s seen in miles, and yeah, look, all right. It’s looking a little worse for wear on the outside, peeling paint on the wood, basic as fuck, just a box with windows. But that is absolutely all they’ll need for this. “Good spot, anyway?”

“I’ll give you that,” Stede says, sounding deeply unimpressed about it, despite the whole environmental vision that sprawls out before them, craggy peaks and wildflower meadows and rolling streams, and—

Ed’ll grant him a little grace, because both of their minds are in other places.

It’s been a long drive from the city, but it’s been fucking lovely, actually. Over the course of several hours they’ve traded driving, stopped for snacks, and they’ve talked, of course, almost non-stop about Tree Change. Months and months of waiting, and of course the trailer had dropped the day after they heard they were coming out here. And since then they’ve gone from famine to all-out flood.

First the trailer, then promotional interviews, an Exclusive First Look in Vanity Fair, new high-resolution images, feature articles, teaser spots. Turns out Max might have forgotten the show for a year and a half, but they’ve sure as fuck remembered it now, and it’s been almost overwhelming.

Stede, for his part, has always tried to be noble about avoiding spoilers for the things they watch. Ed guzzles down every bit of information he can find, so he’s glad that Stede lasted all of a day this time before he broke and had to get on board. Now he’s maybe even more rabid than Ed is about finding new details. They’ve spent day and night for the last month trading links and photos and meta and fics and theories, and now they’re here, still wondering how the fuck this all worked out like this.

The same week the show’s coming back is the week they’re out here doing this, learning their way through every Kinktober prompt together. Who would’ve imagined that kind of timing? They’re three days out from getting the first three episodes now, and it’s getting so real.

“It’s going to be fucking amazing,” Ed says, and he really, really means that, in so many different respects. “Best month of our lives.”

They ease up to the gravel space at the front of the cabin and as Ed climbs out of the truck, the fresh air hits him, and he can only sigh in delight. It’s quiet up here on the hill, and the landscape rolls out behind them down to the ocean and the coast road they just came from. This place, he knows from the maps they’ve spent a week poring over, has multiple different environments represented. The low ground’s got a creek winding through it, feeding a wetland. There’s the beach, right down the end. Up here there’s a rocky hill high enough that he’d like to call it a mountain, but it’s not quite. That’s ringed with forest, and on the far boundary, he’s seen there’s old cleared farmland.

Stede climbs out his side of the truck and comes around with a different kind of sigh, hefting his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s take a look, hmm?”

They climb up onto the wide porch, which has a fantastic view eastward over the mountain—sunrises guaranteed—and the door, even after Ed finds the right key, takes several hard shoves with his shoulder to get open.

Inside it’s pretty bare, but it’s clean. Linoleum floors, plain walls. Ed wanders in and drops his bag in the living room, where there’s a sagging couch facing the world’s smallest television. A wood-burning heater in the corner, chopped wood already stacked beside it. He flops down on the couch himself, grateful to stretch out after four hours in the car. The kitchen opens out behind an orange countertop straight from the 60s, wood-panelled cabinets on the walls, and he hears Stede’s groan of dismay at the sight of them and can’t help grinning. This is Stede’s nightmare, caught in a place without a fashion aesthetic.

And then Stede wanders out of the kitchen and through the only other door, and stops dead. “Ed.”

He levers himself back up off the couch and follows. Over Stede’s shoulder, he can see the bedroom and—fuck.

“Only one bed.” He can’t help the cracking laugh that escapes his mouth as he jostles Stede. “What a start.”

Stede wanders timidly inside and sets his bag on the floor. It’s a basic double bed with a cast-iron frame and a homely patchwork comforter, facing a mirrored wardrobe that takes up a whole wall. A bedside table on each side, and nothing much else. He turns back to face Ed, looking pained. “What are we going to do? I brought a sleeping bag just in case, I can—“

Ed cuts him off before he can start spiralling, by stepping right into his personal space and taking hold of both of his arms. “I’m okay with sharing if you are.”

Because they’ve talked about this plenty in the last week, set all their parameters. There’s not a day of this month that Ed doesn’t plan to have his hands or his mouth on Stede, or their cocks buried inside each other in various ways, for that matter. But he knows, he does, that talking about it and actually doing it are two different things, and they’ve talked about that, too.

“Hey,” Ed says. “If, uh. If you’d rather we sleep in different rooms, I don’t mind taking the couch. Remember the deal?”

Stede nods. “As long as we’re both into it, only until someone’s not, and then we stop.”

“You into it?” He stares into Stede’s face, needing him to see exactly how earnest he is about this. “Because there’s never a wrong time to stop, even before we start.”

Stede responds by sliding his fingers into the front of Ed’s shirt and pulling him closer. “I haven’t thought about a single other thing since that day in the closet.”

He’s leaning in a second later, and Ed leans in to meet him, and then they’re kissing again, for the first time since their agreement, and Stede’s holding so bloody tightly to the front of his shirt that he’s almost off balance. When they break apart again, Stede’s got a whole other look in his eye. “I suppose one bed saves time.”

Ed grins. “Fuck yeah it does.” He gestures around. “Also keeps us warm if this place gets fucking cold at night, which, you know.”

“I do.” Tin roof, no insulation, it’s lovely in here now with the sunlight streaming through the window, but there’s every chance that tonight all that heat’s going to slip straight out and leave them shivering. At least they have the option of being tangled up together, and that thought’s heating Ed from the inside out instantly.

Stede seems to have the same thoughts rolling through his head, because he hasn’t let go of Ed’s shirt yet, and he says, “What’s first on the list?”

God, straight into it, that’s the Stede Bonnet he knows and adores. “Thought we should maybe unpack a little first. See what we’re working with.”

Stede tilts his head. “We can do that.”

Three suitcases later, they’re both staring down at the collection of stuff on the bed. Stede’s got his hands on his hips and Ed’s rubbing his short beard. “Holy shit, you, uh. You brought a lot.”

“I like to be prepared,” Stede says matter-of-factly, and he’s sounding more confident by the minute. Ed’s fucking into it.

There are dildos and restraints and all kinds of shit spread out in there, something for every single one of those prompts, and he turns to Stede decisively. “We talked through our hard nos, yeah?”

“Yes. I haven’t forgotten.” His brow wrinkles a little. “Not doing the prompts that don’t spark interest. No degradation for either of us.”

“No daddy kink.” Hell knows, they both have a few too many negative associations with that. “And we agreed on a safe word.”

Stede snaps a little salute. “Nuclear.”

“Nuclear,” Ed agrees. They’ve already had some of the bigger conversations. Both got tested, both clear. Both happy to skip condoms, and the fact they were even talking about it had Ed absolutely fizzing last week. Now he’s standing here facing Stede, and they can… they can just get into this. Finally. It’s happening. “Kissing still okay?”

Stede’s literally pale with nerves, he can see it, and he laughs. “I just kissed you, you nut.”

“Guess you did.” Ed grins. “So, uh. Day one.”

“Day one,” Stede says, nodding. And then he slaps a hand over his face. “I’ve studied that list inside out and suddenly I can’t remember a word of it.”

Ed steps closer, puts delicate fingers to his hip, and eases his hands away from his face. “Praise kink,” he purrs. “And, uh. Deep-throating.”

Suddenly the pale is gone as Stede’s cheeks flush. “Right. Yes. Oh god.”

“Think you can be good for me?” And then at the look on Stede’s face he says, “That’s the phrase for today.”

Stede lets out a high-pitched little moan, and a moment later he flops to sit on the bed, shoving aside the nearest suitcase and a bunch of sex toys. “Ed, I can’t. I just… I want to. But I’ve never…” He looks up. “I’ve never done that.” His cheeks are a pretty pink now. “I mean I’ve done that the once, but not deep, and I’m not sure—“

Ed tries really fucking hard not to laugh. Just leans down and touches his cheek gently. “That’s what we’re here for, yeah? By the end of this month, if you want to, you’ll know exactly how to suck someone’s cock like a fucking pro.“

“All right! All right.” He tips his head back, laughing, and then he sighs into seriousness. “I’m going to suck your cock a lot this month. Your cock, Ed.”

His cock is taking a very direct interest in this journey, and he has to reach down and shift himself a little to ease the discomfort. “Good plan,” he says, and Stede’s eyes click like a magnet to the bulge in his jeans.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Is that—is that for me?”

Like it’s a gift. Like it’s something he’s been dreaming about, and if Ed’s right, he really has, just as much as Ed’s been dreaming about it. “Yeah, mate, all for you. But I reckon you’re right, maybe deep-throating’s a little too advanced at this stage of the game, so… How about I take that on?”

Please, please, let me get your cock in my throat. Stede’s eyes go comically wide. “You’re serious.”

“So serious.” He proves it by going down on his knees; the left’s been behaving itself lately, so he reckons this is as good a time as any to use it. He pushes Stede’s knees apart, gratified to see just how big his own bulge is right now, and looks up again. “You think you can handle the praise part?”

Stede looks mesmerised, hypnotised. “Right now?”

“No time like the present.” Ed needs to get into this as fast as he can, and he reckons Stede does, too. Get through the nerves. Make it real. Make a start, because once they start, fuck, it’s going to be a task to keep his hands to himself, and he’s never been readier for that.

Stede lets out a shuddering breath. “All right. Yes.”

“Yeah?”

Stede bites his lip and nods, and then Ed watches his face take a whole fucking journey, from uncertain, rambling through to thoughtful, landing on fucking seductive. “Think you can be good for me?”

If he wasn’t already on his knees, Ed would’ve folded on the spot like a house of cards in a stiff breeze, so thank fuck he’s already here, already face to face with Stede’s desire. “I can be the best you’ll ever have.” Stede’s wearing a bandanna looped around his neck, tied in a loose knot, a black one with subtle paisley patterning in grey, and Ed reaches up and unties it while Stede stares down at him, quizzical.

He holds up a finger, and then he makes even more of a show of gathering up his hair and using the bandanna to tie it back in a ponytail that’ll keep the hair out of his face, but it’s not too tight to prevent Stede from getting those thick fingers of his into Ed’s hair when he needs something to hold onto. Because Ed, fuck, well, he plans to make that absolutely necessary.

“Trousers,” he drawls out. “Off.”

Stede makes a sound like a balloon deflating, and then without preamble he reaches down and pulls his belt loose. Unbuttons his jeans, gets the zipper down, wiggles out of them. He’s wearing boxers, such a fucking Stede thing to do, cartoon yetis roaming all over them, and he pauses with his thumbs hooked in the waistband. “You’re sure?”

Ed’s putting everything he’s got into this, lips dropped open in anticipation, the most bedroom eyes he’s ever made. “Extremely, absolutely fucking sure.”

“All right then.” He takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and scoots the boxers out from under his ass, letting the silky fabric slip down his legs.

And Ed’s a little bit stunned out of being able to talk, because he’s dreamed about this moment more times than he can count—yeah, even down to Stede still wearing his white sports socks and his shirt. But his imagination couldn’t have prepared him for this particular cock. It’s thick and long, peachy and uncut, flushed at the tip and beading, and it slaps heavily against Stede’s thigh as the boxers make their exit.

“Everything all right?” Stede asks, a little high-pitched, and when Ed looks up he’s squinting down from one eye, like he’s terrified of the reaction.

He’s not having that. He slides both hands up Stede’s thighs, gentle as anything. “You’re a fucking feast, mate, fuck me.”

“Oh.” He’s stiff all over, every line of muscle in his body tense, folded in on himself. “Oh, well that’s nice to hear.”

“It’s very nice. Nicest cock I’ve ever set eyes on.” He hasn’t stopped moving, and he makes a deliberate show of appreciating the softness of Stede’s skin on his inner thighs, thumbing through the ginger-gold hair there. He tugs Stede a little closer, and the motion makes him tip back a little, planting his hands behind him and giving Ed perfect access. “Going to go slow, okay? Start slow, get deeper. You can hold my hair if you want, get it right down at the roots, not the ends. Anything feels bad for any reason, you call it nuclear and I’ll stop.”

“Okay. Yes. Good. I’ll—“

Ed slides a gentle hand around his cock, the fucking heat of it, the rock hardness, and gives it a stroke. Stede lets out a cracked moan so loud that he’d swear birds lift off from the trees outside, but you know what, it doesn’t matter. There’s nobody here to hear them, and they can be as loud as they fucking want. He plans to hear a lot more of Stede’s pleasure yelled through these walls before they’re done.

That’s all swirling in his chest as he strokes, stripping Stede’s cock back a little, admiring it. “Beautiful.”

“I thought I was meant to be the one doing the praising.” Stede’s staring down at him with deep fondness in his eyes.

“Better get on with it, then,” Ed says, and before he can answer, he leans in to lick a stripe over the head of Stede’s cock, and Stede moans again.

Fuck, he needs to unzip his pants for this, because it’s too much. It’s so much, finally getting to taste Stede’s salty-sweetness. He’s all lavender-scented soap and rich musk, and Ed pushes on, licking him up and down, swirling his tongue around the head of Stede’s cock and into his slit. He presses kisses down the underside of his cock and gives his balls a tender lick for good measure, before he kisses his way back up and sucks the head into his mouth.

“Good,” Stede pants out. “Good, yes, you’re so—“

And sure, they had their moment in the supply closet, but besides that, this is Stede’s first real experience with a man, of any kind. Ed knows that, because they’re best friends and they have been for years. When he’d decided he was theoretically gay at the start of last year, he’d gone on the apps for a bit, but Stede’s Stede. Fussy, finicky, extremely fucking specific about what he likes, and he’d never ended up meeting anyone at all. He’s never found it yet, and it makes Ed feel some kind of way that Stede sees it enough in him to want this, even if it’s just for practice.

Whatever. Ed’s ready to blow his mind so hard that he can’t touch anyone else again in his life without thinking about this month. And so he opens up and takes Stede deeper, deeper, pressing his tongue against the underside of his cock as he goes, loosening his jaw and opening wider.

Stede’s breathing hard, chest heaving, and the next minute his fingers are lacing gently into Ed’s hair, and he’s pushing up a little, edging his cock further into Ed’s mouth. If it weren’t so full, he’d be grinning.

“Oh, Ed,” Stede says, suddenly sounding so much more sure of himself. “You’re so pretty like this.”

He lets out a little moan of his own, because fuck if that one didn’t hit right between the ribs. He presses deeper, feeling Stede’s cock nudging at the back of his throat.

“God, look at you. You were made for this.”

He nods, and he’s not sure the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes are all because of how fucking big Stede is.

“Show me,” Stede murmurs. “Show me just how good you can be.”

Ed breathes through his nose, takes a couple of good lungfuls, and goes for it. Tilts his chin to just the right angle and swallows Stede down as far as he can take him, and Stede, fucking hell, Stede’s fingers tighten in his hair, and then he pushes further, rocking his hips, fucking Ed’s throat. He takes it, gulping around the intrusion, until he has to pull back and take a big gasp of air.

“God, sorry!” Stede yelps, letting go of his hair. “Ed, are you all right?”

“I’m good,” he says hoarsely. “Mostly good.”

“Mostly?” Stede’s hands are on his face, wiping away the flood of tears, and his eyes are so full of concern that Ed straightens up and presses in and kisses the guy.

It gets wet and filthy, fast. Tongues sliding together, frantic and fast and sloppy, and when he breaks away Ed says, “Wasn’t enough.”

“Wasn’t enough?” Stede says, disbelieving, and his cock twitches where it’s resting against the underside of Ed’s arm.

He lets a feral grin crawl onto his lips. “Not nearly.”

Not nearly, because fuck, he’d been aching, desperate, every thrust of Stede’s cock into his mouth another gasp-inducing bolt of lightning that went straight through him, mouth to his own cock, a direct line. And now he’s had enough of a chance to shove his jeans down over his hips, and his briefs, and he pulls his own cock out and hears Stede’s breath stutter again.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Mm-hmm.” He laughs, and then he clears his throat and says it all formal. “Stede fuckin’ Great Cock Bonnet. Please. Please fuck my throat until you come, while I get myself off.”

He squeezes his eyes shut again, like the sensation’s too much to stand, and Ed feels him on that. “Yes. All right. Good.”

There’s nothing more either of them can say. Ed sinks back onto his cock with a moan of happiness, and Stede’s fingers lace back into his hair, and then fuck, he goes for it. It’s a ride and a half, Ed hanging onto Stede’s bare calves as Stede uses his leverage to thrust into his mouth, and in a minute he’s gone boneless and blank with it, drifting into the warmest, sweetest space as each jerk makes his own cock rattle in his fist.

“Ed, oh my god. You’re so good for me. Oh, you’re taking me so well.” Ed’s got just enough conscious thought to huff a laugh at Stede pulling out lines he’s only ever read in fics, but it’s cut off by another deep thrust of Stede’s cock into his mouth, and the line between theoretical and practical gets that little bit more smashed.

He can feel the tension in Stede’s muscles, the twitch in his cock, hear the way his gasps are getting erratic, and he’s ready when Stede goes suddenly still and thrusts deep enough that Ed’s nose is buried in the swirl of gold hair. Stede pulses hotly down his throat, so deep that he doesn’t taste a drop, and that’s enough to make Ed’s hips buck as his own climax rushes through him, sparking and dancing in his veins while he ruts into his palm and spills all over the floor.

They’re both gasping for breath when Stede pulls out, and Ed slips forward and plants a hand on the linoleum, suddenly grateful for a wipe-clean floor, because fuck, that might have been the first time he spills here, but he knows it won’t be the last.

“Up,” Stede says, as hoarsely as if he were the one who just had his throat fucked. “Up, please, come up here.”

Ed lets Stede lever him up off the ground, and they collapse back onto the floral comforter together, both laughing. When Stede’s hand drifts across and finds his, between them on the bed, it’s not weird to take it, right? It’s not weird to be lying there with his pants shoved down past his hips, softening cock out, holding his best friend’s hand as they both catch their breath after an incredible fuck.

“That’s not my middle name,” Stede says at last, and it’s so left field that it sends Ed into an instant fit of giggles.

“Fuck, sorry, mate, I must have misread it on your driver’s license.”

“A common mistake,” Stede says solemnly. “Graham and Great Cock get mixed up all the time.”

He rolls over onto his front, propped on his elbows. “Your middle name is Graham?”

Stede rubs both hands over his face, laughing, and he looks so relaxed, so bright and so free that Ed’s heart does a little flip in his chest. He put that look on Stede’s face. He made Stede happy, and there’s nothing he wants more than that.

“It’s much more boring than that, I’m afraid. It’s Bartholomew.”

“Bartholomew. That's not boring, that's fucking wild for the 21st century. How did I not know this before?”

“I suppose it never came up!” Stede rolls onto his side, too, so they’re facing each other. “I swear that Rupert and Tāne had this same conversation at one point.”

“They did,” Ed says. “Season one, episode three, when they kinda realised they didn’t know as much about each other as they thought.”

There’s a loaded silence there for a minute as they ponder the same shit before Stede says, “We’ve got time. All the time in the world. What’s your middle name?”

Ed bites his lip, because fuck, he’s maybe been sitting on that one, a little bit. “You’ll think I’m fucking weird.”

Those brows of Stede’s go up. “Oh? Maybe I will.”

He slaps Stede’s arm. “Fuck you.”

“I’m sure I’ll like it, though.”

He laughs, sliding into a sigh. “All right, so—I’m not weird. Fucking promise. But, uh. It’s part of the reason I got into this show, you know? We all talk about feeling seen, but there’s no more feeling seen than really fucking seeing yourself in there. Knowing they get where you come from, because it’s kind of how I ended up in this job at all, just like him, and—“

“Edward.” Stede’s got that look in his eye that says he’s figured it out. “Are you telling me that your middle name is—“

“Tāne, yeah. Edward Tāne Teach.”

“Oh my god.” He rolls onto his back, letting an arm sling out dramatically. “Oh my god, I had my own Tāne here all along. God of the forests and the birds.”

“That’s me.” He snorts. “Not me, but my mum liked the environment, you know? Named me after that, and I guess I leaned into it, under her influence.”

“I’m so glad you did,” Stede breathes. There’s so much affection on his face that Ed wants to roll on his back like a cat in a pool of sunlight. Stede doesn’t miss a thing. “I liked that, getting to tell you how good you were.”

“Yeah?” His lips twitch. “I liked hearing it. Maybe next time I can tell you, when I don’t have your cock in my throat.”

“Oh,” Stede says. “Oh, you don’t have to—“

God, and there it is again, Stede’s lingering doubt that he’s worthy of this. Ed shuffles closer, until he can press a knee between Stede’s thighs, loop an arm around his waist, really press in there and kiss him until he shuts up. “You deserve to hear it, too. You’re fucking amazing.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it back out again. “Well. Thank you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

Both of theirs, for as long as this lasts.

They stay like that for a few minutes more, Ed letting his fingers wander up and through Stede’s curls, Stede inspecting Ed’s lips like they hold the mysteries of the fucking universe, until suddenly his fingers still and he looks up, wide-eyed with panic. “Oh god, we haven’t even tested the signal yet.”

Ed rumbles out a laugh. “Priorities.” Yeah, they need the signal to stream the show onto a laptop. And yeah, they need to know that exists before either of them can rest easy.

Still, Stede lets out a happy sigh. “I even put you before Tree Change, how about that?”

It shouldn’t mean as much as it does. It’s just a TV show, right?

It’s so much more than a TV show to both of them, and it’s now also so intrinsically woven into the story of who they are, and who they are to each other. It matters, and it’s not an incidental part of this month at all. It’s everything. “Let’s go make sure we’re all present and accounted for in this house.”

Edward and Stede and Tāne and Rupert, all where they belong.

~

The rest of the afternoon passes in a satisfying kind of rush as they get all the equipment unloaded and set up. The signal is strong, despite the remoteness of this place; the dish wedged on the roof must be helping with that, and it’s an enormous relief that swipes a fair bit of Stede’s tension away. Not all of it, because the closer they get to the release date, the higher his anxiety is building, but at least they know they won’t miss anything.

He takes the time to hang up all his clothes in the mirrored wardrobe; they’re not fancy for fieldwork, but he likes them to be ready all the same. Ed leaves his neatly folded in the suitcase and slides that into the bottom of the wardrobe, too, in their bedroom.

God, their bedroom, the thought’s still sending flurries of nerves skittering through Stede, and he has to keep suppressing those.

They pack the fridge and the freezer with all the cold supplies they brought, and Ed whips up a basic scrambled eggs on toast situation for dinner. Stede lights the fire, and they eat sitting in front of it in their pyjamas, Stede in his favourite matching cotton set, Ed in comfortable plaid pants and an old t-shirt that does very little to hide the gorgeous soft lines of his body. They chat and laugh for hours, play a couple of rounds of Scrabble, limit themselves to increasingly ridiculous Tree Change-themed words, and when the night’s wound down outside Ed sighs.

“Guess it’s time for bed.”

“Indeed.”

Ed shuffles off to the bathroom to brush his teeth; Stede sits on the side of the bed and waits his turn.

He’s trying very, very hard not to feel anxious about this. It’s just sleep. It’s just a bed! He and Ed have, in fact, had many sleepovers over the years, often curled up on the couch after falling asleep in the middle of a movie, once or twice even in Ed’s bed after a big night with friends, sticking to their respective sides. But none of those times had ever happened after they’ve blown each other’s minds like this.

The thing about Stede is, he’s not an idiot. Not all the time, anyway. He’s taken a considerable amount of time to figure himself out, but he’s almost, almost there. And as Ed knows very well, Tree Change was helpful for that, because Stede certainly saw himself in startlingly distinct brushstrokes in Rupert.

But Ed might not realise that nothing has awoken Stede quite as much as Edward Tāne Teach himself.

It started when Stede first joined the company, fresh from his divorce, looking for a new start after leaving his old job. The only other environmental consultancy firm in town had been the Badmintons’ place, and he’d absolutely not had any desire to work for them, but Mary was still working at the old firm in her capacity as a soil specialist, and he’d committed to making this as easy as he could on her. His father had been happy to pull some strings to get Stede out of his hair.

So voila. He’d been employed by Shuttlecock. He’d been a bundle of nerves on his first day, standing on the doorstep twisting his hands as he tried to summon up the courage to face Nigel again for the first time since their university days, and a couple of unpleasant conference encounters since. He’d already pressed the buzzer several times, but nobody seemed keen to let him in.

And it was then that the most beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on—all flowing hair and beard—had nudged past him with a muttered apology, a bundle of mail clenched between his teeth, and beeped his access card against the door. And instead of just walking by like several others already had, he’d held the door open for Stede and gestured for him to come through.

Warm brown eyes, smiling above the paperwork. Tattoos winding down his golden arms, and oh, Stede had almost stood there dumbstruck, unable to move a muscle in his body. But he’d managed to compel his feet to move, and the moment he’d slipped in through the door, the man had winked at him and dashed off to do something else, not even a hint of his name.

They’d managed to circle around each other for that whole first year, somehow. His name was Ed, he knew from peering at his desk or listening to him chat in the break room, and he was often out in the field then, before all their research funding had been cut and the work had been reduced to desktop more often than not. He was always surrounded by others, the life of the party, the one they all wanted to talk to as he spun out exciting tales around the water cooler. Stede was the one lurking on the perimeter, listening to the way he liked his tea, seven sugars and a dollop of milk, wishing he could find a way to overcome the paralysis and just talk to the man.

They’d circled around each other constantly, and Stede had eventually committed himself to putting his head down and getting the work done. And then the first season of Tree Change had aired, and if he’d been drawn to it because Tāne reminded him so much of Ed, that was his own business. It had been life-changing, watching the two eco-pirates dash through life and death situations, always supporting each other. And at the end of the first season, when they’d finally admitted their feelings and kissed, Stede was so overcome with happiness for them that he’d cried.

The very next day, wearing his Elm of Wisdom pin in the office, Ed had wandered past and whispered the most devastatingly lovely line of the whole season, and that was it.

They’d become friends. Best friends. God, he’d never anticipated meeting anyone in his life who’d made him feel so wholly like he was a worthwhile, interesting person. When he’s with Ed, he doesn’t have to mask his enthusiasm or hold himself back or pause over every sentence to parse how it sounds, and whether he’ll take it with the right intent. He can just be himself, and for the first time in his entire life he actually likes himself.

He likes Ed so, so much. And their story has become so intertwined with that of Tāne and Rupert that it had taken a good long while, yes, but a year ago they’d been watching the season two finale, and the pirates had confessed their love for each other, and it had felt, for an instant, like someone had hit a bell with a giant hammer in his head.

It had taken him several sleepless nights and several days of agonising over it before he’d told Ed that he thought he might be gay. And Ed, to his credit, had been calm and kind about it, and he’d nearly, nearly managed to keep the little smile off his lips. “You think?”

He’d huffed out a breath. “That’s not quite what Lucius said, but it’s not far off.”

Ed had squeezed his shoulder, and then after a moment of hesitation, he’d pulled Stede into his arms instead and given him one of his patented incredible hugs. Warm and solid and lighting up nerve after nerve throughout Stede’s body, an absolute electrical storm of feeling, and he’d been so incredibly close to pulling back and saying, and I think I’m in love with you, actually.

And then Ed had murmured in his ear, “Proud of you, mate. I’m sure the right guy’s out there just waiting for you.”

Record scratch, as Alma likes to say. Brakes screeching, alarms blaring, because oh, oh, Ed didn’t feel the same way. Ed didn’t even consider it, not for a moment, just nudged him immediately in the metaphorical direction of someone better suited, as if there was anyone in the world who could match him better than Ed.

The last year has been… painful. He’d signed up for Grindr, deleted it after the first half dozen dick pics without ever starting a conversation. Perhaps some of the men behind the dicks are absolutely lovely, but it’s just a continuous reminder that they’re not what he really wants. That’s right in front of him, every single day. They’re both so passionate about the show that they’d both started writing fics about it, and while Stede’s stories had been very tender and chaste for the first couple of years, Ed’s had been brimming over with tension, emotion, and god, the hottest sexual scenarios Stede’s ever encountered in his life.

He’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit reading Ed’s stories and taking care of himself to the glow of the phone screen. He can’t, he cannot read Ed’s Tāne and not picture Ed in his place, and when Ed writes about Rupert, well. Rupert is already very much like Stede, a cheerful blonde scientist with what might politely be described as a lot of quirks. But in Ed’s hands, he comes to life in a whole new way. He’s dashing. He’s brave. He wrinkles his nose in a very particular way that the actual Rupert hasn’t really done so much, but it’s a way Stede’s caught himself wrinkling his own nose fairly often.

Is Ed… is Ed thinking about Stede when he writes the two of them into these scenarios? Because Stede’s certainly imagining them together when he reads them, and by now he must be three hundred orgasms deep in that particular fantasy. He’s even started writing it himself, with an increasing amount of confidence that he’s sure is utterly unearned, though his readers certainly seem to enjoy it.

It’s why when Ed asked him to collaborate on a Kinktober story, he had to say yes. He had to. This is the first chance he’s ever had to show Ed through their words how well they can really go together. Not just imagined versions of themselves, Stede writing Rupert’s point of view, Ed writing Tāne’s, but this. Here. Now. Co-authors. Co-captains. Collaborators.

Standing in that broom closet last week, with the blue light of the phone so reminiscent of all the nights he’d spent gasping out his release to Ed’s words, he’d been absolutely sure that he’d seen the same spark in Ed’s eye.

I can show you. I can help you.

This is his chance.

Stede’s always wanted to be as brave as Rupert, but he’s truly never had that much opportunity to show it. After all, how many evil corporations are truly out there, posing as environmental champions while they secretly work behind the scenes to support destruction instead? How many maniacal billionaires are really dumping toxic waste into pristine landscapes, certain they’re too clever to be caught? The most exciting thing they usually work on is things like mitigation of waste-water leakage; Stede focusses on monitoring the flora, Ed on water quality, and that rarely comes with the chance to sweep anyone off their feet.

But this? Now? This list of things he’s only ever dreamed of, and Ed offering to help him learn them? Taking this chance is his moment for true bravery, and he’s going to face up to it every single day and show Ed that this is so much more than friendship, what they have.

He’s sure Ed sees it. Ninety-eight percent sure. But Ed’s too precious to him to risk hitting him with the desperate need Stede feels just yet. It’s been too much for everyone Stede’s ever known, and the day he becomes too much for Ed is the day his life might as well be over.

“Stede?” He looks up to find Ed leaning in the bathroom doorway, arms folded, staring at him with a soft smile on his face. “In your own little world there, mate. Your turn.”

“Thank you,” he says, slapping both palms onto his thighs, pushing himself to stand. “Minty freshness, here we come.”

He makes it past Ed without his face igniting from the heat that’s rushing through him (fool, god), but Ed’s fond chuckle is all he needs to let out his breath. They can do this. He can sleep all night in a bed beside Edward Teach and survive it, no matter what’s ahead of them tomorrow.

~

Tomorrow, he wakes up disoriented, as he usually does in a new place. There’s bright light pouring in through the thin curtains, and the birdsong outside suggests that it’s quite early. And he’s no longer on his side of the bed; no, sometime in the night he’s managed to sprawl his way over to Ed’s, and like a particularly needy octopus, he’s wrapped around Ed, arms and legs entangled, Ed snoring lightly into his hair.

Well, shit. So much for staying cool and calm about it; even in his sleep he gravitates toward Ed, a law of nature unto himself.

He attempts to disentangle himself without waking Ed up, but the moment he shifts his arm and goes to lean back, Ed’s arm tightens around him, and he mumbles something in his sleep that sounds very much like Stede.

Well. All right then. He pauses where he is, lets himself feel this. A hand pressed to the flat of Ed’s stomach, breath lifting and falling through him. Warm, so incredibly warm. He smells wonderful, just… so Ed, all woodsmoke and spice. Stede’s walked past him in the office for three years now, always breathing him in, like there’s some kind of essence about him that’s pure pheromone to Stede.

He’d dreamed so often of what it would be like to tuck himself up against Ed like this, to embrace him wholly, fully, to just love him, god, Stede’s long since stopped pretending that it’s anything else he feels. He loves Ed with his whole heart, and if there’s any luck in the world, Ed will be able to feel that in everything they do this month.

Last night had been a good start, after Stede’s first act of bravery last week. Something about the darkness of that closet had broken him out of his fear and let him go down on his knees, listening for every gasp and moan and catch of breath as he finally, finally got his hands on Ed’s cock and was able to taste it. Ambrosia. He could survive on that alone, he’s sure.

But yesterday was the first time he’d been able to see Ed, look right into his eyes as Ed swallowed Stede’s cock down. Blissful, he’d looked, even with tears pouring down his face, and there was no way Stede could help himself. He’d have been pouring out praise even if it wasn’t the prompt.

He’s already peeked at today’s list, and there’s a twist of anxiety in his stomach about it.

“Morning,” Ed murmurs, arm tightening around him even more. For a moment he presses his nose into Stede’s hair and breathes him in, and sighs happily. “Fuckin’ unexpected perk, this.”

“What? Waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to appreciate the birds screaming at the sky?”

The rumble of Ed’s chuckle vibrates through his cheek where it’s resting against Ed’s chest. “No, uh. Waking up all wrapped up in you. Don’t need an electric blanket to keep warm, you’re a furnace.”

“Is that… is that a good thing?”

“I run cold,” Ed purrs. “Need a lot of warming up.”

For the first time, he dares to put his head up and meet Ed’s eyes, and the same desire’s there as yesterday, heavy-lidded and heated. “Oh.”

“Mm.” Ed bends down and kisses him, and Stede’s pulse takes off hammering. They agreed to this, they did. Kissing was part of the equation, a normal exchange of affection in between mandated sex acts, no, that doesn’t sound very good, agreed upon, inspired sex acts. But there’s something so tender and intimate about it that it feels like an entirely separate thing.

When Ed leans back, the words come tumbling out of Stede’s mouth. “I don’t want to cry.”

Ed blinks at him. “Cool?”

Stede grits his teeth, because that was sorely lacking in context. “The prompt for today. There’s… there’s mutual masturbation.” One of these days he’ll manage to say it without the blush flooding his cheeks, but today is not that day. “And… crying.”

Ed huffs out a laugh. “Ah. Yeah, I guess… I guess in fiction, sometimes it’s a little hot when our guys feel so much they can’t keep it inside. I dunno, like… crying’s not inherently negative, is it? Sometimes you come so hard you cry.”

“Do you?” It comes out faintly, because Stede can’t say that’s an experience he’s had. “You don’t have to be upset?”

“You can be overjoyed. Relieved. But mate, if you’re not feeling it, we don’t have to do it. Nobody’s grading us.”

“Wouldn’t that be something.”

Ed shifts a bit to face him, hooks his thigh over Stede’s, and Stede can’t help but feel the hardness that’s already rocking against his. “Mutual masturbation, yeah?”

“Does that… does that mean we take care of each other? Or… ourselves, simultaneously?”

“Either,” Ed says easily. “Whatever you like.”

“I haven’t really planned.”

Ed chuckles. “Yeah? Mr Plotting Spreadsheet, winging it for once, huh?”

“Well, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He presses a fond smile against the thin fabric covering Ed’s shoulder. “We’re still planning the fic. Not all of us are instinctive geniuses who can spin out an entire narrative on the spot.”

“You’re plenty good at narrative, you just need it set out first. Valid approach.”

“Thank you.” It’s one of those points of difference between them that’s somehow always made them even better suited to each other, like they each have strengths to match the other’s weaknesses.

“What exactly are we going to write, anyway?”

It’s Ed’s turn to let out a little groan. “So much fucking scope. We could do a bunch of one-shots to match the prompts, I guess?”

“Or pull it all together into a longer story.” Each of them has their preferences; Ed’s chaptered stories are utter brilliance. Stede’s one-shots tend to emerge fully formed, hitting directly at what he wants to say in a way he’s not sure a long-fic could. The fact that they’re each thinking about the other warms him thoroughly.

“I dunno, like. Are we going to include all the prompts, if we’re trying them all out?”

Stede laughs heartily. “Nobody would be that insane. I think we try them all out to see which we like best, and include those, hmm?”

“Yeah, fair.” He strokes the regularly misbehaving curl back from Stede’s forehead. “So, uh. Scenario? Modern, historical?”

“Historical,” Stede says decisively. “What if we sent them back to the Golden Age of Piracy? Let them put their eco skills to a real test.”

“Fuck yeah, that’s a solid idea.”

They talk it through a little more, lounging in bed until the sun’s risen higher, and they can’t ignore the day anymore, and they agree to plot it out a little more as they work today. There’s breakfast in the living room, toast for Ed, muesli for Stede, and then they shuffle around getting dressed, sliding easily past one another, coordinated as they’ve always been.

Outside on the front porch ten minutes later, Stede breathes in the mountain air and lets it out. “Well, that’s a bit different in the morning, isn’t it?”

When they’d driven up yesterday, he’d been thoroughly distracted by thoughts of all they were going to do here. He’d noted the mountain, yes, reaching majestically into the sky, and he’d registered the presence of the field, the wooden cabin, the woods behind it, the ocean down the hill. His brain had ticked all the assessment boxes, the various habitats, the vegetation ranges, but it had otherwise been occupied with all the other specifics. Ed. Beside him. Ready to take him into that house and take him apart, and that was exactly what had happened.

But here in the morning sunlight, the field that rolls out between them and the mountain is so much more complex; not a cleared meadow, but a scrub plain, rolling bursts of yellow and orange flowers almost glowing under the bright blue sky, and he feels his breath rush out at the sight of it.

“It’s beautiful,” Ed murmurs beside him, and when Stede turns, he’s not looking at the field at all. Just leaning against one of the posts, eyes fixed on Stede.

He clears his throat. “Suppose we’d better get the lie of the land, then, hmm?”

Ed drives today. They’ve spent the last week all but memorising the map of this place, and Stede could walk the boundary in his brain alone, no trouble. He’s got the whole thing visualised, every track. But Ed’s the one who can get in the vehicle and feel it out by instinct, turning to follow tracks that seem to have disappeared under vegetation, and Ed’s the one who’ll keep them on track.

They set off, Stede with the GPS on his knee, camera wedged beside his thigh on the seat as they rattle over the rough terrain. “Feel out the boundaries first, yeah?” Ed says. He’s wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, silvering hair tied back in a loose bun, tight black t-shirt over his jeans, and Stede keeps stealing glances at him.

“Good plan.”

It’s their standard angle of attack, check out the full span of the place they need to assess before they focus down into each specific environment that’s represented within it. This property has a somewhat unusual diversity of landscapes, but it’s a fulfilling challenge to keep track of it all. Different skills needed; Stede’s might be in vegetation and Ed’s might be in water, but they work together well, and they always have. Over the next four weeks different crew will be in and out, testing other things- air, soil, geology, fauna, any cultural elements that might need protection.

For now, it’s all theirs, and another glance at Ed sends a thrill through him. This particular world is their oyster.

It takes them a couple of hours to track along the southern fenceline until they meet the beach, a private little bay with packed yellow sand. The creek and the swamp are behind that, and then they skirt the forest across to the northern boundary and follow that back up to the mountain. The actual property ends somewhere across the peak there, but they’re not likely to venture up, unless a good reason presents itself at any point.

They meander back down, up again and down again in vehicle transects, Stede taking notes and marking waypoints the whole way, Ed navigating fearlessly over mixed terrain. By lunchtime, they’ve made it back to the edge of the beach, and it only takes a shared glance for them to agree to stop there.

There are sandwiches in the cooler, bottles of iced tea, and donuts as a treat. They know each other well. They climb up onto the roof rack and settle down side by side, staring out over their domain as they down their lunch.

“Friends to lovers,” Ed says suddenly, just as he gets to the last bit of his donut. He pops the lurid pink pastry in his mouth and sucks a little frosting off his thumb, and Stede forgets to chew.

“Mm?”

“The story. Think we should roll with a classic friends to lovers situation. Maybe the forced proximity trope.”

Stede can feel his brows crawling higher, because that is… their situation here, isn’t it? Forced proximity, stuck in the same place until they’ve got no choice but to fall for each other. He manages to gulp down the last piece of his own donut, chocolate frosting for him, and meets Ed’s eye. “There’s only one bed?”

Ed grins so widely that it’s like the sun coming out all over again. “That’s a given, yeah.”

The day’s a warm one now the sun’s blazing overhead, beaming down on them, and there’s sweat trickling down the back of Stede’s neck. “Perhaps there’s a snowstorm.”

Ed lets out a hoot. “In the Caribbean?”

Stede leans in, conspiratorial. “Maybe it’s a haunting.”

“A ghost ship. Brings its own fog. Huddling for warmth.”

“Exactly.”

“Think I’ve read that one before, mate. Fucking loved it, but… maybe we try for something else.” He looks up to the lone cloud that’s tracking overhead, scrunches his nose. “What about a kidnapping?”

Stede hums. “Might be getting into interesting territory, trying to sandwich all the kinks into that.”

“No, no, they’ve… they’ve been grabbed by some fucking pirate captain they both hate. Vane or whoever.” Ed’s always loved his real pirate history, and this isn’t his first AU in that zone. “But they’ve already escaped, and now they’ve got to make their way back to the crew.”

“And they can fuck nasty the entire way.”

“Now you’re talking.” It’s not just the heat of the day that’s making his blood simmer now, because Ed’s leaning back on his hands, looking at him with frank interest. “Where’d you think they might get to mutual masturbation?”

Just like that. He talks about it so easily. Maybe Stede will be there, too, by the time they’re done with this. He glances around them, and is seized with inspiration. “Perhaps they… they find themselves on top of a carriage.”

“Oh?”

“Mm. Lots of room on top of those. Nobody would suspect they were up there, following the governor back to his mansion to set the rest of the crew free.”

“Ballsy.”

“That’s our boys.”

“And they’re… getting their dicks out on top of the carriage?” Ed squints at him. “I mean, good for them, yeah, but—“

“Maybe the carriage driver parks it in the stable, wanders off. They’ve got half an hour to wait until the ball—“

“Until the ball?” Ed’s grinning at him now, and he shifts a bit. “Go on.”

“It’s a masquerade, obviously.”

“Where’d they hide their costumes?”

“Oh, they’re going to steal some.”

“Makes sense. So—?”

“So they’ve got half an hour to kill. They’ve been desperate, all that danger, all that—“

“Proximity, yeah. And the snowstorm.”

Stede’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “That too. But it’s warm in the stable.”

Ed shifts a little closer. “And there’s nothing else they can do. Maybe they should get off the carriage, I don’t know, but—”

“Don’t want to risk getting caught.” He reaches out, emboldened, and touches a fingertip to Ed’s chin, traces through the short beard. He loves Ed like this, even though he loved Ed’s long curls before he shaved the beard off last year, right after the cliffhanger finale of season two, when Tāne got left at the docks. “Rupert wants Tāne all for himself.”

Ed’s eyes flutter shut. “Fuck. Yeah, okay, I’m feeling it. So, uh—“

“So they kiss a bit, probably.”

“Probably.” Ed shuffles the rest of the way over, twists to face him. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” He bends in a moment later, and they’re actually getting the hang of this, aren’t they? Stede lets his mouth fall open, welcomes Ed in, and it’s just like breathing. They kiss for a long while, nothing around them but the quiet, the soft hush of the waves meeting the shore in a matching rhythm with their breathing, the trees bending in the breeze.

“And then?” Ed murmurs, still touching his chin.

“I want you to touch yourself.” Open his mouth, let the words fall out, it really is that easy, isn’t it? “I want you to open up those trousers for me, and get yourself out.”

Ed almost scrambles to comply, twisting to unbuckle his belt, unbutton and unzip his jeans, wiggling them down only far enough to pull out his cock, already fully hard. He’s breathing fast, staring down at himself as he strokes a couple of times, and then he looks up at Stede again. “Now you.”

This is even more fully visible than they were yesterday, no longer inside, but out here in the wilderness. How many times has he imagined this kind of thing over the years? Laying Ed out in a meadow of flowers, fucking him up against a tree, rolling not in the sand but on a towel, probably, because nobody wants sand in the cracks. Floating in the ocean together, fucking in the back seat of the 4WD when they just couldn’t contain themselves any longer, and now here they are, actually doing it.

He works his way through his fasteners quickly, slips the cargo pants down a little, and gets out his own cock. Like this, seeing them both in the same space, he can see the differences between them. Both uncut, the head of Ed’s cock flushed darker than his, less thick but longer, and fuck, angled just a little to the left, in a way that so many fics have assured him would hit just right.

Oh, but they’re close to so much more now, aren’t they? He looks up at Ed, already tugging himself in tandem, and Ed says softly, “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

The prompt, oh, yes. Use your words. Mutual masturbation, each of them sitting here stroking themselves off, watching the other as they do. And… crying. He doesn’t think crying is going to be a thing here, not the way he’s feeling now.

“Imagine it’s my hand on you,” Stede says. “Imagine you’re Tāne, you’ve been wanting this for so long, and here you are with Rupert, and—“

“I can’t touch him. Not yet.”

“No. Because—“ All of a sudden all of his excuses are flittering about, impossible to grab, none of them sounding like they make any sense at all. “Because Rupert wants more for him than this. He wants silk sheets. He wants the softest bed on earth. He wants to worship Tāne—“

Ed’s stroking faster now, the cords in his neck straining as he puts his head back. “You can worship someone anywhere, mate.”

Even here, sitting on top of a vehicle in the middle of the wilderness. Where better, in fact? Under the glory of nature, the whole world a stage to show each other just how they feel. “Can I touch you? It doesn’t—it doesn’t make narrative sense for Rupert not to—“

Ed wheezes out a laugh. “Fuck yeah, you can touch me. Make that narrative make sense, Stede.”

The only thing that makes sense is for him to crawl closer, to swing his leg over Ed’s and position himself on Ed’s lap, where he can reach down and grab hold of Ed’s cock. He gives it up easily, reaching out to take hold of Stede’s instead, and Stede lets out a moan into Ed’s mouth as they kiss again, slick and filthy. He jerks Ed the way he’d jerk himself, short and sharp, but Ed’s hand slides easily over him, setting a slow, steady rhythm.

Even when they don’t match, they do. He’s moaning within moments, the heat building steadily, impossibly, perfectly, Ed’s hips shifting up to fuck into his fist, both of them a writhing mess by the time Ed starts panting. “I’m close. I’m close, I’m—“

“You’re everything,” Stede whispers, and watches Ed’s eyes go liquid amber in the bright sun, brimming up immediately.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this.” It’s true, every single word of it. “Let go, Ed.”

He does, putting his head back and letting out a cry that echoes out over the sand, stolen away on the afternoon breeze, spilling hot over Stede’s hand. Stede’s release punches through him a moment later, folding him over as Ed keeps tugging him through it. There’s something about this, an infinity loop of pleasure, each driving the other over the edge, each giving and taking in return, that feels utterly molten.

Ed lets him go with a shaky breath and pulls back, reaching for a napkin to wipe his hand clean. “Fucking incredible. Hope Tāne manages to stay quiet.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s very skilled at that, and if not… I think gagging was a prompt on one of the other days?”

Ed’s brow shoots up. “Yeah? Like, silencing someone with a gag, or gagging on their cock?”

He tries for coy. “I suppose we’ll find out when we get there.”

He’s never anticipated anything quite so much in his life as he’s looking forward to more of this. There’s so, so much more discovery to go, and he already feels himself melting into this reality, knowing that he gets to have it for real. He and Ed, out here bringing each other every kind of pleasure they can summon up.

He goes Ed one better; driven by some instinct that’s latent, perhaps tattooed into his brain by the hundreds of stories he’s read, he lifts his fingers and eyes the pearly slick of Ed’s come. He looks up and finds Ed staring up at him, wide-eyed, and no time like the present, hmm? He puts out his tongue in a way that he hopes is thoroughly seductive, and licks the come from his fingers, one by one, like it’s the best thing he’s eaten all day.

Ed’s eyes go even wider at the sight. “You’re a dark horse, Bonnet.”

“You have no idea.” He has no idea, either, but fuck, he’s finding out. Turns out there’s plenty of room for growth when you let yourself stop being afraid. He hopes that lasts a long, long time beyond this, but he’s ready to start now.

He slides reluctantly off Ed’s lap and lets himself slide back to lie on the roof, arms behind his head, staring up at the sky.

A moment later, Ed flops down and joins him. “Did you cry? I thought I was going to cry.”

“I didn’t,” Stede says. “Maybe Rupert did a little bit, though, in my head.”

Ed chuckles. “Does it count if it’s in your head?”

All these months of willing Ed to take that final step and see him, every feeling he’s had about this man. The love, the care, the desire, it might not have been spoken or acted on until now, but it’s been so very real. He bites his lip; he feels the moisture welling up before a tear slips free, and Ed gasps.

“I think it counts,” Stede says roughly. “I don’t suppose there’s a time limit?”

Ed reaches up and nudges the tear away with the back of his finger. “Never too late.”

He hopes, he hopes that’s true. Staring into Ed’s eyes like this he can see those feelings reflected back, he’s nearly certain of it. But every time he goes to say something, he locks up, thinking about how good this is, how much he loves it, what a terrifying thought it is that Stede Bonnet—a man who’s ruined everything around him more times than he can count—might get to hold this and then lose it.

He doesn’t think he could survive that.

Maybe he’s not brave enough just yet, actually. But oh, he’s working on it, just as surely as Rupert is. “Two days to go,” he says, and Ed puts out his fist, and Stede bumps it the way Rupert always does with Tāne.

They’re all going to have to be so much braver soon.

~

Ed wakes up the next morning with a very Groundhog Day kind of vibe. Same room, same too-bright sun streaming in through the pale lace curtains on the window, same Stede wrapped all around him, like he can’t stand to half-ass a single minute of the time they spend together. In his sleep, all Stede’s inhibitions seem to go out the window.

But hey, Stede seems to be making some good fucking progress toward letting those go when he’s awake, too, and Ed’s starting to feel like the luckiest guy on the planet. Stede’s always been determined as hell, but having that attention turned on him is like standing in front of a million watt laser beam of horny energy, and Ed’s living the goddamn dream.

You’re everything, Stede had said yesterday. Just let it slip out, and maybe he was putting on the Rupert vibes, or maybe he really meant it, but fuck, it had lit Ed’s body on fire in an instant. It still bolts straight to his cock when he thinks about Stede’s voice going all low like that.

What it’s doing to his insides, he’d rather not think about yet. Just the idea that Stede sees him like that, fuck, it’s… it’s a lot. He can hardly dare to hope.

It’s Ed’s turn again today, and he’s been waiting for this one. Saw it on the list last week, felt a whole shiver of anticipation at the permission it handed him. Lingerie. He’s had his eye on a particular set for a long time, and yeah, he wears it from time to time, but not often. Having the excuse, knowing that it’s going to melt Stede’s brain out his ears? He’s been looking forward to it more than he can say, even moreso now.

It’s sitting there in his suitcase, all neatly folded into a zip-up bag, and now he just has to come up with the scenario. He could take them outdoors, pose himself up nicely on the beach or something. But this feels… more intimate. More homely. More something he can’t quite put his finger one, except that he knows he wants to ruin that fucking lingerie like he’s always been the kind of person who can wear something fine for one day only. Get another set to replace that one when it’s soaked in his come, and hopefully Stede’s too.

Later, he promises himself. Tonight, he’s got a whole fucking plan.

They concentrate on the swamp today, divvying up the tasks. Stede goes about recording the species of trees and the plants that ring the outside; Ed focusses on taking vials of water from different parts, labelling each neatly, nesting them into their transport rack. Between the two of them they get through the work efficiently, just the initial phase, but it’s good to tick it off.

It’s a good solid day of work overall, and by the time they get home, Stede looks as exhausted as Ed feels, and he’s starting to wonder if this is actually going to work out for them. If they’re too tired, they’re going to miss a day; if they miss a day, that either falls off the list, or the list starts to go down like a line of dominoes.

And it’s all right if that happens. This isn’t meant to be some kind of bootcamp. It’s meant to be fun. So they’ll keep going as long as it’s fun, and if that ever stops, well, they’ll just find their way back to that idea sometime in a future Ed’s convincing himself to believe is real.

“Ed.” Stede’s voice floats out from the bedroom door, snapping him out of his reverie, where he’s sitting in a post-work daze on the couch.

“Yeah?”

“Your turn in the shower.”

There’s something smaller about the way he says it, and Ed gets himself up and goes over there, paying him close attention as he passes. “You okay?”

Stede’s eyes are a gorgeous colour, shifting with the light. You never know if you’ll get more brown, more gold, more green, more opaline sparks of blue. Right now they’re more brown, and uncertain. “Today’s prompts.”

His pulse ratchets up a little. “Mmm. Just thinking about those myself.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t bring anything to prepare.”

Just like that, Ed’s tiredness falls away, and he reaches out to pinch Stede’s ass as he passes. “Lucky for us, I did. Why don’t you go get dinner started, and I’ll be out in a few minutes?”

He walks away to the shower, his last sight of Stede those eyes blown wide in anticipation.

He takes his time, actually, letting the warm water flood over him, scrubbing off the day’s work. One of these days they’re going to have to get in here together, and he doesn’t know what prompt they’ll use for that, but he’ll happily figure it out when they get there. Right now, he towels himself off, scrunches his hair a little drier, and eyes himself up in the mirror. He could wear a hessian sack and Stede would still give him those eyes, he’s pretty sure. Not that he’s vain about it, he’s just—he’s so aware, all of a sudden, of how Stede watches him with that same level of attention all the time. He doesn’t know if Stede’s even half as aware of it himself, but it’s a constant warm glow under his breastbone, a feeling of contentment. Every day it burns a little warmer.

He makes his way out into the bedroom and roots through the suitcase until he finds the lingerie bag. Thank fuck for the mirrored wardrobe, because it lets him slide the garments on and check himself for fit. Very fucking satisfying, yeah, and for good measure he sits on the side of the bed and slides on a pair of black stockings, tied with actual ribbon garters. Golden Age of Piracy, take that. He hasn’t brought any shoes, isn’t so keen on those, but when he stands again and twists to inspect himself, he’s feeling it. It’s all black, but the camisole’s got winding purple tentacles cinching in the waist, shaping him up, criss-crossing over his chest. The material’s translucent, his nipples standing out behind it, and the matching panties are the same. His cock’s already half hard, caught in the little net, and he knows that one look at Stede looking at him is going to have it full and leaking.

“Game on,” he murmurs to his reflection.

He goes out into the living room and finds Stede in the kitchen, clattering as he digs through one of the ancient cupboards. “I’m looking for a frying pan. I don’t suppose you’ve—“ The words die on his lips as he stands and catches sight of Ed, and fully fucking drops the pot he’s holding.

The clang of it rattles through the cabin, and Ed tries to stifle a laugh as Stede dives for the floor, retrieving it, slapping it onto the counter, planting both hands. “What are you wearing, Edward?”

Ed does a fancy little pivot. “Think it’s pretty obvious.”

“It’s beautiful,” Stede breathes sincerely. “Utterly stunning. Can I—“

“You can cook dinner, mate.” Ed gives him a big wink and turns away, cocking his hip a little as he goes so that Stede can’t help but check out his ass. “Your turn.”

It has the desired effect. Stede’s never been really graceful in the kitchen, and that’s part of his charm. He’s cute as fuck stumbling over himself, as long as the knives stay on the board and away from his fingers, and the boiling water stays in the pot, and yeah, okay, Ed might be putting Stede’s life in his own hands here, because he’s twice as clumsy as usual.

Ed sinks back onto the couch and pops his stockinged feet up on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles, and Stede lets out a quiet curse as something else clatters to the floor. There’s a stack of ancient magazines on the table, National Geographic, and Ed picks one up and flicks through it, whistling to himself.

Stede makes it through the prep without damaging himself or the kitchen, and he actually manages to produce a meal that smells pretty good. Pasta with mushrooms, by the smell of things.

Dinner’s quiet, sitting at the little table. Ed keeps catching Stede’s glances, the way he can’t keep his eyes off the twisting lines of the tentacle motifs, and now and again he reaches out his foot to bump Stede’s under the table, making him jump every time. They talk idly about their theories about the second season of the show, which again, they’ll be seeing the first three episodes of this fucking week, and Ed goes on a long tangent about a new spider plant Fang’s watering for him, and minute by minute he can see the muscle in Stede’s jaw twitching a little more with tension.

It’s fucking great. He’s having a little too much fun.

“Incredible dinner, thank you. I’ll do the dishes.”

He scoops up the plates before Stede can argue and stands, turning away, and he doesn’t miss the way Stede’s breath catches at the sight of his ass under all that sheer fabric.

He fills the sink and makes a good amount of noise with the plates, humming to himself, but Stede doesn’t take the bait. Doesn’t follow him in there, grind up against his ass the way Ed was maybe a little bit hoping he might. He just goes over to the couch and sits, looking up occasionally with dark eyes. There’s something about being watched like that that makes the heat start to simmer in his veins. He can feel Stede’s want from here, and by the time he’s stacked the last plate in the drainer and dried his hands, he’s back to half-hard and so fucking ready to get into this.

He wanders back into the room and makes a show of leaning against the door, seductively draped over the frame, voice dropped low. “Need an after dinner drink?”

Stede bites his lip as his eyes track down Ed’s lace and silk encased body. “I think I could do with one, yes.”

“Coming right up.” Ed saunters on by, brushing a hand over Stede’s shoulder as he heads for the cabinet under the window. Behind him, he’s aware of Stede shifting on the couch, and he pokes through the limited collection of liquor they brought with them until he comes up with a pretty decent looking brandy. Finds a single glass that doesn’t look too chipped and pours a healthy slug into it, carrying it back over with a swing in his step.

He doesn’t set it down, though. No, he plants himself in front of Stede for long enough that Stede looks up and catches sight of his cock under the lingerie, and his breath stutters. And then Ed makes slow, deliberate work of climbing onto his lap, settling his knees on either side of Stede’s hips, glass in hand. The reverse of yesterday, but now he’s in the driver’s seat.

Stede’s breath rushes out of him as his hands go to Ed’s waist, fingers delicate against the lace there, and Ed grinds down against him, finding him rock solid.

“Rutting,” he says conversationally, and Stede stares up at him with oil-dark eyes.

“What?”

“The other prompt for today. Rutting.” He rolls his hips again to make the point, and Stede gasps. “But, uh. Drink first.”

He doesn’t give Stede the glass. He just takes a long pull from it, fills his mouth with spiced liquor, and then he bends in. Sees the understanding register on Stede’s face the second before their lips meet, and Ed lets the brandy flow through. Stede swallows it, absolutely gulps, and breathes like he’s just run a race.

“Ed,” he says hoarsely. “Jesus Christ, Ed, I need—“

“Mm?”

He’s starting to lose control, hair a loose mess, lips parted. Ed runs a thumb over his bottom lip, watching his mouth fall open. He leans forward and licks into his mouth, and Stede’s hands tighten on his hips as he moans into the kiss.

“I need you. I need you to—“ He’s shifting his hips up, trying to make contact with Ed, but Ed holds himself just far enough back that Stede lets out a huff of frustration and reaches between them.

Ed tips his head back and slugs down the last of the brandy before leaning back, a long, long stretch rodeo cowboy style, and depositing the glass on the coffee table behind them. When he swings himself back upright again—and shit, fuck, nearly tweaked something there, very cool about it—Stede’s slumped back against the sofa, staring at him in awe while he tugs at his belt.

Ed slides a firm hand over his. “Didn’t say you could touch yourself, mate.”

“Fuck,” Stede says succinctly, and his hips jerk almost involuntarily, a couple of little circles in the air. “Ed, please.”

Ed plants both hands on Stede’s incredible tits, still hidden under his t-shirt, and runs them slowly down until the pebbled nubs of his nipples are under Ed’s thumbs. He circles them slowly. “If I give you a bit of friction, you can get yourself off. Okay?”

Stede nods, looking wrecked. “Anything. Anything you want.”

Fuck, he could get used to Stede’s voice like this, low and fractured and begging. He slides the rest of the way onto Stede’s lap, until the hard line of his cock his pressed against Stede’s, and he has to bite back a moan of his own at the heat of it, the satisfaction of the slide through their clothes. There’s a solid damp patch on Stede’s trousers now, matching the one that’s cooling in the evening air on the lace of Ed’s panties.

“Hands up here,” Ed says softly, and he nudges Stede’s arms up, until they’re looped around his neck. Foreheads together, then, Ed rocking in Stede’s lap, Stede grinding up to meet him.

They don’t say much after that, just push their bodies together on repeat, until they find a kind of rhythm in the dance. Stede’s body is solid under his, his hips moving at a frantic pace that Ed can only match, getting more and more lost in the feeling, until every cell in his body has turned toward that point of connection. Still separated by layers of fabric, and somehow just as close as they’ve ever felt.

Stede’s taking sharp breaths now, his breath warm between them, his thighs trembling under Ed’s. “Oh god. Oh god, I’m going to—“ He breaks off with a shout as his hips jerk up one last time, and the perfect friction against Ed’s cock blows all of his fuses and tips him over the edge, until they’re almost writhing together as the warmth spreads between them.

When he can fucking think again he peppers kisses across Stede’s forehead, down his cheek, and Stede tips his head back and laughs, giving Ed the space to kiss his tree trunk of a neck for a bit. Languid, slow licks over his hammering pulse, until Stede sighs and squints up at him.

“You’re so wet for me,” he says, so sultry that it glitches something in Ed’s brain, and a moment later he starts giggling, and then he can’t fucking stop. The third prompt for the day, and they sure as fuck are wet for each other now, soaked in come, and he’s ruined the hell out of these panties. Enjoyed every minute, too.

“Nailed it,” Ed says. “But yeah, maybe another shower.”

Stede goes a little stiff under him. “Together?”

He’s not going to let his face show the way that thought hits him. Just clears his throat a little and says, “S’pose we could. Might save water like that.”

“Very environmentally friendly,” Stede says, but his hands are back to rubbing quick circles again. “Maybe… maybe tomorrow.”

They’ll unpack that one another time, but Ed just nods. He meant it when he said they’ll stop anytime they need to. “Sounds good, mate.” He lands one last kiss to the side of Stede’s lips, and then he slides off. “You want to go first?”

In the end, Ed goes first, and Stede goes after. It takes them maybe another half an hour before they’re tucked up in bed together in the dark again, and Stede’s breath is still coming through tense. There’s moonlight spilling through the window and absolute silence outside, out here in the middle of nowhere.

“You okay?” Ed whispers, kinda dreading the answer.

“Yes,” Stede says immediately. “Yes, I’m good. So good.”

They’re face to face, half a foot apart, not hugging. God, Ed wants to hug him. He settles for reaching out a hand and finding Stede’s between them. Giving it a squeeze. “You did good today. You’re so fucking good.”

A little laugh. “I do my best.”

“Your best’s amazing.”

They fall quiet for a little while, for long enough that Ed thinks maybe he’s gone to sleep. But then Stede speaks again. “I’m afraid, Ed.”

He holds his breath for a second, for as long as it takes to get his wheeling instant fears back on a leash. “Of what?” His laugh’s shakier this time, and fuck it, Ed shuffles closer, until he can slide an arm around Stede’s waist. “I’m here. We’re here together.”

Stede nods. “I’m afraid of getting it wrong.”

“Literally fucking can’t, I promise.” A second later it hits him that he doesn’t know what Stede meant, whether he’s just talking about them fucking, or writing this story, or doing this job, or what. All of it?

Stede hums a bit, sounding sleepier. “I’m afraid of them getting it wrong. Tomorrow”

That takes him a second to click. “Oh. Tree Change?” Fuck, he’s been so focussed on Stede that he’d forgotten they were this fucking close to the new season. Tomorrow, holy shit.

“Mm.” Stede nudges Ed’s nose with his, and in the dim light, Ed can see his eyes have drooped shut. “I care so much about all of them. We’ve waited so long. What if it’s… what if it’s not as good as before? What if they do something so terrible that it can’t be taken back? What if people hate it?”

“Can’t please all the people, all the time,” Ed says. “And hey, nothing’s perfect. Nobody’s perfect, not even Aiyana.” They’ve all put a shit ton of their mental wellbeing in one Hollywood show runner, that’s for sure, and she’s carried it incredibly for two seasons, but nothing’s guaranteed. “What we’ve seen in the trailer looks good, yeah? That’s a good start. We’ll always have the first two seasons. And for anything else, this show gave us each other. Our own crew. We’ll have each other if we need emotional backup.”

He waits for Stede to say something in reply, but all he gets is a soft snore, and he can’t help smiling. He loves this man so fucking much, he’d do almost anything to make him happy.

Tree Change makes Stede happy. And yeah, there’s a chance that the shit’s going to hit the fan in such a way that they’ll all have a damn hard time with it; he’s seen enough hints to suggest that.

But that’s what they write for, isn’t it? That’s the other half of this story, and it’s why it’s number fifteen on his Stede list, too: Stede’s a great fucking writer. Ed trusts him maybe more than anyone.

We make our own happy endings, he’d told Stede a long time ago, when Stede was thinking about writing his first fic. That’s the plan, no matter what happens tomorrow, and he’s not only talking about the story.

Tomorrow, fuck. They’ve waited for such a long time, and they’re almost here. Same’s true for them as much as it is for the show. They’re all about to become their true selves, hit the end of a journey. But that’s just the start of a new one.

Whatever’s coming is almost here.

Chapter Text

The sharp bleat of the alarm spears through Stede’s consciousness and brings him awake with a great startled gasp. He slaps around on the bed until he manages to hit the phone, the Stop button, and then he wills his pounding heart to calm, not to much avail.

Ed has somehow not even twitched, despite the noise. He’s sprawled across his side of the bed, face turned away, hair a twist of silver curls in the morning light, and it’s time. It’s time. They’ve waited for so long, every bit of anticipation stretching longer and longer, and now, just like that, it’s here. His phone reads 6:48, and there will be new episodes beamed onto the laptop in twelve minutes exactly.

Stede catches his breath and takes a moment to sit with his own feelings, the way his therapist would advise. Anxiety, yes. There’s a lot of that. Excitement, which can so easily tilt across the same line, feeling bad instead of good. Sometimes it’s hard to parse which is swirling through him, but that’s all right. All feelings are valid, all feelings are fine. There’s some fear laced into it, definitely.

He’s not sure it’s all about the show.

Ed snorts in his sleep and rolls back, arm flopping over Stede’s waist, and it sends another thrill through him. Ed sleeps naked. He’s naked. Stede’s staring at his naked body, the swell of his pecs and the jut of his hip, his cock nestled between his thighs.

That cock is going to be inside Stede’s body tomorrow, and all of a sudden the anticipation of Tree Change feels like nothing in comparison.

He cannot think about that right now, and he almost laughs at the thought. If someone had told him two months ago that he’d have to tear his attention away from something else to concentrate on Tree Change he would have considered them mad. It’s fine. They’re fine. They’re all going to be great.

He nudges Ed’s arm, and when that fails to bring him awake, he’s seized with the inspiration to lean in and kiss him. Ed’s eyelids flutter open, and he’s unfocussed for a moment before Stede smiles. “Hello. I think we’ve got some eco-pirates to see.”

Ed’s grin is instant and brilliant, eyes scrunching. “Fuck yes, let’s do this.”

~

They stay tucked up in bed for it, because why move? It’s toasty in there, and Ed likes to be warm. It also means he can curl up fully with Stede, with all the new permission they’ve got to just… touch each other, fuck, he’s been looking forward to that so much that it hardly feels real.

It’s real. Really fucking real. Stede wears a t-shirt and boxers to sleep, and Ed’s thrown on a pair of briefs so that he’s not just dick out in front of Tāne and Rupert, hello. But he’s not putting anything on top, because it’s too nice getting to feel the silkiness of Stede’s fancy fabric, not to mention his skin, his hair, pressed up to Ed. Ed’s thrown an arm around him, got him snuggled right in there, and he’s got the laptop across both of their legs—not the widescreen he wants for this, but the only option they’ve got out here. Something about it feels almost more intimate, like they’re connected directly to the show.

Stede’s… tense. Really tense, shoulders rigid, breathing fast, and Ed gives him a squeeze as they wait for Max to load up. “Hey. You okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” Stede burrows a little closer against him. “Yes and no? It’s so much.”

“It fucking is, yeah.” Sometimes Ed wonders how people are normal about this shit out there. Do they not have things they love so much it makes their chest hurt? Can they think about other stuff for more than five minutes of the day without their favourite media sneaking into the old brain box? Have other people got things they’ve waited for this hard for an entire year and half of their lives? And now the wait is over. “We’re here. We’re ready.”

“We’re not ready,” Stede murmurs against his chest, fingers worrying little circles over his navel. “We’ll never be ready.”

“Yeah, it’s happening anyway, mate. Only thing for it is to—“

“Dig in, yes,” Stede groans, because Ed’s actually fucking great jokes about their favourite fictional soil scientist always get him like that. “All right, Tāne, on we go.”

Ed snorts as the spinning cursor finally, finally opens up onto the familiar Tree Change page, all the glowing green of the usual branding offset by blue ocean for this season’s key art, because this season, they were all sure even before the reviews started to give hints, has to have the end of Rupert’s father’s undersea oil exploration in play. They all know he’s up to more shit than that, and now they’ll finally find out what.

And there’s—

“No new episodes,” Stede says, pained. The third season tab is there, but the only thing under it is the trailer that they’ve both already watched like, ten times. Fifty maybe. More? Ed lost count a while back. “Refresh it,” Stede says, voice tilting higher. “Refresh, refresh!”

“All right, all right, there’s still one minute to go, they’re being exact.” The moment the number clicks over to the hour, he taps the refresh button, holds his breath, and—

“There it is!” Stede shrieks. “Go, go!”

They’re up there, the first three episodes. They’ve known the titles for a week, thanks to a weirdly placed reveal from GamesRadar, of all the places, and they’ve seen the stills that illustrate each one before, released in various exclusives, but there’s still something about seeing it there, right there, ready to watch, that almost breaks his brain.

Ed’s phone buzzes at the same moment, beside him on the bed, three texts lighting up in quick succession.

Jim J: VAMOOOOOSSS

Spriggs: LET’S GO GAYS

Roach: It’s time! Don’t forget!

Stede’s hand is creeping over to the touchpad, and Ed stays it with his own. Waits til Stede looks up at him, and then dips over and kisses him softly, until his breathing comes steady again. He nudges Stede’s nose with his own, rubs a thumb over his cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

He nods unsteadily, and Ed hovers over and clicks on Episode One: Run From Me.

~

It takes a little more than the hour and a half runtime for them to get through the three episodes, because as much as they both want to gulp them whole, they have to pause for a minute or two between. Once for Ed to go get them each a cup of hot, sweet tea while Stede goes to the bathroom. Another time so that Stede can type a frantic screed into the Discord server where he hangs out the most; Ed’s not so big on Discord. His zone’s Twitter, and he’s been firing off the occasional brilliant observation, all spoiler covered and tagged, he’s not a dick.

But they haven’t had a minute to talk to each other about it, because they’ve been so glued to the action.

And Ed, well. Ed’s fucking reeling.

“Christ,” Stede mutters eventually, wiping tears off his cheeks with the heel of his hand as they sit in front of the frozen final frame of the last episode. “God, I didn’t… I didn’t know it was going to get that dark.”

Ed’s read the reviews, scoffed a little at the ones that wondered if too much angst could dull the comedy. And it didn’t, right? That was pretty fucking funny throughout, but he has no idea how, when he’s still trying to process what the fuck just happened.

Tāne, reeling from the rejection he thought the kidnapped Rupert had committed, had gone all the way off the fucking deep end. Like, all the way. Troubled, Rupert had called him. Like a wild dog, Keith had said, right after Tāne blasted a hole in the side of the ship and sent Sam overboard, right before Aisha and Zola and Tui teamed up to fucking poison him to death.

Everything else feels a little less funny in the face of that, because Tāne’s grief had been a roaring storm, and it had brought to the fore everything they’d hinted at these past two seasons. All at once.

Stede’s voice is small. “I’m glad we got all three episodes together, at least.”

“Yeah.”

Yeah, because this is a romance, they keep saying. This is only the beginning of the future for them, not the ending, and so they’ve known nobody was really going to die; we don’t bury our gays, we lift them up high, show-runner Aiyana’s said more than once. But if Ed had had to watch Tāne die like that at the end of Episode 2, at his absolute rock bottom, without knowing for sure that Rupert was going to find him, find a way to fix this, he might have fucking lost it.

Stede’s waiting for him to say something, he realises, and he’s got no words. “Fuck.”

There’s the smallest snort of laughter from Stede. “Fuck, indeed.”

He slides out from under Ed’s arm at last and sits straighter in the bed. “Well, I liked June and Arun and Tui! I thought they were great additions to the cast. And they’re together again now.”

“I’m sure that’s going to work out just fine,” Ed says, and then they both suddenly get a fit of the giggles.

It’s not funny, it shouldn’t be funny. In the space of an hour and a half of viewing time and a week in the Tree Change world, Tāne’s actions have cost Keith his arm, traumatised the shit out of everyone else on board. Driven them to try to fucking kill him, his friends, and if that’s not the elephant in the room, because Tāne wanted them to kill him. Tāne wanted to die, chased it desperately, only thing between him and oblivion the fact that he couldn’t do it himself.

Ed just watched the character he’s identified with more than any other in his entire life move from passive suicidal ideation to an active attempt on his own life, death by crew-mate (and storm, and explosives, but whatever).

“I didn’t know they were going to go there,” Stede says, reading his mind. And the thing is, Stede knows Ed, and Ed knows Stede, and they both know why it’s rocking through them like a shockwave.

Oluwande once asked me if I wanted to live, when we got the 4WD bogged on that remote property, and all I could say was, I think so! Probably! And that was the first time I realised that I didn’t actually know the answer, and it felt very much like I should.

That conversation had prompted Stede to go to therapy, and he’s worked really fucking hard on all of his shit. Ed’s proud of him. Ed’s proud of himself, too, because he’s had that conversation with Stede before as well.

Do you ever feel like you’re treading water, just waiting to drown? Sometimes it’s all so fucking boring that I used to think, maybe I should try dying. Haven’t tried that yet. Can’t feel fucking anything now, maybe I’ll feel something then.

He’s worked equally hard on himself, taken the medication and talked the talk, and they both know that it’s an ongoing journey, because they both started it in similar places, despite their differences. Shit dads, Ed’s physically abusive, Stede’s emotionally brutal. Isolation, loneliness. They were both different to other kids in their own ways, which make sense on paper now—ADHD, autistic, just unique ways of looking at the world and brains that won’t stop spinning.

Before he had a name for all the extra electricity in his head, Ed channelled that by getting into all kinds of shit at first, and then after his dad died, he finally felt less like the only options were watch the world burn, or die trying. He channelled the hyperfocus into study instead, punched through school, undergrad, masters, PhD, became the best at everything, until that in itself got boring, and then—well, then he’d been questioning how it was worth feeling that smashed down all the time, and whether it’d feel better to just… give up. He’d swung so hard back into his destructive tendencies that Izzy had finally cracked it and left, opening up a gap at the company for a new ecologist.

And then this bright blond disaster had stumbled in through the office door one morning to fill that empty space, because he’d also found his escape in the environment, and all of a sudden, Ed found a new reason to get up the next day, and the one after that.

Together, they’ve found a community of friends who are all in love with this show, and who all have things in common. Mostly queer, lots of neurodivergence, lots of loneliness, but just like the Tree Change team they’ve been brought together by Rupert and Tāne, and fuck. Fuck, there have got to be a lot of people out there feeling the same way they do right now.

“It’s a lot,” Ed says, and it doesn’t feel like enough to sum up just how fucking much it is. People are out there, hopefully looking after themselves and others, but they’ve got each other. He reaches down and squeezes Stede’s hand. “At least they’re together now, and so are we.”

Together in every way, through this, through the rest of that list.

“I suppose we’ve got some plot to reconsider,” Stede says, and it’s so snippy, like this show was ever going to do anything but surprise them, that Ed almost cackles.

“Yeah, mate. Stories always do that, go and change on you before you know it.”

Breakfast is what they need, and then a day out in the field, and a fuckload of talking. Bit by bit, they’re going to work this all out. It’s always been more than a show to them, but this is the final season, the promised happy ending, and they’d hoped they were just going to get it.

But it’s never been like this show to hand them anything without having to do the work first, and they’ve never been afraid to do it.

~

It’s a good day’s work, once the shock of the new content begins to wear off. Like standing in a desert for a year and a half, then getting dropped directly into the ocean, no time to acclimatise between. Stede had felt it very physically, the horror, the joy, the fear, the elation; he truly has been through every conceivable human emotion in the space of one morning, and in the wash-up hours later he feels… numb to it, almost. Overwhelmed, at the least, tapped out now. He can’t stop thinking about it and he can’t think about it anymore, a very healthy little standoff in his brain there.

It’s a blessing, he thinks, that they’re out here away from the real world. He can’t keep refreshing Facebook, he can’t lurk on Discord, he can’t watch the show four more times in a row, which he did strongly consider this morning. He just has to sit with it, and process it, and talking to Ed about it is the best way he’s ever known to do that.

So they work, and they chat. They stop focussing on all the awful things the crew went through, and start to appreciate the parallels, the themes, the symbolism, god, the creators of this show are brilliant, and they’ve always trusted fans to see what they’re doing. By the time they roll back into the cabin in the late afternoon, he feels like the initial adrenaline is out of his system, actually. They’ve moved rapidly from unknown to known, and now they’re on the way to this being part of their existing ecosystem, not an intruder.

In fact, the longer they’ve gone through the day, the more his focus has been pulled back to Ed, and everything on their list. It’s something, that, because the only comparable thing he can think of is Tree Change, the way it’s seeped into his marrow and become so central to who he is.

Ed’s like that, too. Already.

They’re four days into this trip, and Stede already feels like a new person. He’s never allowed himself this kind of open want before, and he’d thought, before they came out here, that perhaps it would get to be too much. Exhausting, repetitive, he’d… he’d maybe run out of come? Not that it’s exactly the sort of fear Stede would have come up with himself, but when he’d confided the plan in Lucius, he’d put an impressed hand to his chest and said, god, you’d better pack some Powerade, or else—and punctuated it with a little shrivelled pinch of his fingers that made Stede shiver.

So yes, he did pack Powerade. He’s got an entire crate of it in the shed, which Ed had side-eyed briefly and then nodded over, saying it was sensible to stay hydrated.

And hell, he’s so gone that even that, spoken in Ed’s low tones, had shot directly to his definitely not over it yet cock. He stands on the porch now as the sun sinks behind them, watching as Ed washes down the window of the 4WD, scraping it clean of the tiny gnats that tend to splatter all over it as they drive the tracks down toward the wetlands. Ed’s not wearing a shirt, just his jeans. Barefoot, dancing to a song that’s pulsing out of the car’s stereo as he tosses more water from the bucket over the windshield, stretches to swipe it with the squeegee, and oh, fucking hell.

There’s not another thought in Stede’s head, for the minute. Brain empty, just Ed.

Ed has to know what he’s doing. He has to know the way the muscles are bunching in his shoulders, the way the tattoos flex over them with every move. He must be aware that as he leans across the hood, he comes up with water dripping off his bare chest, running in lines down through the dark hair on his stomach.

And he is, Stede’s sure, because just as he’s adjusting an almost painful erection, Ed spins around, hair flying over his shoulder as he flicks it, and says, “Oh, hey. Didn’t see you standing there.”

Stede arches a brow, hanging onto the post for modesty. “Well, here I am.”

“Great.” He stands for another minute, dripping sponge in hand, and then he says, “Guess I’d better have a shower.”

“Yes, good. Of course. Yes. I’ll just—“ He gestures vaguely over his shoulder before he turns to go inside, decidedly not looking back as Ed strips down the last of his clothes and heads for the outdoor shower, not the indoor one, the setting sun lighting him in glowing orange.

Stede has to catch his breath when he gets into the bedroom, because everything is laid out for this evening already, and he’s been pacing with increasing need. He’s also checked the list for today and the next couple of days several times over, and there’s enough on there to have him vibrating all over again with anxiety about this, now that this big hurdle of the first new episodes is past.

Today is shibari, and he’s been ready for that for a long time.

Tomorrow simply says, anal sex and spanking, and oh, he’s not sure that he’s prepared for either of those. So far, they’ve only undertaken very external things with one another. Yes, he’s come every day for three days, and so has Ed. He’s had Ed’s cock in his mouth and vice versa, they’ve touched one another, they’ve spoken filthy words into each other’s mouths and they’ve kissed and kissed about it.

But there’s something about the thought of them letting one another into their bodies that makes him shiver with anticipation in a whole new way. That’s something he’s never tried before, and it’s something he desperately wants.

He’s getting ahead of himself. Today is shibari and edging, actually, and this, he considers, has been something of a quiet masterclass in edging from Ed, before he even really noticed it. Just walking around and… and working all day, right in front of Stede! Being himself! Looking, like that! There’s a moment in the second episode of the first season of Tree Change where Rupert walks clean into a pole because he’s too busy staring at Tāne, and Stede truly understands it now. If they weren’t here, doing this, he’d never have made it past the office bathroom without having to let it out.

But they are here, doing this, and before he can spiral any further, the creak of Ed’s footsteps sounds out in the hall, and Stede stands straight and tries to look extremely casual about it all.

That lasts for as long as it takes him to process the fact that Ed is still entirely naked, towel slung over his shoulder, braiding his wet hair as he wanders through the door.

“Oh,” Stede says, an absolute paragon of smoothness.

Ed looks up and catches his eye, and grins. “Hey.” And then his expression falters. “Fuck, sorry, probably should have asked if you were okay with this.”

“Ed.” He tries not to laugh, he really does, but it bubbles out anyway. “Thank you. I appreciate you checking in so consistently, I really do. Please don’t stop. But also…” He takes the offered motivation and closes the distance between them, circling around behind Ed, trailing a hand over his bare skin, still damp. “You know we haven’t actually done any of this while fully naked yet?” He makes it all the way around to Ed’s front, fingers still wandering, brushing over his cock as it starts to plump up. He meets Ed’s eyes, and there’s a frank amusement there. “I think we should change that.”

Ed slides his towel off his shoulder and tosses it back out the door, advancing on Stede and pushing him backwards until his calves hit the bed and he drops to sit, Ed still crowding down over him. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Oh god. Ed’s looking at him with an expression that could very nearly strip him with eyes alone, and Stede, well. He’s not going to back down from that, no matter how many hang-ups he has to shove down to meet the challenge. He’s not wearing a lot, really. Just a t-shirt that he struggles to strip off over his head, and then shorts, which he shoves down with his underwear, best not to overthink it.

He’s panting by the time he kicks the last leg of the shorts off his foot and looks up. Ed’s still standing there, his expression almost hungry. He breathes to calm himself and leans back, letting Ed’s gaze rake down over him.

“Fuck,” Ed says succinctly. “Fuck, look at you.”

“Nothing special, I know, but—“

Ed moves incredibly fast to crowd back over him, pushing him down onto the mattress, climbing directly onto his lap. “You, mate, are fucking gorgeous.” He’s got his hands planted on Stede’s chest, and he lets them swipe through the chest hair there, pausing to tweak each nipple, watching his face for a reaction with every movement. His hands are warm, fresh from the shower, and he strokes gently down Stede’s sides, redirecting instantly when he twitches, a little ticklish. Considerate, so thoughtful, so kind, Ed always has been.

Stede promptly re-evaluates that thought when Ed reaches his cock and strokes that equally gently, squeezing as he goes, and then flicks his gaze up and says, “Look at that. Do you think they know you’re gagging for it?”

Stede groans and slides both hands over his face as Ed demonstrates with a couple more strokes, the slick sound loud in this quiet room. “I don’t think anyone knows anything, no, but I know that I’m going to come in ten seconds if you—”

Ed lets him go so fast that he almost sobs. “Whoa, not so fast.”

“Not so fast? It’s been all day. I think I’ve been edged to within an inch of my life at this point.” He’s aware that his bottom lip is dropping, but the amusement written all over Ed’s face suggests he’s making more of a deal about it than he intended.

“Had a few other things to think about.”

He narrows his eyes. “Rupert was never very good at waiting, either?”

That makes Ed laugh in exactly the way Stede likes best, head tipped back, throat bared. “Think he waited a fair bit this season. Never gave up.” He pumps Stede’s cock again, a couple of incandescent strokes. “Be good for me. We’ve got a bit more to manage first.”

He’s not going to think about Rupert and Tāne, actually, not the way they just left them this morning. He puts all his focus on the feeling of Ed’s nimble fingers stroking over his shaft, and bucks up into the touch. “I’m ready. I’ve been so ready.”

Ed just reaches past him and picks up a silk handful of the rope that’s laid out across the bed, like he’s noticing it for the first time. It slithers through his hands, a deep purple, soft as anything, and Ed lets out an appreciative little huff. “Where’d you find this?”

Stede stares him in the eye. “I don’t recall.”

Ed’s brow goes up, but he just slides the rope through a few more times, letting it trail across Stede’s torso as he does. Stede tries to rut up against him again, but Ed’s arranged himself so that their cocks can’t make contact, and he’s left frustrated. “Been a while since I tied anyone up.”

“Not a problem,” Stede says. “I’m tying you.” Ed snaps to look at him so fast that Stede feels his mouth fall open. “If that’s something you’d like.”

“Fuck yes,” Ed says, sliding off him now. “Stede. You, uh. You got some hidden skills you never mentioned?”

The blush is rushing into his cheeks, despite his best efforts not to let it. “There were a lot of things on that list I had no idea about, but when we decided to divide it up, odd days for you, even for me, I did some… research. Maybe went to a place Lucius recommended, a little bit.”

Ed’s grin widens. “You went to the Swedish Sex Dungeon.”

“Is it—would we really call it a dungeon?”

“Literally how it’s listed in the phone book, mate.” He’s touching the rope to his cheek with a new appreciation. “Fuckin’ love their ropes.”

“You’ve been before.” It’s not a question, he can see it on Ed’s face, and suddenly there’s a great pit of inadequacy opening up in his stomach. Ed already knows what it’s like to be tied by people who actually know what they’re doing. Stede’s got less than zero clue.

“Hey.” Ed’s hand is warm on his. “Been a long time since I last visited, never got into much. Never really trusted anyone enough for that. But I trust you.”

His eyes are sincere. His voice is warm. Stede wants to curl up in his lap like a cat, forget about all the unhinged sex they’re meant to be having. “I appreciate that.” He reaches out and pulls the rope away from Ed, a long, slow slide. “And I am… very thorough with my research, as you know.”

Five minutes later Ed’s kneeling on the bed, cock straining in front of him, and Stede’s concentrating so hard that he’s stopped noticing his own very present arousal.

“You weren’t kidding,” Ed breathes. “Fucking hell, Stede.”

“I found an excellent book. Did a bit of practice. Went to a beginner’s session at the—“ He catches the look on Ed’s face in time to clarify. “The Dungeon, yes. Just to get some guidance! I didn’t—I didn’t interact with anyone.”

“Be fine if you did, mate.”

He finishes his circuit, tugging a couple of the knots, and nods, satisfied with the result. “I don’t want to try any of this with anyone else.”

At all, is the subtext, but Ed just nods. “Yeah, good to get your confidence first.”

Ever, he wants to add, but he bites his tongue. “What do you think?”

The mirrored wardrobe at the end of the bed is the best part of this place right now, as far as he’s concerned, because Ed gets to look up and see himself, and he gasps. “Incredible.”

Stede’s used a series of knots and woven patterns to lace the rope across his torso like a criss-crossed corset. His arms are tied behind his back in an intricate pattern of knots that Stede very much wishes Ed could see.

He settles for leaning in to kiss Ed’s neck, and Ed tips his head back and moans a little, absolutely beautiful. Stede sucks a little harder, uses some teeth, and when he pulls away there’s a lovely purple mark on the tender skin of his throat, and accessory to the ropes. He goes back in for another, and another, until he’s panting. He looks up and catches Ed’s eye in the mirror, and finds him dark-eyed and squirming.

“If you could only see the rest,” Stede says, running a hand over the ropes binding Ed’s arms. “You’re beautiful everywhere.”

“Take a picture,” Ed says hoarsely, reading his mind. “Show me.”

That feels so real, doesn’t it? The idea of recording this moment, being able to actually open it up and see it with his own eyes whenever he likes? Somehow that feels even more real than seeing Ed right in front of him, warm and intricately wrapped and staring at him in the mirror, pupils blown, cock straining.

And Stede kneeling behind him, the view of his own body blocked by Ed’s. Usually he’d stay hidden. Avert his eyes, try not to acknowledge his own existence at all. But somehow this feels so different. Ed makes him feel so comfortable in his own body, in a way he’s never experienced before. He slides off the side of the bed and stands. Takes in the sight of them like this, Ed on his knees, bound and obedient, and then he walks around in front of Ed, so he fills up the entire view.

His own cock is bouncing, so firm that it hurts, and like this, it’s very, very close to a position where Ed would only have to lean forward to get his lips around it. They stay like that for a good long while, Ed looking up through his lashes, Stede trying to control his breathing.

“Nobody’s going to come today,” Ed says, low and distinct.

It jars so suddenly in Stede’s brain that he doesn’t understand it for a moment. He looks down at Ed’s cock, leaking so heavily that there’s a shining slick on his thigh, drips darkening on the bed. Feels like it’d take a second of sucking him deep into his throat for him to come.

“Why?” Stede says. He doesn’t dare touch himself, as much as he’d like to. “Have we not edged each other enough?”

“Whole point of edging,” Ed says, a little breathless, “is that you delay your climax.”

“Well, yes, not… cancel it!” His voice is high and strained, and Ed chuckles.

“I can see your frustration.” He stares pointedly at Stede’s cock. “You are… so fucking wet for me.”

“As are you!” His therapist would tell him to sit with these feelings for a minute, really understand why this feels… god, disappointing? Devastating? He’s not sure where it sits on the scale, but it’s somewhere. And Ed owes him absolutely nothing here, and Ed has every single right to decline anything more than this. He clears his throat. “As you wish. Would you like me to let you out now?”

Ed watches him carefully for a minute, and then he says, “Yeah, think my knee’s had enough.”

“Oh, god, your knee.” Stede forgets his mood in an instant and scurries to help. He takes a couple of minutes to untie each of the intricate knots, soothing a hand over the indents they’ve left behind on Ed’s skin. “I’m sorry, Ed, that must have been uncomfortable.”

“It was fucking lovely,” he says, and the last knot comes free. He flops backwards onto the bed, stretching his arms up over his head. All spread out and naked in the last rays of sunlight, every inch of him visible and touchable. Stede sits beside him on the mattress and lets a hand wander up over the beautiful tā moko tattoo on his calf, fingers slipping through the dark hair on Ed’s legs.

“Hey,” Ed says gently. “You okay? This is supposed to be a fun kind of delay.”

He nods, still trying to parse out his own reaction. “I want you very badly. Feels like I’ve focussed every bit of my attention on how much I need you, and that’s… that’s not fair.” He stills his hand, rests it on Ed’s thigh and looks up. “I’m enjoying our time together very much, not only for this.”

Ed smiles so easily, so often when he’s looking at Stede, and he grins now. “Me too, mate.” He pushes himself up, props himself on his elbows. “Promise, it’ll be even sweeter when you do get to come. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. At this point in time it’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t come in his sleep. But tomorrow, he knows, they’ve got so much more waiting for them.

“Do you… do you think we should do a quick rewatch before bed?”

Ed squeezes his eyes shut as he laughs, and he’s the loveliest person Stede’s ever known. “Can’t believe it took you this long to ask.”

~

In the morning, Ed wakes up to the rumble of an engine in the not-so-distant distance. He slings the covers back and climbs out of bed, shrugging on a t-shirt as he goes, hopping into his sweats, and he closes the bedroom door quietly behind him as he goes out into the house.

Sure enough, there’s another Shuttlecock vehicle pulling up outside.

Jim’s behind the wheel, arm out the window, and they stick up a middle finger as they pull to a sharp stop. Oluwande climbs out of the front seat, Pete out one side of the back, and Lucius all but staggers out the other, looking a little green.

“Fuck this, someone else is driving on the way back!”

Jim rolls their eyes. “Relax, hombrecito. The speed limit’s more of a… guideline kinda thing.”

“It’s a literal law, Jim!”

Jim does a little chat chat chat motion with their hand as they come bounding up the step, grinning, and they punch Ed in the shoulder when they get there. “Sweet fucking gig you’ve got here, huh? You guys done any science at all, or you’ve just been too busy watching TV and—“

“Jim!” Stede comes bursting through the door, somehow fully dressed in all khaki, but his hair’s sticking up six ways from Sunday. “I forgot you were all coming out today! Very happy to see you all! Oluwande! Pete! Lucius! Did you all watch?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Jim says. “Did you?”

“Did we! Of course we did, twice already!”

“Good Christ, you’re going to run out of exclamation marks, Stede.” Lucius staggers up the stairs, dragging Pete after him, and he shoves Pete into the armchair beside the door and flops onto his lap. “I was up all night thinking about Sam, floating out at sea all alone. Be a darling, get me your strongest possible coffee? ”

Stede makes a face. “Sam got picked up eventually. And I’m not a waiter—“

Lucius glares. “Unless you’d like me to vomit on your shoes.”

Stede turns tail without another argument and disappears into the cabin while Oluwande chuckles, doing a final check around the vehicle before he’s satisfied enough to come up the stairs and join the rest of them. The whole crew’s going to be in and out of this place over the next few weeks, but these are some of Ed’s favourite humans in the whole company. The ones who give him a reason to get up and do his job on the days where he very much does not fucking feel like it. Nobody’s ever called his bullshit faster and more thoroughly than Jim, who’s looking at him now.

“So,” Jim says, and looks at Oluwande, who puts his hands up in surrender.

“I’ll say it,” Lucius says, grinning. “You encountered any leeches out here, or—“

Ed gives him a confused look before the dots suddenly connect, and his hand strays up to his neck. “Fuck.” There’s no reasonable explanation for that, is there? They’ve been out here for four days and his neck’s got a neat line of love bites stepping from collarbone to jaw, every one of them put there by Stede, most of them last night, while he had Ed bound in silk. “Uh, yeah, lots of leeches. I’d avoid the whole lake swimming bit. They go right for the neck—“

He breaks off as Stede shoves back through the door, sending the screen smacking against the house with a loud thwack as he carries through a tray of mugs. He stops short as they all turn to look at him. “What?”

“Leeches,” Lucius says succinctly. “A little bit of abandon really suits them.”

“If you say so!” Stede sets the tray on the coffee table, and it’s got coffee for the other four, and two cups of tea, which Ed already knows are going to be perfectly made. Stede’s never once batted an eyelid at his seven sugars and a dollop of milk—wouldn’t be the same with six—even when it’s the total opposite of his, milky and totally free of extra sweetness. Doesn’t need it. He’s sweet enough.

“So,” Jim says. They’re leaning against the railing, flipping their knife casually in their hand, which would be both more and less intimidating from anyone else. “What’s the deal so far?” And when Ed narrows his eyes at them, they say, “With the site, cabrón.”

“Yeah. ‘Course. What else.” He scoffs, and then he turns back to Stede, who’s already pulling out their marked-up map, eyes glowing with enthusiasm to pass all the information they’ve gathered on to others, and fuck, Ed’s in love. More deeply every single day, and tonight, he’ll finally get to have all of Stede.

It’s been easy to forget, with his head still spinning over the show. They didn’t go to sleep until late last night, still lying in the dark while Stede dug up reviews and read out the bits that annoyed him the most. Ed found an article on the stunt-work involved in the whole wild dream sequence where Tāne sailed his boat through the jungle and Rupert appeared as some kind of… snake god? Fuck knows, that bit’s still hurting his brain, but hell, it had also made him cry so hard his face hurt, because Rupert had pulled him out of that dream and brought him back from the edge of death, and now they’re going to get to love each other.

That’s all Ed’s ever wanted for any of them, Rupert and Tāne and he and Stede.

And look, the whole edging bit yesterday was his own stupid idea, but damned if he doesn’t ache, like they haven’t fucked once in their lives, not just two days without.

Stede taps the map and gets going. “So, we’ve got five very different landscapes represented. The mountain, the meadow, the wetlands, the beach, and the forest.”

He wanders off into a detailed explanation of each, pointing out the boundaries to the team, the transition zones they’ve noticed. The flora, the fauna, the temperatures and the pH levels, all the initial results, and the only thing Ed can do is stare, mouth watering as Stede points to the far side of the map, and his shirt collar drops open enough to give a glimpse of those tits.

Spread out for him in the sunlight, glistening with sweat, maybe with come. Titty-fucking, Stede’s imagined voice is whispering in his ear all of a sudden, like the breeze that’s rolling in off the field now. Edward, no.

Edward, yes!

“Edward? Ed?”

Stede’s actual voice makes him snap his head up, realising the second he does that he’s already started to get hard again. Edward, fucking no, Christ. He settles down on the arm of the nearest chair, crosses his legs real subtly. “Yes?”

“I was just telling the crew about your findings in the forest yesterday.”

“Oh.” Oh, because Ed had been trying his fucking hardest to drive Stede insane yesterday, actually, lounging back against the tree trunk, pouring half a bottle of water over himself as he tipped his head back and shook out his hair. Never seen a guy come from just looking at him, but he’d swear it was a near thing for Stede.

But yeah, okay, he’d done some work as well, and so had Stede. And now Stede’s asking him to talk for the both of them. “Uh, yeah, there’s… there’s a higher than average incidence of dead trees, I reckon. Could be dieback, could be fungal, could be salinity, we don’t know yet.”

“That’s why you got me,” Jim says, grinning, because Stede might be the insane foliage guy on the team, but Jim’s the person who does the microscopic and chemical analysis on the other end. “No team without the t for trees.”

Oluwande groans. “That was... not it.”

They slap a hand against his shoulder. “Okay, on the other hand there’s no—“

“A for air?” Oluwande arches a brow, calling out his own speciality. “Everyone needs air.”

They look about three seconds away from falling into a massive makeout session, and Ed clicks his fingers. “Focus, huh?”

Lucius laughs. “You’re just jealous that there’s no w for water in there, Edward.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“No p for photography, either.” Ed points at Pete. “No v for video.”

“No p in v, got it.” Lucius gives the most shit-eating grin of all time. “You’ll just have to think of somewhere to stuff all your t for trees and w for water, and—“

“Lucius,” Stede says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s spend more time looking at the map, less time auditioning for some imagined reality show. Really! This isn’t Sluts Gone Wild!”

Ed’s not even sure that was a joke, but it’s still enough to make his stomach hurt laughing. The rest of them are still chuckling as Stede taps the mountain-side on the map. “There are multiple options for reasons why the tree deaths could be occurring. Upstream is one, and we haven’t had a chance to look at the mountain yet. Might not for a bit. So for now we’re going to start with the wetlands and the stream that runs through those; trace back from the beach, if that makes sense.”

“Sure does,” says Oluwande. “So we’ll all go out and take a bunch of samples, and then we’ll take them back to the lab and get to work.”

“Exactly,” Ed says. “And we’ll stay out here, keep mapping, keep opening it up and probing and—“

Lucius nearly snorts his coffee out his nose. “No, sorry, sorry, go on, please.”

“I think we’ve said all we need to say!” Stede says, and slaps his knees as he stands. “Now, on your feet, all of you. We’re having a day.”

He marches off down to the car, and Lucius shakes his head fondly. “I’d say he’s always been like this, but—“

“He has,” Ed says, letting a little warning growl creep into it.

“I know,” Lucius says, but this time his smile’s soft. “He’s just… more. More him. It’s good to see.”

~

It really fucking is.

When Ed slides into the car beside Stede, he slips a hand onto his thigh. Stede’s staring out the window, hand over his mouth, and for a moment Ed’s guts turn over, worried. But when Stede turns to look at him, he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“God, are we that obvious?”

“Fuckin’ think so,” Ed says, grinning. “Can’t keep my eyes off you, walking around with all those… all those fucking legs and tits, and that whole face thing you’ve got going on.”

Stede waggles his brows, like fucking rubber, they are. “This old thing?”

Ed leans across the console and gets him by the front of the shirt. Pulls him over and kisses him soft and slow, a kiss for lovers, not fucking friends, and Stede sighs into it like they’re both actually on the same page with this. He doesn’t lean back easily when they’re done, either, lingering right there, brushing their noses together.

“Let them look,” Ed murmurs. “Don’t see anyone else getting all this good shit for Kinktober.”

If there’s a flash of disappointment in Stede’s eyes, it’s gone by the time he settles back into his seat and grips the wheel. “Right. Well. Speaking of, we really should ask Lucius—“

“If he wants to make some art for this story? Fuck yes, we should, fucking love his art.”

Everyone’s a fan of Tree Change to one degree or another, and every illustration Lucius has made for one of Ed’s fics has sent him over the moon. He’s great at dicks, let’s face it.

It pulls them back on track, and it’s a good day, all in all. They trek into the forest first, and between chatting about the new episodes, everyone slides into their usual roles smoothly, because they’ve done this many, many times before. Samples are taken from the soil, the air, the trees themselves. Lucius photographs everything, Pete records on video.

And the thing is, Ed’s senses are starting to tingle out here. It’s fucking beautiful, and on the surface it’s pristine. Restoration, they’d said. Used to be mining up in the mountains, farming down in what’s now the wildflower meadow around the cabin. The rest of this forest was logged a long time ago, stumps scattered here and there, some of the trunks no doubt making up that cabin they’re fucking each other in, and what’s here now is mostly growth from the last twenty years.

It looks exactly the way it should look, and he already knows what their plan’s going to be like when it comes to restoring this place. Phase one, identify pest species and native species. Phase two, locate and clean up any contaminant sources. Phase three, eliminate pests where possible, encourage regrowth of native species. And so on and so forth, up and down the line of all their specialities, until this place is thriving again.

Maybe he’s watched too many episodes of Tree Change, or watched the ones they have too many times or some shit, but… he stops again in the same place as yesterday, staring up at this old elm, the trunk leeched of colour, the branches reaching skeletally for the sky, leafless, and it feels wrong. More complex.

“There’s something here, isn’t there?” Stede asks, sidling up next to him.

“I dunno, mate. It just… feels off.”

“It does,” Stede says. “No, I agree, I feel it, too.”

Ed pivots to look at him. “Why would they ask us out here if they had something to hide?”

That makes Stede bite his lip. “Why do any of them? Feels like the modus operandi of every Tree Change villain ever.”

“Imagine if those Shuttlecock dicks were as corrupt as Maxwell Corp.”

He’d said it jokingly, but Stede frowns a little. “God, you know… I had as hard a time as Tāne believing it when they realised Grayson Maxwell was the real mastermind behind half of the chaos they dealt with. He’d been Tāne’s mentor for so long! He was supposed to be helping! But…” He trails away, and when he looks up again, his eyes are serious. “I’d believe it about the Badmintons in a heartbeat.”

“And the Carmodys.” They stay like that, eyes locked, for a good long while, until Ed’s breath rushes out on a laugh. “Be fucking mental if that was a thing, though, wouldn’t it? It’s fiction.”

“Only thing stranger is life itself.”

They… wouldn’t, would they, the Badmintons? He stands there surrounded by the forest, listening to the birds, letting the thought wash over him. Would they? Wouldn’t they? “I, uh. I don’t want to get all paranoid, but… what if we started looking at this like we expected to find something, instead of being surprised if something popped up?”

Stede rubs a hand over his mouth. “Might be wishful thinking.”

“What, you want to flood the office? Burn it down?” They’ve managed both, in different seasons of the show. “Or just ditch the bosses?”

“God, I’d love to ditch the bosses.” He huffs out a breath. “Wonder if they’ve got a boat to steal. All right, let’s… let’s entertain the fantasy that these guys are potentially up to something. And if it all turns out to be above board, we pop the report in and carry on, no dramas.”

“And if it’s not?”

Their eyes are locked, and somehow this feels more intense than everything that’s gone before. “We burn it all down,” Stede breathes. “One way or another.”

Ed reaches out and offers his hand, and when Stede slaps his to shake it, the sparks jump between them. He tugs Stede closer; he can see Lucius up the far end of the grove, camera focussed up in the branches, and he’s got no fucking clue where Jim and Oluwande went; probably up to their own stuff somewhere.

Gives him enough space, anyway, to murmur in Stede’s ear, “Can’t wait to fuck you tonight.”

Stede drops his forehead against Ed’s shoulder. “Oh my god.”

“You ready?”

“I’m not literally ready yet, but I’m…” He puts his head up, and his stare is fierce. “I’m incredibly ready, yes. Are you—are you sure? That you want to—me?”

Ed throws a glance in the general direction of Lucius, but he’s wandered further down the path. He takes the chance to hook his arm around Stede’s waist and walk him back against the tree, pressing a hand to the bark above his head, fisting the other in his shirt as he kisses him.

When he breaks away, he says, “There’s not another person on this fucking planet I want to fuck more.”

He lets that one sink in, brows raised, and Stede takes a shaky breath.

“Wow. Good. Yes. And… and you’re sure you wouldn’t rather—“

He can’t even say it out loud yet, but Ed’s got him, and he presses a finger to his lips. “You’re asking if I’d rather bottom or top, yeah? Take or give. You know it’s okay to have a preference, right? Or to not want it at all, and if anything about it feels bad to you, we don’t have to. I’m vers, I like it both ways, and I would very much like you to fuck me, but if I don’t get to fuck you the minute we have the chance, I might fucking die.”

Stede’s cheeks are pink as fuck, but he’s smiling. “Well, we can’t have that.” He lifts a thigh, nudges between Ed’s, and the sparking heat of it makes him moan.

“Here’s the deal,” Ed says softly, like he’s in any position to bargain over anything right now. “Tonight when they all fuck off, I’m going to lay you out. I’m going to open you up. I’m going to fuck you until you see stars. And if you haven’t come by the time I spill, then we’ll flip right over and you fuck me. If not, your turn next time.”

It’s Stede’s turn to moan, like he can’t hold it in. “And who’s doing the… the spanking?”

Ed can’t hold back his laugh. “You really studied that list, huh?”

Stede’s hand is trailing up the bare skin of his arm, following the curving lines of the snake. “I’m very dedicated.”

“Spank me,” Ed says, the words tumbling out before he can even think about it. “Want you to.”

Stede’s panting a little now. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah. Don’t mind a bit of spanking.”

“Christ, Ed—“

There’s a great crashing from the undergrowth behind them, and they spring apart just as Jim and Oluwande emerge. Oluwande’s elbowing Jim, who looks absolutely fucking unrepentant. “Working hard or hardly working?”

“Very hard,” Stede says, and he sounds like he’s just been fucked out of his mind, making them all look at him. He straightens himself up. “Get all the samples you needed?”

“I think so,” Oluwande says, and gestures up at the trees. “I think there’s—“

“Something going on, yeah,” Ed says. He looks to Jim. “You too?”

“Yeah.” They slap the trunk of the ghostly tree. “This doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen in a while. Going to need a little more testing before we get a sense of where to look next.”

Lucius and Pete are back a minute later, Lucius already packing his camera into the bag. A couple of buttons on Pete’s shirt are out of order, and Ed tries to hide his grin. They’re definitely not the only ones here to misbehave.

“So!” Stede says brightly. “Where are you all staying tonight?”

Lucius gives him a withering look. “With you, of course.” The look on Stede’s face is so instantly shocked that Lucius stumbles out the rest faster than he normally would. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, it’s okay. We’ve got a motel next town over, and we’ll drive the rest of the home way in the morning. Planning on ordering a bucketload of room service on the company account and getting nicely toasted before Pete fucks me through the mattress and—“

“Okay, okay, some of us know how to be fucking discreet, man.” Jim throws a wink at Oluwande that’s not the least bit fucking subtle, and then they turn their gaze on Stede again and say, absolutely deadpan, “Queer joy. Best part of this job.”

Stede lets out a little huff. “Is it?”

“Sure fucking is.”

Ed can see them bite back the rest of what they want to say, and instead they just clap Stede on the shoulder as they go striding past, heading for the car. Ed and Stede stay right where they are, watching as everyone loads in and drives off into the late afternoon.

Just like that, they’re alone again.

And Stede turns to Ed and says, in a voice gone suddenly low, “You were being a real tease yesterday with that tree.”

His brows jump. Yesterday feels like a fucking year ago after the wringer this show has put them through in the last day. He puts a hand to his chest, all innocence. “Me?”

Stede saunters in until they’re nose to nose, and then he jerks their hips together. “You. And I think…” He trails his hand down Ed’s hip, and then he taps it, and Ed’s cock jerks. “I think maybe the tree is the right place for a spanking.”

A noise tips out of his mouth that’s somewhere between a gasp and a gurgle. “Yeah, fuck, okay.”

It takes a little manoeuvring, but in no time, Ed’s standing with his hands braced against the tree, and Stede’s peeling his jeans down over his hips. It’s a little fucking awkward being caught there like that, legs only as far apart as the denim around his knees will let them go, Stede rubbing appreciative circles against his ass cheeks.

“Look at you.”

“Balls out in the middle of a forest, certified madman standing behind me, what could possibly go wr—“

His words are cut off with a strangled gasp as Stede’s hand smacks down against his backside, the sound sharp enough to echo out into the trees, and he lets his head drop forward, hair a curtain around his face.

A second later Stede’s peering up at him, bent over to get the right angle. “Ed! Are you all right? I’m sorry, was that too—“

“Perfect,” he says, hearing the honey slowness of his own voice. “Keep going.”

“And if you don’t—“

“Nuclear,” he says. “Won’t forget.”

Won’t need it, he already knows. Stede circles back behind him again, and Ed can fucking feel him thinking, giving this all the attention he applies to everything he does. He’s about to offer a suggestion when smack, Stede’s hand lands on his ass again, and yeah, okay, Ed’s fully hard again already as the delicious heat begins to sear and Stede asks, “More?”

He doesn’t have to hesitate. “More.”

Another smack. Another. Stede circles him, inspecting him, pressing his ass cheeks apart and rubbing lightly over his hole with a spit-slicked finger, tugging his cock from time to time, and fuck, this is—this is—

“That’s enough, I think,” Stede says.

Ed takes a second to process before he pushes himself up to stand, turning slowly to face the guy so he can see just how hard Ed’s dick is, standing out from his body like a flagpole. Stede looks smug as hell, and they both start to laugh at the same time.

“You deserved that. Yesterday was a nightmare,” Stede says petulantly. “Watching you pour water over yourself? Having to see your… your nipples, for the next hour, when I couldn’t touch them? And then washing the car, after the shower, all tied up like that, I just…” He lets out a shaky breath, and suddenly he’s serious again. “I don’t know how to stop wanting you this much, Ed.”

The spark in his gut flares that bit more. “Don’t have to, mate. We’re only on day five, right? Twenty-six more to go.”

“Twenty-six days,” Stede says, nodding, somehow looking even more distraught than before. “Right.”

And then, forever, if Ed gets incredibly fucking lucky. Neither of them can walk away from this unchanged; fuck, Ed’s already a different person to the one who came here in the first place. That guy, he’d never fucked his best friend. He’d only seen two seasons of Tree Change. He could’ve guessed this was all going to be a lot, but he couldn’t have known just how much, fuck.

~

It’s a quiet ride back to the cabin, in the end. No more words as they hop out, take turns in the shower. Stede goes first this time, and by the time Ed’s done he’s in the kitchen, dishing dressed salad onto plates, and sliced steak on top of that.

“Smells fucking incredible,” Ed says, coming up behind him. He presses himself against Stede’s back, slides his arms around Stede’s waist, and sways them there like that for a minute. Thinking about the last few days, the way they’ve looked after each other, the way they’ve laughed. He presses a kiss beneath Stede’s ear, and a stray golden curl tickles his nose. “I really care about you, you know that?”

Stede nods, doesn’t look back. “I know. I care about you, too.”

Every bit of him is screaming to tell Stede that it’s more than that. That he loves him, never wants to let him go. But if he’s honest, there’s part of him that fears Stede might run the exact same way he did from Mary, even if it’s for different reasons. Ed knows how fucking wild the intensity of this feeling is. He hardly knows what to do with it himself.

He settles for pressing his half-hard cock against Stede’s ass, making himself known.

“After dinner,” Stede says hoarsely. “I’m all yours then.”

The meal’s quiet, too, and so’s the clean-up, side by side as Ed washes the dishes and hands them to Stede for drying. It’s extremely fucking domestic and ordinary and normal, and with every passing minute it feels more and more like they’re standing on the edge of a cliff. Fall or fly, there’s nothing in between, unless they decide not to jump. Feels just like yesterday, except this time, the anticipation is for something he knows is going to be good.

At last, they run out of jobs to do, and Stede turns to face him. “Are you ready?”

He nods. “Fuck yes.” It’s all the excuse he needs to crowd in on Stede again and kiss him the way Ed’s already learned he likes best, tilting his chin, licking into his mouth. He walks Stede backwards into the bedroom and he doesn’t stop until they hit the bed and Stede folds down onto it.

It feels a shitload like the very first time he ever fucked someone, nervous as hell while some drunk college roommate did the basics and still left him a changed man after. And yeah, it feels like that because this is Stede’s first time. First time he’s ever going to get to feel this. Ed’s the one who gets to introduce the guy to his prostate properly. Ed’s the one who gets to hold him with all the care he never got himself, and fuck him gently through it.

“I want you,” he says, and the tight line of Stede’s shoulders softens. “You’re unbelievably beautiful, Stede.”

“Well, thank you. And you’re—“ He struggles to find the right words. “You’re incredible, Ed. I’m so lucky to be doing this with you.”

Ed could do something sexy, strip off, prowl over Stede and lay him down, but he reads the guy easily, and sits down beside him. Takes his hand and holds it between them. “Big moment, yeah? How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling… like if you breathe on me I might come. Again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Ed chuckles, shifts the curls of Stede’s hair away from his neck, and kisses him softly there again. He wouldn’t mind moving into that little spot. “The more you get the more you want. You’re going to have to battle that one a little longer. Anything else?”

Stede sighs as Ed sucks a little over his pulse point. “It feels like a threshold. Like I’ve been… theoretically gay all this time, and I’m about to really go there.”

Ed presses his nose against Stede’s neck, laughing. “It’s not a card you get punched, mate. You already had my cock in your mouth and yours in mine, you’re already pretty fucking gay. Were before you’d even touched a cock that wasn’t your own, would be if you never touched a cock, if that was how you identified. You know? You don’t have anything to prove.”

Stede takes a shaky breath. “I’m… adequate.”

“You’re more than that. You’re amazing.” He’s dragged his lips along the pleasantly bristled line of Stede’s jaw, and made it far enough around to kiss his mouth. And now he eases them both back down to the bed, and shifts onto his side to look Stede in the eyes. “You sure? Really sure?”

He’s playing with the buttons along the front of Ed’s shirt. “I really am ready. And I’m really glad it’s you.”

“Me too, mate. Me too.” He can’t fucking stand the idea of any other guy touching Stede like this, and for now, he doesn’t have to worry about it. He gets to be Stede’s first, and he’s going to make it so fucking good.

“You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah. And you’re mine.” That’s going to be true no matter what else changes. “Let me take care of you.”

Stede’s nose wrinkles. “Is that… is that the phrase for today?”

Ed grins. “Nah. That’s open up.”

Like he’s taking it as an instruction, Stede lets his knee drop against Ed’s thigh. Meets his eyes and says, “I’m all yours.”

They take their time undressing each other this time. Undoing each other’s buttons and zips, helping each other out of their clothing. The fire’s crackling in the next room, has been for an hour or so now, and the room’s warm. Stede still has goosebumps down his arms when Ed trails his fingers down. “I’ll get the lube.”

He has to, because otherwise this is going to be too much, way too fast, and he wants to last at least a little. He slides off the bed and goes over to root through the drawer that’s full of their gear, until he finds the good stuff, thick and slippery.

When he turns back, he has to catch his breath all over again. Stede’s laid out fully naked, and he’s let his legs fall open, and he’s got an arm tucked up under his head as he strokes his cock lazily, watching Ed with a heated gaze that follows him around the room.

He swallows down any effort to actually find the right words and goes across, crawling onto the bed between Stede’s knees, shifting his thighs out to open him up.

Stede’s watching Ed watch him, and he reaches out and grabs a pillow, shoves it behind his head so that he can angle himself up a little higher to observe the prep. Why that is the hottest thing of all time, Ed’s got no idea, but it sends an almost painful pulse of need through him as he clicks the bottle cap open and squeezes out a good lot of lube onto his fingers, rubbing them a little to warm it.

He flicks his gaze up to Stede. “Shall we?”

“Please.”

Like they’re about to dance at a fucking ball or something. He lets his touch graze slowly down over Stede’s cock, his balls, until he finds the tight furl of his hole, and knows that Stede knows it, too, by the sharpness of his gasp. He settles a little closer, strokes around it.

“Might feel weird at first. I’ll start slow, and just… tell me if anything’s unpleasant, or uncomfortable, or especially painful. Shouldn’t be painful.”

“I know.”

Ed arches a brow. “Been reading a lot of fic?”

Stede laughs, his face light and free of worry. “Oh, yes. But I’ve… I’ve also done some… trial runs, as it were.”

The brow creeps higher. “Have you?”

“Mm.” Very conversational, like they’re talking about their favourite sandwiches in the break room. “Fingers in the shower first. And then some… some toys.”

He’s pretty sure he’s lost that brow, into his hairline. “And are these toys in the room with us right now?”

Stede’s blush is petal pink and lovely. “They might be.” He reaches down and gets hold of Ed’s wrist, shifts his hand over onto Stede’s cock. “I don’t plan to need them.”

He has to squeeze his own cock for a second to tamp down the enthusiasm. “Gonna ruin you for all toys, Stede.”

“I’m counting on it.” Said smugly as he hooks his other arm up under his head. “What are you waiting for?”

“Cheeky.” He cuts off the laugh Stede’s about to let out as he slips the very tip of his index finger past the ring of muscle and inside, and Stede tips his head back and gasps. “Okay?”

“Yes. Yes.”

He presses further inside, into the soft, tight heat, and presses a kiss to Stede’s knee as he does. “Your body’s already made to take this, you know. Whole purpose of this is just to help you relax that muscle, feel good enough to take more.”

“I can take more,” Stede gasps out. “I want it all.”

Ed does, too. He bends down far enough to lick a stripe up Stede’s cock as he presses even deeper, and Stede’s hips arch up off the bed with it. “Oh, we’re only just getting started.”

He takes it slow, applies so much lube that there’s a slick mess running down between Stede’s cheeks. Fucks him gently with one finger for a good while before he adds a second, and then presses deeper again, curling, searching, reaching until—

“Oh my god.” Stede almost checks him right in the face with his cock as he squirms. “Oh my god!”

Ed chuckles against his thigh. “Think I found the right spot.”

“Is that what that feels like?” Stede says, pitchy and awed. “Do it again. Please.”

Ed obliges, and it unleashes a torrent of cursing and sounds, high-pitched and low alike. Stede’s cock twitches, balls drawing up, and he backs reluctantly away, as Stede chases after him, snatching for his hand.

“More, fuck, don’t stop, that’s—“

“That’s just the start,” Ed says, and kisses his leg again. “Roll over. Face the mirror. Up on your hands and knees.”

He does as he’s told, moving slowly, as if his arms and legs are concrete-heavy. “Please, Ed—“

“Insatiable, aren’t you?” He plants a kiss on Stede’s ass cheek, then spreads him wide. His hole is fluttering, glistening with lube, and Ed slides a finger back in there for a moment, making Stede drop his head and cry out.

This is it. This is the moment he’s been dreaming of since they first met, imagining getting to have Stede just like this, open and willing and wanting and his.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?”

Stede nods desperately, looking up at them in the mirror. Ed’s kneeling behind him, hand splayed out on his back, and Stede’s on his elbows, ass in the air. He slicks his cock up with more lube, lots of it, and then he presses the head to Stede’s hole.

“Anything, anything feels uncomfortable, tell me to stop and we’ll recalibrate, yeah?”

“Ed.” Stede’s reaching back now, clawing for his thighs. “I will tell you. Please. Fuck me. Please.”

He’s desperate for it, and it’s doing something very specific to Ed, making him feel all-powerful like this. “All right, here… we… go.”

The head of his cock pops past Stede’s rim, and there’s so much lube going on that he slides immediately deeper than he meant to. Stede lets out a groan that rattles the bed beneath them, and Ed freezes.

“I’m good!” Stede almost yells. “Do not stop!”

He gets a better grip on Stede’s hips and takes it slower, pressing in and pressing in, watching himself disappear into Stede’s body, watching Stede’s face in the mirror, slack-jawed, fists clenched and eyes clamped shut as his breath escapes in a long, drawn out moan.

He has to catch his own breath as he bottoms out, awed by the fact that this is real. He’s inside Stede. He’s fucking Stede, fuck, and Stede’s body is holding him so tightly, so softly, so warm, so fucking good, so good.

“Still okay?” He wants Stede to open his eyes all of a sudden. He needs to see the proof that this is as fucking transcendent for him as it is for Ed, that it’s fulfilling any dreams he’s ever had. Dreams of being fucked, not necessarily by Ed. No, by Ed. He’s going to believe that. Always by Ed.

“Yes,” Stede says, and thank fuck, he manages to shove himself up on a forearm, and with an effort so great that it looks like slow motion, he drags his eyes open to meet Ed’s reflected gaze. And oh, shit, the look in his eyes is more than Ed anticipated. He looks wrecked, fucking debauched, hungry, undone, god, he looks like he’s already fallen apart and scattered to the four winds, gaze darker than Ed’s ever seen it. “Move.”

The authority in his tone sparks a whole new flare of heat, and Ed would do any fucking thing Stede asked in that voice. He rocks experimentally into Stede, feels his body clutch, watches his face contort with pure ecstasy, and okay, that’s all he needs.

He presses in harder, pulls out further, and lets himself slide inside again in a smooth glide.

“Yes,” Stede hisses. “Fuck, yes.”

In no time at all, he’s losing himself to it. Nudging his knees further apart, fucking him steadily, solidly, addicted to the punched-out sounds that Stede lets out with every thrust. He’d gone soft when Ed entered him first, but his cock’s hanging heavy between his legs again now, slapping back and forth every time their hips meet.

“You going to last?” Ed asks. “You going to fuck me next?”

“Not tonight. I want to come,” Stede says hoarsely, “on your cock.”

He gives Stede a little slap to the side of his ass, like he’s riding a pony. “Giddy up, then.”

Stede starts rocking back to meet him, until Ed’s burying himself deeper than he ever thought possible, and Stede presses himself face first into the mattress as he reaches down and takes hold of his own cock, lost in it, murmuring to himself. Every move he makes has Ed closer and closer to the edge, and when Stede tips over, almost wailing with his release, Ed spills so hard inside him that his vision goes white around the edges.

Stede collapses like a soufflé, flat onto the bed, and he doesn’t move.

“You good?”

“Mm-hmm.” Stede’s back is glistening with sweat, rising and falling. “I just need a second.”

Ed tries not to grin too much as he eases gently out of Stede’s body, watching the little flood of come that chases his dick out. Feels totally normal and rational and not absolutely fuck-drunk and possessive to scoop it up with two fingers and pressing it back inside, making Stede moan all over again.

He flops down next to Stede and shoves him over onto his side, where Ed can kiss him all over his face. Stede looks exhausted, eyes closed, breathing hard. “Okay? Good?”

“I think I might have died, Ed.” His eyes flutter open. “Are you sure I’m not haunting you?”

He laughs, kissing Stede more soundly. “Always wanted to give ghost sex a go.”

He sounds sceptical. “Did you?”

Ed won’t have his ghost-fantasy cred dismissed that easily, fuck that. “Hey, hey, some of us are less about the cryptids, more about the supernatural.”

Stede looks properly indignant. “Well, I’m not out there fucking Bigfoot!”

And that makes him absolutely wheeze. “You’re the only ghost I’d ever fuck, I promise. I’ll be your faithful medium.”

“I should hope so, since I died just for you.”

They lie there laughing, and everything’s just as familiar and comfortable as it’s ever been, even though Ed literally just had his dick inside Stede’s body. It’s easy. It’s just like breathing. Like it’d be possible to hold onto every single thing they already have, at the same time as having even more.

He reaches out to cup Stede’s cheek. “Thanks for letting me be that person.”

Stede’s fingers curl around his wrist, holding him there. “Thank you for being that person. You make me feel safe.”

“You should. You deserve that.”

“You also just made me come so hard it’s amazing there’s not a hole in the bed.”

He grins. “Probably need some new sheets again, yeah?”

“I brought a whole suitcase worth.”

Of course he did. “Pack any sex towels in there?”

And of course Stede doesn’t even hesitate at that. “A few!”

“Well, next time, then.” It’d be smarter than washing everything every day. Next time, there’s going to be a next time, a lot of next times.

Stede’s eyes flutter shut for a moment. “I didn’t get to fuck you. I’m looking forward to that very much.”

Ed can’t actually open his mouth and say how much he wants that, because it’s… kind of frightening, the feeling it sets off in his chest. He rubs a hand over Stede’s shoulder, squeezes his arm. “Tell you what. Tomorrow’s prompt includes somnophilia.”

“Fucking someone while they’re sleeping,” Stede breathes, squinting out at him. “I’ve read that before. You’ve written that before.”

“I like it,” Ed says. “Something about that trust, you know? I trust you. So if you wake up first, you’ve got permission to do whatever the fuck you’d like with me, okay? Up to and including fucking me. And if not, then you can fuck me to sleep tomorrow night instead.”

“That sounds… very good.” He reaches out and twirls a length of Ed’s hair around his finger. “And… rimming?”

Oh, fuck, he’d forgotten that was on there. “Up to you and your comfort zone, mate. I don’t usually like to do it, but I’m not against getting it.”

“Hmm.” Stede rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Well, we’ll see, then.”

They go shower again, only this time Stede seems to be past whatever hangup he was having the other day, because he suggests they save water and do it together. They wedge themselves into the little cubicle as the hot water pours over them, and Stede leans heavily into Ed, and it’s just… nice. Soapy and slick and warm and solid, gentle washing, kissing as the water hits their faces.

They’re settled back in bed and already dozing when Stede says, “D’you think they’ll get to make love again this season? Rupert and Tāne?”

They finally made it over the line last season, and yeah, there’s been a lot of water under the bridge since, but… “I’m pretty confident, mate. Don’t think the two of them are going to be able to keep their hands off each other now they know what that’s like.”

He drifts off to sleep with Stede’s arms locked around him, and thinks that he doesn’t know how to get un-used to such a thing now.

~

Stede is the first to wake the next morning, as it happens. He squints out at the rosy glow of dawn that’s seeping through the curtains, and recalibrates his brain to understand this new world he’s suddenly living in.

One in which he’s sharing a bed with Ed, who’s curled around him like a koala in a tree, both of them utterly naked this time. And when he shifts, he feels the pleasant ache of last night’s activities, and knows that this is real.

With Ed so soundly asleep, he can tilt his head to kiss the man’s forehead, a tender little press that he likes to imagine might be the way he wakes Ed in the future, when they’re older and greyer and happily married.

God, taking it zero to sixty without a pause, hmm? He can’t get ahead of himself, because it’s very possible there’s no ahead to race into after all of this. When he tries to imagine that, it hurts so much that he has to press a hand to his chest to hold the feelings in. Packing up the 4WD at the end of this month, driving back to the city, shaking hands as they head off to their separate homes. Cups of tea in the kitchen at work, bitching about the Badmintons sotto voce. Tree Change nights, or repeats only after this month, that’s a hard thing to comprehend, sitting side by side on the couch without being allowed to devour Ed exactly the way he wants to.

He’s not sure he can handle that. He’s also decidedly unsure that he can handle the crushing disappointment of hoping for anything else, so—limbo.

If he’s truly honest about the thing that’s creeping in his subconscious since those first episodes, he has to admit that watching Rupert and Tāne’s love self-destruct like that has left him… less certain than he was, honestly. It’s hard, because he identifies so closely with Rupert, and he’s had to watch him make a mistake that he’s certain he never would. And Ed would never respond like that, surely! And yet he never, ever could have predicted it in the show, and he finds himself thinking about it quite a lot.

Stede’s not good at making things work, that much he knows. And he wants so much better for Ed than that. He’s sure that he can be that better, but it’s almost like he needs to prove it this month.

So limbo, ongoing. But a limbo with purpose, at least?

A limbo in which they’re still curled up together here in a pleasant cloud of lavender soap, because after last night, Ed had led him into the shower and washed him down softly, carefully, kissing him the whole time. He’d been drunk on it, bringing their mouths together under the steady patter of warm water, grinding up against Ed as if he hadn’t just come harder than he had in years, this entire week included.

He’s no less hard this morning, and he lets his hand wander idly down to caress his own cock. If you wake up first, Ed had said, you’ve got permission to do whatever the fuck you’d like with me. And oh, Stede wants… everything.

He nudges Ed back, and Ed goes bonelessly over, flopping onto his back with an arm sprawled out the other side. He’s an incredibly impressive sleeper, Ed, and yet, the car arriving yesterday had him on immediate alert, well before Stede was conscious.

Stede shifts the sheets down and takes in Ed’s naked loveliness with near breathless appreciation. He’s so incredibly beautiful, all the gorgeous stories inked into his skin, all the dark hair, that absolutely perfect cock already full and heavy. Perhaps he’d dreamed of Stede last night.

Perhaps he’d felt the same stab of panic Stede did yesterday, when he woke up and realised the others were here. In Stede’s case, the very real fear had been that Lucius would say something to Ed that revealed how much Stede had talked about all of this beforehand. But when he walked outside and they all looked up at him sharply, knowingly, he’d understood that game was already lost.

Instead, he’d feared that Ed didn’t want them to know this. That the very idea of them discovering it would be some sort of… embarrassment to him.

And then, thank fuck, they’d had their moment in the forest, in plain view of anyone who might have happened across them, and he’d known that there was nothing to fear.

Ed isn’t afraid they’ll be found out. Perhaps he’s afraid that Stede feels that way instead.

And that absolutely won’t do. He’d suck Ed’s cock in the office kitchen in front of the entire staff to prove it if he had to, and the thought sends a pleasant shiver down his spine.

He shifts himself down the bed and crawls between Ed’s legs; Ed’s knee is thrown out to the side, and Stede doesn’t have to do too much to expand the space between. Still, he hooks Ed’s thigh over his arm and pushes in closer, inspecting him.

Ed’s the first man he’s ever slept with, in any capacity. It’s the first chance he’s ever had to really get in there and see workings other than his own, so to speak. And he’s never particularly loved his own body, but god, he sees it differently as he lets his gaze rake down over Ed’s beautiful length, his balls, and oh, yes. His hole as well.

Stede can’t say he ever enjoyed giving head when it was Mary; something of a sensory nightmare, all the different tastes and sensations, not to mention he’d been terrible at it. They hadn’t tried many times. But Ed’s cock is the perfect weight on his tongue and he moves that way now, going up on his elbows to lean over and suck the head into his mouth. There’s a spill of viscous, salty heat, or pre-come, they always clinically call it in the stories, and it’s going to take him some getting used to. But he suckles for a little longer, and each time, he gets a bit more into the rhythm of the thing, a little more used to it.

Ed moans a little in his sleep, and throws one long arm up over his head. But his eyes stay shut, and Stede settles onto his cock with a little more gusto, taking him deeper.

Definitely one of those revelations, one of those moments of absolute certainty. He never liked going down when the subject was a woman with all the attendant parts, but he was made to hold a cock in his mouth like this.

He slides slowly off it, still determined to complete this mission, rocking his hips against the bed to get any kind of relief at all from the desperate need that’s filling him. And then he presses the flat of his tongue against Ed’s hole, and holds it there for a moment, just breathing.

Ed’s legs twitch convulsively, and he jerks a little off the bed. A bit more consciousness returning, so that’s Stede’s sign to cling onto his thighs a bit tighter, and lick.

“Oh, fuck,” Ed slurs from somewhere above him, half sitting. He’s blinking, bleary-eyed, groggy, but his stare is fierce as he meets Stede’s eye. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop.”

He falls back into the pillows, both hands on his forehead, and Stede takes his instruction with determination. He experiments a bit, because he feels safe to do that with Ed. It might be terrible, certainly, but there’s always tomorrow, isn’t there? He tries a few swipes of his tongue first, a soft glide, enjoying the sensation of Ed’s hair, the musky, clean taste of him.

And then he presses in a bit with the point of his tongue, and Ed’s a hurricane of sudden motion around him, yelping out a fuck that almost rattles the windows. Stede pulls back, laughing.

“Was that a bit much?”

Ed’s hair is standing up all over his head where he’s been scrunching a hand through it, and his voice is hoarse. “Perfect amount. Don’t fuckin’ stop.”

“Well, all right, then.” He dives back in with a sudden surge of confidence—he’s doing this! It’s working. Keeps it up, getting lost in it, almost meditative, until Ed’s thighs are shaking around his ears.

“Okay, all right, enough, Stede…”

When he sits back he feels almost drunk with it, and Ed’s staring down at him absolutely wrecked. “Need you to fuck me. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for another moment, just rolls onto his belly and spreads his legs, knee hiked up again, and Stede stares down at him like a man who’s just been offered an entire feast table, no idea where to start.

“Lube,” Ed murmurs into the pillow. “Lots of it. Fingers first, and then I need your cock.”

“All right,” he breathes. He is adequate. He can do this.

He shoves aside his fears of hurting Ed and gets to work, replicating the things Ed did for him last night. Slowly, slowly, easing a finger inside, finding Ed’s hot centre. There’s something almost scientific about this, the surge of feeling notwithstanding. It’s fascinating watching the way Ed writhes under him with every new movement, and he’s collecting that data and storing it well.

It’s not long before he’s got two fingers buried deep, pressing in, seeking that spot that set him utterly ablaze last night. He’s not having much luck, but then his fingertips graze a bump that makes Ed shout, muffled, into the pillow.

And oh, yes, that’ll do it. He goes after it single-mindedly, stroking in and out until Ed’s arching his ass back off the bed, babbling and begging.

He pulls his fingers free and reaches for the lube to slick himself up. This is—well. It was one thing, letting Ed inside him. He’s fucked before. He’d never been fucked until last night, and he liked it. Very, very much. This is even more, Ed presenting his body with so much trust, prepared to let Stede do almost anything he wants, all in pursuit of his learning. Ed’s a very good friend, beyond anything Stede can process.

He’s almost giddy with this moment, with the step it feels like he’s taking into his own life. This is day six, and he’d feared he wasn’t up to this much sex, but it transpires he’s feeling no less ready right now than he has on any of the previous days, still achingly hard.

Ed looks back over his shoulder. “You okay? No pressure.”

Always, always taking care of him, looking out for him, making sure that Stede is comfortable, happy, safe. He smoothes a hand over Ed’s ass and watches him shiver with anticipation in reply. “I’m fantastic. You?”

“I’m ready,” Ed says, echoing his own words last night. “Super fucking ready.”

“Good, then.” He slips the head of his cock inside Ed, and it feels momentous, for exactly as long as it takes for him to press deeper inside. And then it just feels right, instantly, as if this is the moment he’s been waiting for all along, where every single thought in his head comes clear at once.

“Oh,” he says, and his next breath draws in as a great ragged rush. “Oh.”

“Fuck,” Ed moans, squirming. “Fuck, please.”

“More?”

“Everything.”

That he can do. He settles down over Ed, sliding into him until he’s seated, draped over Ed’s back, close enough to pepper kisses over his shoulder-blades, his neck, to rest his forehead there as he thrusts, rolling his hips. Ed’s so responsive, making a little sound for every little movement, crying out with every big one, lifting his hips to meet Stede’s thrusts as if he can’t get enough. Like there’s never going to be too much Stede for him, ever, and fuck, is Stede crying a little?

He presses his nose closer into Ed’s neck and lets himself feel it all, every sense absolutely overwhelmed. The sweat-slicked slide of Ed’s skin under his, the clenching heat of him. The breath he’s gasping in, undone by Stede. The taste of him, soap-sweet under Stede’s lips, the smell of him, that coconut shampoo of his that Stede would quite like to bury himself in, and he does the next best thing, nuzzling into Ed’s hair as he fucks him steadily.

He spent so many years feeling like he didn’t fit inside his own body, as if he was an alien on a planet that seemed full of people who knew exactly what they wanted.

He knows exactly what he wants now. He picks up his pace, gaining in confidence, especially the way Ed’s moans hitch up a notch as Stede hits that place inside him, and before he knows it he’s right on the edge.

“Ed,” he gasps out, suddenly discovering the limit of his newfound abilities. “I’m about to—I’m going to—but I can’t reach you, I’m—“

Ed twists just enough for Stede to see his face, and fuck, is Ed crying? His eyes are squeezed tightly shut, the pillow clenched in his arms. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”

There’s a raw desperation in it that sends a similar bolt of heat through Stede, and he does as he’s instructed, letting himself fall into it, fall apart, and when he comes, pulsing deep inside Ed, inside Ed, it’s like the planets are realigning themselves in real time, and suddenly he belongs.

Here, like this, gripping his best friend’s sweat-slicked hips, easing his spent cock out, falling onto the bed beside him. “Are you all right? Do you need—“

Ed gives him a sleepy grin, cracks one eyelid open. “Fuck no, got there about the same time you did.”

He peers down at the bed and finds that—oh yes, no, there’s a decent damp patch there. “Without anything?”

“Nothing but your cock pounding me out of my fucking mind,” Ed says easily, rolling onto his back and stretching. “Fuckin’ great start to a Sunday morning, yeah?”

“The best,” Stede agrees. Everything should feel different, shouldn’t it? But it doesn’t, not really. They’re still them. They’re still together in the same bed, still on this property for this job. “Day off today?”

“Yep,” Ed says. “Thought maybe we should do a little more planning for that story.”

“Oh, yes. We should, definitely. Maybe another rewatch, while we’re at it.” Stede’s not entirely sure how they can write something that’s going to do this situation justice, nor the new season. But it reminds him, too. “What was the phrase for today?”

Ed’s forehead crinkles as he thinks. “Uh… we can leave that one.”

He leans over and swipes up his phone, flips through to the prompt list, and stops. “Oh.”

“Yeah. We don’t—we don’t have to do everything, you know?”

“Punish me,” Stede reads out. “No, I don’t think I want us to do that.”

Ed snakes a hand over to squeeze his knee. “Fun as a role-play thing sometimes. Doesn’t have to be serious.”

He’s not quite sure what’s jangling inside his brain. Maybe that it’s been his default mode for so many years, feeling like he’s being punished, or should be. Weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily-livered little rich boy…

“Hey,” Ed says softly, watching his face. “You okay?”

He lets out a breath. “Yes! Yes. Yes, I was… I was just thinking about Rupert and Tāne.” It’s not not true, because he’s not sure there’s been a span longer than five minutes that they’ve been out of his head since he watched the first episode of the show, but especially this week. “About punishment, and how Rupert felt like he deserved it, after leaving Tāne behind like that. And now it’s going to be so much worse, seeing what happened after.”

Ed hefts himself over, props his elbow, rests his cheek on his hand. “He was fucking kidnapped! Not much choice in it.”

“Still!” Stede identifies with Rupert to an almost painful degree sometimes, and it hasn’t escaped his attention that he’s perhaps a little overly comfortable judging Rupert’s actions harshly. Some kind of self-flagellation in it. “He didn’t have to send the message that emphatically, that’s all. He didn’t have to drive home that he’d chosen something other than Tāne. It’s no wonder Tāne hit his breaking point.”

Ed looks absolutely incredulous. “Mate, he was literally being held at gunpoint, told what to type. You’ve gotta give the guy a break.”

He doesn’t know what’s possessing him to argue this, until it quite suddenly clicks with him. “I just… I feel like if that was us, we’d find a way, wouldn’t we?” He’s almost pleading. “We’ll always be there for each other.”

Ignoring the wet patch completely, Ed scoots himself over, until he can rest his chin on Stede’s thigh instead, and Stede tries not to think about how close his mouth is to Stede’s cock. Ed looks up at him through thick lashes and says, “Good thing it’ll never be us, then. Fiction’s fiction.”

He nods, not reassured exactly. But also, perhaps suffering from an excess of imagination? Maybe it’s being out here on this property, undertaking a mission that’s very much got a Tree Change flavour to it. Maybe it’s the sense that there is something going on here. There’s an odd swirling fear that perhaps that guilt he’s always felt over… nothing, really. Being himself? Not being himself? Not being brave enough to reach for the things he wants, that’s… that’s going to swing back around and get him at some point.

And perhaps that's exactly why those new episodes have hit him so firmly in the solar plexus, watching those characters go through the worst, when he feels so very aligned with them. The current problems stem from their own actions, yes, but the factors behind those are so varied. It's survival, for both of them. It's not survival for he and Ed, and he has to remind himself of that.

They love this show, but they are not this show. They are themselves, on their own timelines, living their own lives with all their many and varied factors. And yes, plenty intersect with the characters on this show, and that's what makes them so relatable. But the slight hint of doom that's been shrouding him whenever he thinks about it for too long is easily scurried out the door. They will do better than Rupert and Tāne, he's sure of that.

Sitting here next to Ed, who’s looking up at him with that mix of patience and care he always shows, he opens his mouth to say what he knows he should—and then he can’t. He can’t, because there’s also that other layer to it, of knowing how easily rejected he is. That precedes this season of Tree Change, and it's going to linger long after. It doesn't matter how much gentle self talk he practices, or how much he reasons his way through it, there's just that... fear. This is good, now. This can stay the way it is, for a little bit longer.

“Perhaps we can make it better,” he says, a little hoarsely. “In our story.”

Ed squeezes his knee again. “Reckon we can do that easily.”

And then, they’ve got to hope, the show’s writers will do the same with the next two episodes next week, and set everyone back on the path to healing.

Chapter Text

Everything is beginning to settle a bit more, another day and another rewatch later. Time is doing a fucking mental thing of going both extremely slowly and way too fucking fast, and Ed feels like he’s watching it slip through his fingers sometimes. The first chapter of the story shapes up nicely throughout Sunday, and they’re aiming to get a rough plan for the rest in place, too. They’re going to pull in lots of different elements, depending on what they’ve most enjoyed here, and there’s still so much more to come.

Right now, Ed feels like they’ve almost fucking peaked, because after all those years of dreaming about it, he’s had Stede’s thick cock inside him this morning, and it wasn’t nearly enough. Just the beginning of an addiction he can already feel is going to overtake everything else he wants in this world, and he shifts a little in his spot on the floor, curled up next to the crackling fire, and sneaks a little look at Stede sitting on the couch.

He’s got his glasses on, flicking back through his notebook—it’s a Moleskin covered in teal, because of course it is—and frowning a little.

“Everything okay?”

Stede looks up sharply, blinks at him. “Oh. Yes! I’m just… I’m feeling like there’s something that hasn’t fallen fully into place yet with this story.”

Ed’s been breaking the outline down into smaller chunks, weighing up the pacing himself. He’ll write Tāne’s point of view, Stede will write Rupert’s, and they’ll alternate, depending on where the natural break points feel like they fall.

“What’s the emotional through-line?” Ed asks. Stede’s face is totally blank, and Ed waves his pen. “You know, there’s the plot, what changes from the beginning of the story to the end. But then there’s the emotional arc. What changes within them as they go through those events?”

“Oh. Hmm.” He looks back down at his notebook and twirls his own pen in his fingers—a fountain pen, because of course it is, putting out lines of beautiful midnight blue ink. “I suppose… I suppose it’s about their relationship? They start out as friends—“

“And they’ll end up as lovers,” Ed finishes for him, ignoring the way his pulse leaps. “Yeah, that’s a bit of a change, I think you’re right. Central to everything else. So we just have to work out the milestones in that. What they figure out, when.” Normally Ed would fly by the seat of his pants on that, running on deep instinct for human emotion. But he knows it’s not that easy for Stede, and he’s happy to work his way to make that easier. Set it all out neatly, no room for misinterpretation, right?

“Are we going for a three-act structure?”

“I think so, yeah. You good with that?”

Stede nods. “It’s a comfortable zone for me. I just… I don’t want you to feel limited by working with me.” This time when he looks up, there’s a tender kind of vulnerability there that Ed recognises right away.

“Promise, mate, this is doing nothing but good things for me. Good to get out of my own comfort zone for a bit, yeah? Might find a new zone.”

He tries to lace it with as much meaning as he can, because he needs Stede to know. He is Ed’s comfort zone. Literally any fucking thing they do together is going to be good for Ed.

“All right. Well, in that case…”

They get to work mapping out the key moments, and Ed tries extremely hard to think about Rupert and Tāne and not about Stede.

They start out as friends, they add a few benefits, they confess their real feelings.

Act One, Act Two, Act Three.

They’re more than halfway there, right? Right? Not in time, in time they’re only a fifth of the way through, but emotionally? Mostly. He thinks. At some point Ed’s determined he’s going to manage to fuck the doubts right out of Stede, stop him feeling so fucking spooked about the potential for more than this. Ed needs him to feel just as comfortable in this zone before he does anything as dangerous as saying it out loud.

I have real feelings for you, and they’re more than friendship.

The night winds down, and they put the writing away. They get onto a run of digging up inspiration images, until they’ve both got an album full of them. They read a few fics, passing links back and forth, and chat about those. People are already putting out new stuff based on the first three episodes, and Ed always marvels at how fucking good this whole community is at finding the extra depth in the story. They curl up on the couch together and Ed snuggles up to that broad chest until the fire’s at a low burn, and Stede nudges him.

“I think you’re nodding off, Ed. We should go to bed.”

“We should.”

Neither of them move. Stede clears his throat. “I suppose we got the prompts out of the way this morning, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.” He lets his fingers drift to twist a button on Stede’s shirt. “Feels weird not having anything to do.” Feels fucking impossible that he could want Stede as much as he still does, when they’ve been at this for days. “Could get a head start on tomorrow, I suppose.”

“And then we’d have nothing to do tomorrow!” Stede sounds almost indignant about it, but he shifts a little on the couch, and Ed can see the bulge in his jeans. It’s not just Ed, thank fuck. He trails his finger down the seam of Stede’s shirt, bumps down onto the denim, until he hits that spot and can rake a nail over it.

“Could have a free play moment.”

Stede goes still against him, and Ed has a moment of mental scrambling, trying to work out what he just said to get that reaction. “Outside the prompts?” Stede asks, almost breathlessly. “Just… for the sake of it?”

“Friends with benefits,” Ed murmurs, and fuck it. He’s already drawing Stede’s zipper down, the sound loud in the room. “This okay?”

Stede hums, shifting, the couch creaking under them. “Yes, it’s… it’s more than okay, of course.”

Unspoken, from both of them: this makes it a little different, doesn’t it? This is… kinda dangerous territory, unless it’s something they both want, and as he frees Stede’s cock from his briefs, he doesn’t have much doubt that it is.

He doesn’t fuck around. Just shuffles enough to slip the head of Stede’s cock between his lips, still every bit as drunk on the taste of him, and Stede lets out a shuddering breath above him.

He sinks down onto Stede’s cock as it hardens fully, taking it nice and slow, unhurried. They don’t have to do everything on that list. They don’t have to do anything at all. Could just call it off tomorrow and be done, do their own thing all the time. But it’s nice to have a guideline, a shared challenge. It’s also nice to leave the guideline to the side and just suck Stede’s incredible dick because he enjoys it.

Doesn’t take long. He gets into the rhythm of it, humming around Stede’s cock as he sucks, lost in the meditation of it, the feel of it on his tongue, the fullness, and then Stede’s gasping out a warning, tilting forward to cushion around his head, and flooding his mouth.

When he pulls off, he expects something like an exhalation, a slow goodnight.

But Stede’s on him almost immediately, pushing him back into the couch cushions with a surprising amount of urgency, bending down to kiss the taste of himself off Ed’s lips. “What’s that for?” Ed asks, when he gets half a chance.

Stede’s still bending over him, panting, Ed’s shirt caught in his fingers. “I appreciate you.”

“Well, thanks. I appreciate you, too.”

He’s already moving down Ed’s body, tugging at his sweatpants as he goes. “Let me appreciate you a little more.”

They’re tucked up in bed together twenty minutes later, after Stede’s sucked his soul out through his dick. Incredibly like Stede to get so fucking good at this so fast. The man’s got more focus than anyone he knows, when he hits something he’s interested in.

There’s a sliver of moonlight gilding the edge of the curtain silver, and Ed finds himself staring at it.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Stede says.

“Nearly a full moon,” Ed says, and because he’s a fucking master of self control, he doesn’t add, like the night I realised that I was in love with you, and that was never going to change. At the company Christmas party on a river cruise, the theme historical fancy dress, and Stede had come wearing the most batshit insane teal number Ed had ever seen, like some landed aristocrat who’d decided to run off and become a pirate. He looked like a human milkshake, all the teal fabric and gold braid and white lace froth, and Ed wanted to fucking drink him up.

And then Stede had looked at him like he was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen and said, “Look at that. We’re almost matching.”

They were, in a weird way. Ed had also gone 18th century in his thinking, though he’d leaned into purple velvet and gold brocade, very fucking fancy. Like a pirate at a fancy ball, maybe. Even threaded little flowers into his hair, bows clipped into his beard, and Stede had looked him all over, appraising him under the glowing light of the full moon, and said, “That’s a lovely piece of silk you’ve got there. Might be the final touch you need to make this even more perfect.”

“This old thing?” It was clenched in his hand, the old pocket square his mother had given him for the school ball all those years earlier, dressed up Cinderella-style in borrowed clothes, the night he’d defiantly taken a boy as his date and got himself kicked out for it. But for a brief few minutes they’d been so fucking free, hand in hand on the dance-floor like everyone else. And today, he’d been decades out and loud about it, all the more for that moment.

Ed hadn’t even realised he was doing it, rubbing the soft slick of the red fabric between his fingers, until Stede eased it out of his hands, folded it up, and tucked it into his pocket. Eyes shining in the moonlight, face soft with affection. “There we are. You wear fine things well.”

Ed’s breath had rushed out of him, and he’d tried to shrug it off. “I know.”

“Felt like a good night to just… be pirates, hmm?” Stede leaned against the rail, staring down into the churning water. “I often think about what it must have been like to live that sort of life.”

The kind where you escape your responsibilities, your everyday life, and run away to sea? Ed’s thought about it, too. The past equivalent of what Rupert and Tāne do in Tree Change, right? “Might have to write a story about it,” Ed had stumbled out. “One day.”

“One day.” Stede huffed out a little laugh. “I suppose one can’t really run away and be a pirate in this day and age.”

“Never know. If you found the two—“

“—absolutely perfect people,” Stede said, finishing the Tree Change quote, beaming. “Maybe it would work.”

The whole time that moon had shone down over them, and it’s shining down now, a couple of years later and what feels like thousands of miles from that night. “Might need to do something under the full moon,” Ed says. “For old time’s sakes.”

Stede hums against his chest. “Oh, that would be lovely. A few days to go before it’s full yet, though.”

Because that was the first night where he’d nearly, nearly leaned in and kissed Stede. And Stede had leaned away, and that had been it. Classic situation for the two of them, making everything so much clearer and so much less clear all at once.

Now he’s kissing Stede whenever he feels like it, and he tugs Stede in closer and does that now. “Goodnight, Stede Bonnet.”

He can feel the shape of Stede’s smile against his lips. “Goodnight, Ed Teach.”

~

The next day brings more crew, and Stede shades his eyes to peer out at the truck as it drives up. They don’t turn up so early this time, so Stede’s already out on the porch finishing up a leisurely breakfast when Frenchie steers in to park, and Wee John, Buttons and Roach unload from the vehicle.

Roach is out the door first, eyes wild, bounding up the stairs two at a time before he skids to a halt. “Okay, okay, okay, let me get this out of the way first.” He puts his head back, clenches his fists, and screams at the sky, the sound echoing out into the meadow, practically bouncing off the mountainside. He looks no less manic when he’s done. “I can’t believe they did that.”

Stede feels the laughter bubbling up and over, because it’s delightful that they all share this mania for Tree Change. He’s truly never felt so at home in any group before, and there’s a warm glow of gratitude to have others who get it the same way. “Well, they certainly did, hmm? What did you think?”

“What did I think?” The geologist runs a hand through his curls. “I like the way Rupert’s team came together, I thought June was an incredible addition, even if I don’t fully trust her motives yet, but that was all washed aside by the way things went with Tāne.”

“Tell me about it,” Stede says, shaking his head. “I mean, we knew Rupert was going to be trying to find his way back to Tāne and it wasn’t going to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to go that badly wrong. We’ve all been shaken up.”

Ed’s out the door a moment later, still scrubbing his wet hair with a towel. “Hey, you made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it, lads.” Frenchie grins up at them from the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve got some microbes to chase. You going to show me where to find them?”

“But first, coffee,” Stede says seriously, waving at the spread on the table. “Or tea. And toast, if you’d like some. We’ve got marmalade! And then a quick look at the map.”

It’s not a speedy start to the morning in the end. With a month out here, they don’t have to get going early. They can meander their way out to whichever location they’re concentrating on this week, do—well, whatever it is they’re doing off the list today—and, by the way the morning’s meeting goes, spend perhaps 90% of their time talking about Tree Change instead. They’ve been messaging back and forth in their group chat all week, but it’s different in person.

“And then Tāne just blew the hell out of that ugly old cabin, and like. I felt that. The deep desire to turn that ugly old carpet into ashes.” John looks between them all, like he’s chasing approval. “Don’t tell me you didn’t agree.”

“I did,” Ed says, because Ed’s always been a sucker for an explosive moment, even though that… wasn’t exactly the point of this one. “Reckon he was well within his rights to blow some shit up after everything they’ve all been through.”

“That’s what I said!” John shakes his head laughing. “Should’ve heard this lot on the way up here. Aisha this, Zola that.”

“Be that as it may, this little team of characters has some work to do,” Stede says, reluctant to break it all up, but conscious, extremely so, of the declining time available to he and Ed with every moment the crew is present. “Let’s go find ourselves some samples.”

They trace their way down to the wetlands today, the swampy space between the forest and the beach, where everything looks peaceful. Reeds blowing in the wind, the groundwater ruffled with tiny waves. They’re five steps out of the car before Buttons puts his head up and makes a noise.

“Is everything all right?”

“Everything is… not all right, no.” He points out to the centre of the wetland, to a little rise, where there’s a pair of birds curled into a hollow in an old log. Some sort of borderline supernatural instinct, to take one step and zone immediately in on a detail that tiny, and Stede never fails to be impressed by the biologist’s skill for that. “Tis not the time of day for a common merganser to sit upon the nest like that.” He casts a serious glance over them all. “I’ll get my waders.”

~

It’s a long and sombre day. Each habitat they visit reveals something slightly off, though none as worrying to Buttons as the birds, which he dubs Karl and Olivia. There was a clutch of eggs tucked beneath the waterbirds, and Buttons had eventually opted to pack them all into a transport cage, taking them back to the laboratory and a heat lamp in the hope of saving them from whatever ailment they’re suffering.

Frenchie collects microbe samples from the shallow depths of the wetland’s sediments, while Roach collects soil and sand from various locations. John measures pH and salinity and various other chemical indicators, and Stede is once again grateful for this widely spread team and their expertise. As ecologists, their ultimate work is in pulling together all of this information into a picture of both the habitat and the interaction of the living things within it. The biosphere, the autecology—the individuals within it—and the synecology, the whole community. But first, they’ve each got their own focus, and this is what he loves about the work, watching it all come together from separate pieces into a combined analysis.

The crew head off in the late afternoon, leaving Stede and Ed still parked at the edge of the wetland, within spitting distance of the beach. The 4WD is parked with the rear doors flung open, and Ed’s spread a thick blanket over the floor in the back.

He rummages through the cooler until he comes up with a couple of bottles of beer, and he comes back and offers one to Stede, who accepts it gratefully, rolling it over his forehead and down across his neck before cracking off the cap.

When he looks up, Ed’s staring at him wide-eyed.

“What?”

He gestures. “You. That! Fucking… not fair, is it?”

There’s a little buzz of pleasure running through him at the sight of Ed so undone, so of course, he doubles down a bit. “What, doing this? Cooling myself off?” He pops another button open on his shirt and slides the bottle down his chest a little, moaning with genuine relief at the coolness of it.

Ed lifts his own bottle suddenly and starts chugging it. Makes Stede stop in his own tracks, because god, he’s… he’s got that long neck, above a deep vee t-shirt today, hair loose around his shoulders, and as he drinks his throat bobs in a way that ignites every single inch of Stede’s body one by one. He hits the end and tosses the bottle back into the truck with a clink, and comes stalking over, pressing Stede back against the side of the truck.

His voice is a low growl. “Shirt. Off.”

Stede blinks, frozen. “What?”

“Need your tits out for today.”

He scrambles for the mental wherewithal to remember what today’s prompts were, even as Ed’s shoving him harder back against the side of the car, flicking his buttons through one by one. “Ed,” he says, breathless. “What do you need my tits for?”

Ed smirks a little as he gets the last button through and shoves Stede’s shirt open, groaning at the sight of said tits. Stede’s never considered that there could be a single special thing about his body, but the way Ed looks at him feels like it shifts something in his brain. A whole planet tilting onto a new axis, poles realigning.

“Lactation,” Ed says distinctly, which is funny, because that—that can’t be what he meant.

Stede casts his eyes up to meet Ed’s, frowning. “Lactation?”

Ed’s hands are on his chest now, kneading the softness there, fingertips sliding through his hair, thumbs finding his nipples and executing some sort of slow swirl over them that makes Stede thump his head back against the window. “Gonna get my mouth on these and work them over.”

“You’re not going to find any milk in there!” Stede says, high-pitched with indignation. “Besides which, when Mary was lactating, the very last thing she wanted was me getting in her business. Touched out, that’s what she used to call it. All touched out, too much touch, Ed!”

Ed’s collapsed face first into Stede’s chest, shoulders heaving with laughter. “Fucking hell, mate.” He comes up for air only long enough to slide a possessive hand up Stede’s neck to cup his chin. “Being a bit literal there. It’s just a… just a fantasy thing.”

He can feel the warmth in his cheeks, and he’s not best pleased about it. “It’s a bit hard to maintain a fantasy when the only thing you associate with a topic is always getting it wrong.”

Ed leans back, that serious crease between his brows again. “Nuclear?”

“No!” He reaches out and grabs Ed’s hands, plants them back on his chest. “No, I just… I don’t think I can do the lactation thing.”

Those thumbs are circling again. “But I’m okay to play with them.”

“Please. I’d love that.”

He doesn’t need more invitation. He’s diving in there a moment later, his mouth closing hot and wet over Stede’s left nipple, sending jolts of electricity through him.

“Oh, shit.” Oh, well. All right. Maybe he underestimated this. Ed seems determined to prove that, because he’s doing something incredibly complicated with his tongue, and it feels very much like he’s doing it to Stede’s cock instead.

Stede writhes a little bit under his touch, finds his breath coming short. Ed’s making sounds, god, it’s not fair, the way his voice rumbles even from his throat. “We should… we should get in the truck, maybe.”

Ed’s breath is a warm huff against Stede’s skin as he finally relents and pops off. He looks up through his lashes and says, “Only halfway there.”

“Ed, I don’t think I can keep standing when you’re doing that to my knees.”

“To your knees,” Ed says, grinning. “Never really thought about that. I could do something to your knees, I could—“

Stede reaches out and takes him by the shirt. “In the back. Now.”

Ed’s laugh is soft and awed. “Yes, captain.”

They’re in something of a feedback loop here of turning each other on, by the sound of things, and it jolts through Stede as a burst of inspiration. He doesn’t back down and let himself be led, just… tightens his grip on the soft fabric of Ed’s tee and starts pushing him backwards. Their eyes never break contact as he marches Ed around the side of the truck and shoves him over the edge and into the back. Ed scrambles backwards, propped on his elbows, and Stede climbs over him.

His eyes are wide, his mouth dropped open, and Stede feels something feral growling to life inside him as he straddles Ed’s hips and grinds down against the answering hardness trapped in his jeans.

“Fucking hell,” Ed breathes. “When you cut loose, you really cut loose.”

In for a penny, hmm? He brought enough shirts for this sort of idiocy, but at this point in time, he’s not sure he could reason his way out of the idea even if he tried. He takes hold of the open edges of the shirt and gives them a solid yank, attempting to tear it all the way open. One button goes pinging off into the truck bed, Ed following the click and rattle with a sharp twist of his head.

“Fuck,” Stede mutters, trying not to laugh. “That was meant to be a tad more dramatic.”

“Go on,” Ed says, hands sliding up Stede’s thighs. “Take two.”

The giggle escapes him despite his better efforts, and Stede clears his throat, makes a serious face, drops his voice low and gruff. “Just lie there and… watch this.” He slides his hands lower and gives it another yank, but this time the buttons hold. And that absolutely will not do. He’s also not about to repeat such silliness, so he settles for yanking it up over his head instead, promptly getting tangled in the collar, wrestling with it until he manages to yank it off and hurl it against the window with a thwack.

Ed’s laughing so hard there are tears glistening in his eyes, but he also looks utterly wrecked. “Fuck,” he breathes, calming down, fingers working over Stede’s thighs. “How the fuck did you make that so hot?”

Stede shrugs modestly. “I have a certain natural charisma.”

Thankfully, Ed doesn’t laugh at that, just nods slowly, and then grinds his hips up again. “Sure fucking do. Think I had one more nipple to get to, mate. And then…”

His brain’s been utterly scrambled by the arousal that’s rushing through him, and it takes him a moment to recall the prompts. “Oh. Face-sitting?”

Ed nods again, pupils dark. “Need you to sit on my fucking face like, yesterday.”

Stede snorts. “Well, that’s a technical impossibility, but—“ He’s been stroking fingers through the swirl of dark hair on Ed’s belly, and Ed snatches his wrist and tugs him so fast that he tilts forward, only just catching himself before he manages to headbutt Ed, or something equally embarrassing.

“Scoot up,” Ed says softly. “Let me at it.”

Well, it’s a progression of sorts, he’ll pay that. He shuffles further up, ignoring the hardness of the floor through the blankets as he kneels over Ed and lowers himself down until—“Oh, god.”

Ed’s arched his neck gracefully to lean up and take the right nipple between his teeth, and now he sucks it gently, laving at it with his tongue, and Stede lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, pressing his cock against Ed’s ribs. It’s slow this time. Ed’s hand is steady on his lower back now, keeping him pressed close as he snuffles into Stede’s chest hair and licks, the slick sound loud in the confines of the vehicle. Ed’s letting out little muffled hums, eyes squeezed shut, and it’s all getting a bit much.

“Ed, Ed,” he says, and Ed lets him go, dropping his head back to the floor. His beard’s glistening with spit, and his stare is almost glassy as he sighs with satisfaction.

“Fucking love your tits.”

He hums, wishing he didn’t ache quite so much, because god. He never thought the word lactation would play into anything that had him feeling like this, but apparently he needs to be even more open-minded than he’d even thought. He’s going to take that boldness and run with it. “And I love your mouth, Edward, and I’d like to use it better.”

“Fuck,” Ed groans again, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Fuck, you’re too fucking good at this.” He leans over and snatches up his jacket, folds it into a rolled up flat sort of pillow, and shoves it under his own head. Uses his hands to fluff his hair out around him, arranging himself like a storybook princess on a bed of flowers, and laces his hands together above his head, exposing his well-toned biceps in a way that makes Stede’s mouth water. “Hit me.”

He drops his mouth open, and Stede’s not going to waste any time taking that offer. He unzips himself and shoves his trousers down; for a moment he thinks he can pull this off just that fast, but no, if he leaves them shoved down, he’ll be half-strangling Ed with the fabric pressed against his neck, and he won’t risk that. He wriggles enough to shove them down and all the way off instead, kicking off his boots while he’s at it, and quite suddenly he’s naked in the back of the truck, Ed still fully dressed, laid out under him.

“Oh. Hmm. And face-sitting, is that…” He wrinkles his nose. “Is it different to face-fucking? What am I doing here?”

Ed slides his hands around the underside of Stede’s thighs and tugs him up. “If you had a cunt, I’d be licking that.”

There’s still heat rushing to his face as Ed tugs him higher, prompting him to grab hold of the top of the seats to hold himself up as he kneels on either side of Ed’s head. “Ah. And lacking that—“

“Usually I’d be licking your ass instead.” Ed flicks his eyes up and gives a little sideways grin. “Not into that, though, like we talked about.” He presses a kiss to the inside of Stede’s thigh, and Stede lets out a shaky breath as he nods. God, it feels like a lifetime ago, not just yesterday. Rimming, and Ed’s not into giving it, happy to receive it, he remembers.

“You don’t have to—“

“I know.” A kiss to the opposite thigh, a nuzzle into the crease of his leg. “Fucking love sucking your cock, though, so I figure it’s close enough. So face-fucking, yeah, but you can have a turn at that when the actual prompt comes up.”

“I should think so.” He grips the seat backs as Ed drops his mouth open and licks a line up the seam of his balls, making him almost convulse with need. “God, Ed—“

He keeps that up for another minute, pressing his tongue around Stede’s balls, sucking gently, working his way up. He shifts Stede’s thighs with his hands until he’s far enough back that his cock drops against Ed’s waiting lips, and then Ed swirls his tongue around the head, and all the breath leaves his body.

“Use your hand,” Ed says. “Guide it in, yeah? And… hold on tight.”

The phrase for today, god. He nods. He can do that. He follows Ed’s instruction, and—oh, it’s a lot. It’s a lot, pressing his cock into the wet heat of Ed’s mouth as he swallows and sucks. And then he… stops. Just pauses with Stede caught in his mouth, and so does Stede, and there’s only Ed blinking up at him with his big eyes, Stede’s cock lodged deep, and the sound of their shared breathing.

Stede is sitting, sort of. Trying not to put too much pressure into things. Trying not to spill in seconds, because the heat of Ed’s mouth is incredible. He grips the seats tighter, and Ed grips his thighs tighter, and then he pulls Stede down, deeper.

It’s the combined stimulation of the nipple play, and seeing Ed laid out for him like this, and the perfect pressure, but Stede barely has time to warn him before his orgasm crashes through him. Ed holds him tightly there, swallowing everything he’s got to give, and when Stede finally pulls away, shaky with the intensity of it all, he sucks in a breath.

“Are you all right? Was that—“ He doesn’t get a chance to finish, because Ed grabs his arm and pulls it out from under him, dropping him onto the blanket with a surprised huff. “Ed?”

Ed’s working on his button as he swings his leg over to straddle Stede, and in a second he’s got it open, shoving his jeans down, taking out his cock. “I’m going to come on your tits. That okay?”

He bites his lip to try to hold in the sound that prompts, and he’s only half successful. Gives a little gesture at the now slightly sweaty expanse of his chest and says, “Have at it!”

It’s Ed’s turn to lean over and grab hold of the seat back with one hand as he works himself over, tugging his cock slowly at first, the flushed head appearing and disappearing into his fist. His pace picks up until his hand’s flying, and then he scrunches his eyes shut and says, “Fuck,” and a moment later he’s spurting all over Stede’s chest.

God, but it’s fascinating to watch up close, even if that means Stede gets a bit splattered on his chin, his neck. Ed wrings every bit of pleasure out, and then he drops to the blanket and slaps around until he finds the wet wipes that he’d packed in the car that morning.

“You knew you were going to use them for this, didn’t you?” Stede says.

Ed gives him a little side-eye as he swipes the cool cloth over Stede’s chest. “Maybe.”

“I thought they were for cleaning up after lunch.”

Ed grins over at him. “I’d call this after lunch.”

It’s well after lunch, the sky now dyed in bands of gold and orange and purple as the night approaches. Stede, for his part, can barely bring himself to move. “Maybe we just stay here all night.”

“Might be more mosquito bite than man by the morning, mate.”

Ed keeps wiping, his neck, his chin, and as he leans over Stede tugs him down and kisses him. It’s easy like this, the two of them, but perhaps it’s simply because this boundary has been set widely. Yes, they can kiss. Yes, they can do… all of this. And at the end of the month, they can go back to not doing it, probably.

Ed breaks away to fold himself properly down beside Stede, tucked under his arm. They stare out through the open rear door at the sunset together, and Stede lets himself have a moment to twirl Ed’s hair between his fingers. Pondering… change.

“Do you think the new Tree Change season will affect things?”

Ed lifts his head enough to squint up at him. “What things?”

Everything, he’d like to say. The thought of watching these episodes with Ed, seeing this momentous conclusion to the story play out while they’re so deeply embedded in it themselves… he can’t quite imagine them reaching the end of this month without it factoring in.

“Our story,” he says instead, and then he clarifies. “Our fic.”

“Huh.” Ed squeezes him. “Setting it in the 18th century means it was always going to be different, yeah?”

“But the vibes.” The ones he’s still trying to shake off, days later, the unsettling, ill feeling of having seen their favourite characters go through so much pain. “I feel like it’s already changing the way I see them.”

“I get that.” Ed ponders it, looking thoughtful. “We’ve only seen three episodes, y’know? Everything could change next week, pull it back on track.”

They’ve now seen a preview for the next two episodes, and it certainly seems possible. Because they’re together again now, he has to remind himself. And according to those advance peeks, things are… rocky. There’s a lot of intrigue they’re facing as they zero in on the Stafford Oil and Gas company’s true intentions. But there’s hope, because he knows there’s going to be a happy ending. He knows it. He trusts them.

“I suppose we’ll just have to see how it goes,” he says, and Ed nudges him.

“You okay?”

“Good. Excellent. Never better.”

It’s only a second later that Ed slaps him on the chest, and before he can protest, lifts his hand to show a squashed mosquito. “Everything wants a taste of those.” He presses a kiss to Stede’s pec and shoves himself up. “Get dressed, let’s get back to the cabin. We can do some more planning then.”

~

The next evening, after another day of work and a restorative shower, Ed stretches out on the couch in the lounge. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows Stede’s looking, from his perch in the armchair. He’s got his laptop out, pecking away at some first bits of the story, and if Ed knows anything it’s that Stede’s probably outlining a little more there. And that’s good. Lean into your strengths and all that.

He also has a feeling that Stede doesn’t want to admit that he’s planning it out more, and he’s a little worried that’s because of… this.

The whole situation, the Kinktober thing. Stede likes order, patterns, planning. And yeah, they’ve got the whole list they’re following, that’s part of the point. But it’s spontaneous, too. Even the shit they’ve planned for hasn’t gone exactly the way Ed’s expected every time.

He wants Stede to feel comfortable with both. Planning, jumping in wherever. So he stretches, lets the t-shirt ride up over his belly, flexes a little. Arm day at the gym’s been worth it, and he knows he’s strong right now. He’s eyeing off that wall sex prompt in a couple of weeks already, tossing up whether he wants to shove Stede against a wall or have Stede heft him up there.

Fuck, he’s fantasising about the guy in the middle of the actual prompt list, and not for the first time in his life, Ed wishes his head was a quieter place.

“Edward,” Stede says, and he twists a little to look.

“Yeah?”

Stede’s got an amused half smile on his face, maybe as into this as Ed’s been hoping. “You’re fidgeting. A lot.”

“Me? Huh.” He stretches again, wriggles a little. “Doesn’t sound like me.”

There’s the soft snick of Stede closing his laptop, the clink of him setting it on the table. “Something on your mind?”

You. Always. All the time. “Maybe.” He casts a backwards glance. “You?”

“Mm.” Stede rubs a thumb over his lip, and then he says, “I was thinking about Izzy, actually.”

Ed scrunches his eyes shut. “Fuck, that—yeah no, that’s killed the mood, what the fuck?” He swings his legs over and sits, pivoting to face Stede. He’s not looking turned on at all, now that Ed’s actually upright. He’s looking a little worried. “You okay?”

He sighs. “It’s just the whole… Tāne and Keith storyline.”

Right. Right, yeah. Not the first time they’ve thought about it. So Keith’s a little older than Tāne in Tree Change, and over the years his relationship with Tāne—such that they have one at all—has been getting more toxic. Tāne’s a soil specialist, Keith’s an air specialist, which he knows they chose for deliberate contrast. They’re opposites, but they’ve always worked together, and Keith’s always done whatever Tāne needed. He’s been the right-hand man, the lieutenant, the one they turn to whenever they need someone to make a decisive, fiery difference.

But at the end of last season it had shifted badly, and although it was Rupert who walked away and broke Tāne’s heart, Keith had been the one who nudged him toward violent oblivion in Rupert’s absence.

And then, regretted the shit out of it after, when Tāne turned his own explosives on him and blasted off his arm. “Fucking complicated,” Ed says simply. Keith didn’t deserve that, but Tāne didn’t deserve what came before it. Nobody wins, and it’s… familiar.

Stede heaves a sigh. “I just… the conversation about it makes it feel like we’re all watching a different show sometimes.”

Keith has seriously committed fans and seriously committed enemies, and nothing gets the fandom going like these conversations. “We kind of are, though, aren’t we?”

Stede lifts a brow. “Are we?”

Ed settles back into his seat, hooks an ankle over the opposite thigh. “Everyone brings their own experience to watching it. So everyone takes different things away.”

“But the source material, the writers’ intentions—“

“Don’t always match up to the interpretations, yeah.” Still, that’s kind of how it goes. Doesn’t mean people are right about it; doesn’t mean they’re wrong, either. Not to feel the way they do, at least; you can’t always choose your feelings, just… what you do with them. And that storyline’s always made Ed feel some things, and Stede knows that, and it’s exactly why he mentioned it.

“Have you talked to Izzy lately?” Stede asks delicately. “I was just thinking that maybe… maybe I should ask his opinion about the sycamores.”

They’re specialists in the same area of plant biology, and yeah, Stede came in after Izzy had already walked, but the brief few times they’ve seen each other since, Izzy’s treated Stede like he’s the fucking devil, and above all other things he’s got beef with Izzy for, Ed fucking hates that. “I don’t know, mate, I think you’ve got it covered.”

He can almost hear the cogs turning in Stede’s head. “Maybe it’s more… that those episodes got me thinking. A bit. About Izzy, and… everything.”

Ed raises a brow. “Yeah?”

“It’s not that I’m comparing all of us to Tāne and Rupert and Keith. Not any more than we ever have before. Certainly not the way the new season’s gone.”

Ed snorts. “Don’t leave me at the docks if you don’t want to see my wolverine era.” Stede blinks. Ed curses himself, because Stede knows his history. Everything he’s tried to leave behind, from the bad days with his dad to the petty crime era that came after. “I don’t have a wolverine era in me, don’t worry.”

Stede bounces right over that. “And we’re also… we’re also not together, of course. Not like Rupert and Tāne.”

This is going to give Ed a headache in another minute. “Yeah, no. No, we’re… we’re just friends.” Who’ve fucked like, six times more than Tāne and Rupert ever managed. “And we talk, obviously. Say the shit we need to.”

“Of course we do!” Stede bursts out, follows it up with a nervous little laugh. “No room for misinterpretation here.” He clears his throat. “All of which is to say, I know that things didn’t end so well with Izzy.”

“Yeah, well. He’s smart enough to have fucked off before things blew up even more, pun intended.” He gets what Stede’s trying to do here, he does, but… “It’s in the past, man. It’s over. It’s all right.”

Stede lets out a breath, rubs his palms on his trousers. “Good. Yes. I just couldn’t help thinking—“

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Ed reaches out his hand, and Stede leans over and takes it, squeezes. “We’re friends, I can sort my own shit out.”

Stede’s doing that big blinking puppy thing with his eyes. “Of course. That wasn’t what I intended.”

The mood’s gone weird, that’s what’s happened. Five minutes ago Ed was lounging around like a cat, just waiting for Stede to pick up the day’s sex prompts, and now they’ve both made it a little awkward. He knows Stede cares. Loves that. Also needs him to… not. Do that specific thing.

He sighs, admits defeat to himself. “It’s been a day. Might head toward the bedroom.”

The puppy dog eyes intensify. Stede looks like he’s going to say something, and then he clamps his mouth shut instead. “All right. Yes. That seems fair.”

Ed goes. Brushes his teeth, cursing a bit as he does, giving himself some serious eyebrows as he bares his foamy teeth in the mirror. He slides past Stede as they trade out, strips out of his clothes, tosses them aside and climbs under the covers. He considered wearing something to sleep out here and then decided fuck it, he’d do it the way he does at home, bonus points if it awakens something in Stede.

But no, Stede’s still wearing black briefs and a tight white t-shirt, and he switches off the light as he comes out of the bathroom, plunging them both into darkness.

The bed creaks and tilts when he climbs in, and Stede stays on his side, and for some inexplicable reason, Ed can feel panic tickling through his body. This isn’t going to fly. He reaches out and finds Stede’s hip, shuffles across the bed until he can press himself along Stede’s back, and just wraps him up in a hug. Holds him tightly, until Stede takes a shuddery breath.

“I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t.” He presses a soft kiss to Stede’s neck. “It wasn’t a bad idea.”

“Of course it was. I only have stupid ideas.” But the tension is easing as Ed holds him, and Ed’s panic is receding. Stede takes a long breath. “I’ve still got a lot of thoughts in my head about those episodes, and I don’t know how to get them out. I’ve read a bit of meta today that made a lot of sense, about how Rupert finally seems to have accepted that Keith is part of the crew, even if Tāne couldn’t see it that way. Even though he knew Keith was involved, even when Keith tried to take the blame, and it just… it made me think about how gracious I’ve been toward difficult people in my life. And… not gracious, sometimes.”

Ed nods, nose bumping the back of Stede’s neck. “Don’t think I’m ready to face those thoughts myself yet. We’re all on different timelines for figuring our shit out like that, right?”

“Right. Yes, right, of course.”

“It gave us a lot to think about. In three days, we’ll know more. Feels like we can’t know the shape of the story until we get to the end, yeah?”

“Mm.”

It’s not only about the show, Ed knows that. It’s not only about Izzy, either. It’s Stede here now, thinking about their story, not the one they’re writing, the one they’re living. They can’t know the shape of it til they get to the end either, but they’ve gotta live it first. They’ve gotta live this. He tugs Stede over until they’re face to face, breathing the same air. “Frottage,” he tells Stede, trying to keep his voice steady. “And stuffing. You want to leave those? We can skip anything, for any reason.”

Stede shakes his head, eyes gleaming in the dark. “I don’t want to miss them. What do we do? I don’t… I don’t really know either.”

Ed reaches down between them to palm Stede’s cock through his briefs. Half hard under the thin material, swelling the more he massages. “Just like this for frottage. I can rub you off, we can rub against each other, against something else—“

“Like a pillow,” Stede says.

“Like a pillow, if you don’t mind jizz on your pillow.”

Stede buries his face on Ed’s shoulder, laughing. “I’m not—no, I think… maybe not the jizz pillow. And… stuffing?”

“Oh mate, there are… so many different interpretations out there. Some people have a thing for being, I dunno, fed a lot?”

“All right,” Stede says. “Not that one.”

“No. So, uh, there are a bunch more options, but one of them is leaving your cock inside after you’ve come. Just like, hanging out there, waiting to get hard again, so you can do it more than once.”

Stede frowns. “And is that… likely?”

“Dunno, never really tried it. Maybe we give it a go?”

“All right,” Stede says, sounding slightly breathless. “Right. So one of us fucks the other, and while they’re doing that, the other person will… rub against something, until they come.”

“Sounds like a fucking exam when you put it like that.”

“If only more exams had been that exciting,” Stede says, grinning. “And would you, uh. Would you like? Me to? Or you to—“

“I’d really, really fucking like it if you fucked me tonight, Stede.” Reaching between them again, Ed can feel how much harder Stede is now, his cock almost uncurling as it rises. “You fuck me. I’ll rub one out, against something. And then you stay inside me and we see how we go.”

“All right. Yes. Yes, that sounds… perfect.”

There’s a bit of shifting involved, turning over so that Ed’s back is to Stede. And then there’s the slick slide of lube between his ass cheeks, and Stede’s fingers pressing deep as he murmurs gentle words of praise. The verbal cue today was mommy/ daddy, and it’s a hard no for both of them, so that made that agreement easy as hell. They don’t even have to raise it again.

Sir, though. Ed kind of likes calling Stede sir.

“Is that good?” Stede asks, three fingers deep, pinging his prostate and sounding concerned.

“Yes, sir,” Ed moans into the pillow, his brain going a little fuzzy with it. “More, please.”

It’s good. It’s so good, even before Stede lines himself up and presses his cock into Ed’s body again. This time, Ed’s ass adapts around it so much more easily; a little prep, a little practice do wonders. Stede lets out a shattered breath. “God, you feel so good.”

“Mmmphmm,” Ed murmurs into the pillow as Stede presses deep into him from behind. “Just like that.”

It’s slow, and slick, and easy. Stede rocks into him steadily, and Ed gets a hand over his cock, over the sheet for extra friction, and he lets his whole body sway with the motion of Stede’s thrusts. Deep, deep, steady and slow, his breath falling into a rhythm as Stede’s lips brush the back of his neck, the warmth of his body plastered all along Ed’s.

There’s no rush. There’s no race. There’s just the slowest possible ignition of this tinder between them, sunlight through a magnifying glass, a curl of smoking heat as Stede hits his prostate and Ed gasps out loud. The pace picks up a little, but Stede never stops sliding into him so exactly that it’s like he belongs there, and always has.

“I’m close,” he gasps out. “Almost—almost—"

“Fuck yes,” Ed slurs into the pillow, and lets Stede’s hips grind him harder against the bed, until the pressure of his own hand pulls him up and over the edge, moaning as his climax rushes through him.

Stede’s stiffening, pulsing deep a moment later. Draped down over him, tugging him sideways, pulling them into a spoon position. Stede’s managed to keep his cock inside, and he’s still there now, a breach, a perfect intrusion. Ed feels pulled apart, split open and filled.

“And if I stay like this forever, can I keep fucking you forever?” Stede murmurs, sounding sleepy.

“Think that’d kinda be the whole point, yeah.”

“Good,” Stede whispers. His arms are already going slack around Ed’s waist, and he knows they’re not going to get a second run at this tonight, even if Stede managed to stay inside him until his cock’s ready for a second round. It’s the principle, though. It’s the thought that counts. Maybe one day they can revisit all of these when they’ve got all the time in the world, and they’re not coming a minimum of once a day.

Stede’s still in there, still holding on, but there’s the slightest hint of a snore from him, where his nose is pressed to Ed’s neck.

Ed can’t help but chuckle, even as it makes Stede’s cock slip a little. This is even better, dozing off fused together like this.

He trusts Stede, like he’s never trusted anyone in his life. Maybe that’s what he needs to say first. Maybe he will, tomorrow. Or… the next day. At least soon.

~

The morning dawns sticky and damp, after they fell asleep like that last night, and Stede can’t help his grimace as he rolls out of bed and heads for the bathroom, leaving Ed still sprawled out and sleeping.

Ed’s up by the time he’s done, out there humming in his favourite pink robe. Stede makes his way out to the kitchen and sets about rummaging for breakfast, stepping around Ed as if they’ve choreographed every movement.

He sits at the little dining table, and Ed drops into the seat beside him, not opposite, so that they’re almost leaning arm to arm as they eat in companionable silence.

“Meadow today?” Ed sounds almost hopeful about it, and Stede stares at him over his bowl of breakfast cereal for a few moments before the pieces click together.

Oh. Okay, he’s not talking about the work, or not only. “Did you have something in mind?”

Ed leans back in his chair, stretches his arms over his head. He’s wearing his favourite black jeans today, a little scuffed, and a black t-shirt that rides up at the waist, revealing a strip of skin that makes Stede’s mouth water. Especially now that he knows exactly how it tastes to kiss a line down from Ed’s navel, through that thicket of dark hair and all the way to the prize of his cock. Ed takes in his stare with a hooded gaze and a little smirk. “Bit of water sampling for me, where the creek runs through. Thought you could get a head start on cataloguing the species that are out there.”

“Mostly weeds,” Stede says mournfully. “Beautiful weeds, mind you.”

“They really fucking are, aren’t they?”

The mountain sits to the north here, so the sun rises and sets to either side of it, east and west. Evenings send the warm light spilling across the meadow in one direction; mornings switch the tide of sunshine back the other way. Scattered everywhere amidst the grass are many-petalled daisies that turn their faces to follow the light, opening up at the start of the day, folding back in on themselves as the night falls. In between, the whole field almost glows, an enormous span of yellow and orange, every shade of each.

Stede clears his throat. “Anything else on the slate?”

Ed shoves his phone across the table, and Stede scoops it up. It’s already open on the prompts, dark screen, white writing, and today’s stand out in livid detail.

“Facials,” Stede says, and he wrinkles his nose as he looks up. “They don’t mean cucumber slices and cold cream, do they?”

Ed chuckles. “Nope.” He flicks his loose hair over one shoulder, then the other. That t-shirt’s long been a favourite of Stede’s, because it’s cut low, dipping well beneath the hawk that’s tattooed between Ed’s collarbone, revealing a field of dark hair. “It means you’ve gotta come. On my face.”

“Right.” Just the thought of it sends a shiver through him, remembering the way Ed came over his chest yesterday. “In the… meadow?”

Ed’s smile is so wide, he’d almost look angelic, if not for the darkness of his eyes. “What do you think?”

Stede conjures up the image as best he can, letting his imagination spin. It doesn’t take much now. He’s seen Ed in almost every position. Watched his face as he comes, the way his mouth falls open and a little frown draws his brows together, concentrating so hard on the sensations as they break and scatter through him. The thought, just the thought of Ed staring up at him as Stede’s come spills over and splatters across those beautiful lips, has him so hard in moments that it almost hurts.

“I think it’s an excellent idea,” he says hoarsely. “You only have excellent ideas.”

Ed tilts his head. “I know.” He nods to the phone. “And the rest?”

Stede squints down at the words, and feels his brain stutter to something of a halt. “Breeding?”

Ed nods. “More role-play. Like, I can fill you up. Plug it in there. Like…” He trails off. “Uh.”

“Like you want to get me pregnant,” Stede says, hardly hearing the words as they fall out of his mouth. “Like I’m—“

“Like you’re someone who can get pregnant,” Ed finishes for him. “But fantasy, yeah? I mean, fuck, anything’s possible.”

“There is,” he says, laughing weakly, “nothing hot about pregnancy.”

Ed bites his lip. “Rough time?”

He’s suppressed a very great deal of those days with Mary, but he remembers certain aspects all too well. “I wasn’t sure I’d survive, Ed. I thought she was going to skewer me in the earhole while I slept sometimes. There was… a lot of latent rage there. Also a lot of swollen ankles and fingers and vomiting, god, did I mention how much vomiting was involved? Such an incredible amount of vomiting. Why on earth do these things keep coming up in the kink list?”

Ed’s propped his chin on his hand now, doing his level best not to laugh. “Well, fuck. A lot of people are into it, but—“

“I’m sure most people aren’t overthinking this idea to that degree.” He levels Ed with a look. “What would Rupert and Tāne do?”

He grins. “Feel like Rupert would make the exact same face you’re making right now.”

“I concur. And Tāne?”

Ed shifts his chair, a squeak of legs on the scuffed boards, until he’s made it around to Stede’s side. Up close, his eyes are almost glowing. “There’s another version I reckon he might like a lot better.”

~

Ed lets that one linger as they go about getting ready for their day. The meadow’s just next to the house, so they don’t have to drive. They both throw on backpacks and wander down into the field, chatting all the way.

The morning’s conversation segues across a wide range of topics, from favourite cartoons growing up to ice cream topping preferences and everything in between. Once they’re out in the literal field, they don’t stray far from one another. Anytime Stede pops his head up from between the flowers, he can see Ed just a few yards further across the wildflower meadow, and it’s comforting every time. He’s never felt less alone in his life, even though it’s just the two of them out here and they are in reality deeply isolated together.

Ed feels like everything Stede’s ever needed, and he’s going to tell him that, one day. Eventually. For now he concentrates on his tablet, marking off each species as he identifies it, adding in notes about the soil, the health of the leaves. There’s nothing especially out of place here. The field has indeed been utterly overrun by invasive species, as beautiful as they are; in the course of the day he’s lucky to spot two different plants that are native to the area.

Finally, it’s lunchtime, and Ed tips his head to indicate the other side of the little creek. They both hop over it, Ed reaching back for his hand to steady him as he takes his turn, and then Ed doesn’t let go as they wander through the flowers. Something about that feels almost more intimate than anything they’ve shared yet.

“Thought we might stop over here,” Ed says conversationally, coming to a halt, dropping his backpack off his shoulder. “Seemed like a nice view.”

Stede’s breath stutters in his throat as Ed bends down and pulls out the picnic blanket, fluffing it out and letting it drift down to settle on the flat ground. He’s picked a genuinely stunning spot, to an extent that the it feels almost framed by the environment more than part of it. As if this whole world is a diorama, and Ed’s going to be the centrepiece of it, the majestic mountains and trees and flowers reduced to a backdrop against his loveliness.

“I’ve never seen a more beautiful view in my life,” Stede says sincerely. He’d like to worship Ed, and if that’s not precisely what he’s doing here, he doesn’t know what else could be. He grabs hold of Ed’s hand before he can turn back to his supplies and reels him back in, kisses him earnestly when they collide.

Ed lets out a breathless chuckle when Stede pulls away. “What was that for?”

“Sorry. Sorry, I got carried away.” He gestures. “Just overcome, a little bit, with how lovely this is.”

“I know you like flowers,” Ed says softly, like that’s not the single most direct Cupid’s arrow strike to Stede’s heart ever. “Thought you might like to be out in them sometimes.”

“Yes,” he says. Ed doesn’t just mean professionally, he hears that. He understands Stede fully, his delight in bright, delicate things, those childhood memories he’s confided of picking flowers and being relentlessly bullied for it, until he made it his vocation as an ultimate act of defiance against the past. “You thought exactly right.”

He’s hungry at the moment, but it turns out he’s not hungry for anything more than he is for Ed. “Should we start with food, or—“

“I mean… if we start with the rest, I’m going to be eating my lunch with come in my beard, probably.” Ed’s grin shows a white line of teeth. “I don’t mind, but—“

“After lunch,” Stede agrees hastily.

They eat briskly, just sandwiches, nothing too heavy, and afterwards he glances sideways at Ed as they sip their tea from the thermoses. He didn’t ask if they were going to do all the things here, or just… some, or…

“Hey,” Ed says, reading his face. “You happy with this?”

“Yes.” He’s never been so distinctly, constantly happy in perhaps his whole life as he has been this past week. “Incredibly so. Just pondering the mechanics.”

“Well,” Ed says, screwing the cap back onto his thermos, tossing it aside, leaning back on his hands. “I thought I’d kneel here. And you can jerk off until you come all over my face, pretty simple.”

“Right. Yes.” Ed’s preening in the sun like a cat, and the angle is highlighting the hardness of his nipples under that thin t-shirt. Under there, he has miles of skin, so much of it tattooed, and his glorious cock, too. “Undressed?”

His lip curls in a heated smile, confirmation. “Nice weather for it.”

It is; beautifully warm today without being too scorching. The sky’s high and achingly blue and clear, just a few shreds of clouds drifting around. The sun’s poaching them gently, casting shadows on the mountain, the air is still, and it caresses Stede’s skin where his sleeves are rolled up. “And me? How do you want me?”

“Hmm.” Ed looks up at him thoughtfully. “Kind of like the idea of you staying dressed. I don’t know, like… you happened across a kinky fuckin’ flower god out here in the wilderness, and he asked you to pay some fucking… tribute or something.”

Stede’s finding breath hard to come by. “And the tribute is—“

“Your jizz, yeah, mate. That’s the price of passing this little grove.”

He nods, almost dizzy with the desire that’s flooding through his veins now. “Seems fair.”

Ed’s already reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, grinning to himself. It takes him a minute to unlace his boots, shuffle off his jeans and underwear. He tosses them in a pile beside the blanket, and then he pulls his hair out of the bun and shakes it around his shoulders, before gathering half of it back up again into a loose knot, leaving the rest out.

He settles on his knees, palms down on his thighs, and looks up at Stede with those big, sparkling eyes of his, and nods. “Hand it over, then.”

He absolutely throbs with need as he unbuttons his cargos and shoves them down. His cock is aching as he gets a hand to it, so heated that his palm feels cool in comparison, and he shudders with relief as he begins to stroke himself. This is not going to last long, not with Ed staring up at him like that, so compliant and so sweet.

“Come closer,” Ed says. He’s so still that he could be an art class model or something, all lined up like that. “Don’t want you to waste a single fucking drop.”

His breath huffs out on a slight moan. “No, I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t want to short-change you.”

He does edge closer, the ground uneven under his boots, and Ed slides his knees apart, not moving his gaze an inch. It gives enough space for Stede to stand right between his thighs, hand now flying over his cock. There’s so much open air out here, but he can still hear the slick slide of every motion, so incredibly aroused. Ed’s not staring at his cock, he’s staring at Stede’s face.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, low and warm. “Fucking beautiful.”

“You!” Stede gasps, his rhythm faltering, recovering. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He means it. Everything else in the world pales next to Ed, the way the sun is lighting his cheekbones, the way his plush lips are dropping open now, his gaze knowing. He would worship Ed for the rest of his life if he had the chance, through every sweet and filthy moment they could possibly conjure.

His orgasm rushes up on him quite suddenly, and he groans as his hips stutter. He’s not the least bit coordinated as he strips himself through it, and his spend arcs and splatters across Ed’s face, yes, painting his lips with milky white, spatters across his cheeks, glistening in his beard, but also down his neck and his chest, sliding over one nipple. There’s a little splatter across Ed’s own cock, resting there hard between his thighs, and that’s what does it.

Stede’s knees are literally shaking, and he all but collapses onto the rug next to Ed. Goes down onto his knees and keels all the way over onto his back, splayed out in the sunlight as he shuffles his pants back up. Ed’s turning himself around a moment later, stretching out down to lie next to him. He hasn’t wiped a single drop of Stede’s come off himself, and somehow that’s even more erotic than the process of getting it there.

He doesn’t know what instinct overcomes him, but he reaches out and tilts Ed’s chin his way. Bends in and licks his cheek, tasting himself on Ed’s skin, and then he keeps going, until Ed’s face is clear again.

“There we are,” he says, voice unexpectedly husky.

Ed’s laughing. “You just stole it all back.”

He lifts his arm, and Ed slides in against his chest, the two of them curled together in the warmth of the day, Ed still entirely bare. “Plenty more where that came from.”

It feels good, having Ed snort against his shoulder with mirth. “I fuckin’ hope so. Think I might keep you.”

Another flip of his heart, because god, if only he meant that literally. There’s so much trust between them, so much now, and there’s nothing Stede would like more than to make it permanent. He’s still thinking about the other half of the prompt. “And when are we getting to the, uh. The breeding portion of the day?”

“Tonight,” Ed says, and kisses his cheek. “We’ll feel it out, see what you think. And if it’s a no, we can find something else to do, or we can do nothing. No pressure.”

He nods, grateful. “That was… illuminating.”

“Good thing it’s my turn again tomorrow.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah.” He reaches up and tweaks Stede’s nipple through his shirt. “Finally made it to the titty-fucking, mate. That and a pearl necklace, not the kind from the sea.”

~

Ed’s almost forgotten about the other half of the prompt by the time they get back to the cabin that evening, but after they’ve packed things away, Stede’s out there on the porch, elbows on the railing as he stares out at the sunset glow of the field, swaying his ass from side to side. He’s wearing his usual khaki, always a little tighter than it needs to be, the seams stretching around his fucking incredible calves. Tight red t-shirt today that almost matches the fields, like he’s the next progression after the darker shades of orange. Blooming here, meant to be part of the biosphere.

The need jolts through Ed so hard that he can’t help it. Has to go over there and press himself up behind Stede, making himself known. “Hey.”

“Oh, hello.” Stede twists a little to look back at him. “Something you needed?”

“Think so.” He squeezes Stede’s hips, the solid breadth of them between his hands. “You ever read Omegaverse? Maybe we should write some in.”

He’d swear he feels the shiver that runs through Stede at that. “Hmm. A little bit. I know of it, at least.”

“Good, good, well. Breeding.” He slides his hand around to pop the button on Stede’s trousers, tugs down the zip, and gets his fingers under the waistband, wiggling them slowly down. Stede shifts his hips a little to help. “Alpha, beta, omega.”

“What would you be?” Stede sounds a little breathless about it.

“Oh mate, I don’t know about me, but… Tāne? Classic alpha.”

“Huh.” He lets Ed shove the trousers right down to his ankles, and then Ed digs in his pocket and gets out the lube he’d stashed earlier. Clicks it open and squeezes some over his fingers. Stede’s gripping the railing with both hands, head hanging.

“You good with this?”

“Yes, very.” He wiggles his ass a little, and Ed chuckles as he slides his fingers into Stede’s crack.

“Rupert, let’s call him an omega for the story. Because then Tāne can breed him up.”

Stede huffs out a breath. “Fuck. You’re right, that… somehow sounds more appealing than the alternative. Somehow?”

“That’s what this is all about, figuring out what pushes your buttons.” Ed presses a third finger into Stede’s hot centre, listens to his breath turn into a shredded sort of gasp. “Tāne can fuck him good and thorough, come as many times as he needs to, get that knot in there to plug it all in.”

Stede moans as Ed pulls his fingers back out and slicks up his cock. “And are they… human? Werewolves?”

“Werewolf appeal to you?” Ed lines himself up without hesitation and presses into Stede, watching his cock disappear inside as Stede shakes under him.

“More partial to vampires myself,” Stede gasps out eventually. “But werewolves will do.”

Ed rocks his hips a little, feeling the soft clutch of Stede’s body around his cock, no less fucking lost in it than he’s ever been so far. It’s so fucking good. Stede’s so fucking tight, god. He opens his mouth to let out whatever filth hits him in the moment, and it’s right then that Stede’s phone jumps and buzzes on the nearby table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call, too far away to see it.

“Fuck,” Stede groans, and then he yells in the general direction of the phone, “Fuck off! We’re busy here.”

Ed rewards him with another thrust, deeper this time, and Stede’s knuckles go white on the railing.

The phone again, buzzing with a message this time.

Ed fucks into him again, and again.

The phone buzzes.

Stede lets out a growl of frustration. “What if that’s an emergency? We should check, shouldn’t we?”

“We should finish what we started,” Ed says in what he hopes like fuck is a commanding kind of voice. “Don’t want to leave you all fucking… in heat and desperate, right?”

“It feels like that sometimes,” Stede gasps. “Feels like there’s some sort of imperative in my body when I’m around you, and no way to quench it.” He presses back into Ed. “I can take more. That’s the cue for today, isn’t it? Because it’s true, I can take more.”

Ed squeezes his eyes shut, bites his lip to hold it back. There’s a cool breeze washing over them, and everything feels incredibly clear for once. I love you, I love you, I fucking—

The phone buzzes again, and he sighs, because he can see the writing on the wall here. He slides himself out of Stede, holding his still-heavy cock in his hand. “You want to go see what that’s about? We can pick this up again when you turn it off. No more distractions.”

Stede shuffles his trousers back up, looking just as pissed as Ed feels, and heads over to the table. When he picks it up there’s a slew of green notifications on the screen, and he frowns at them. “What’s… what is this?”

Ed comes to stand beside him as he opens it up and starts poking through the messages, and Ed’s stomach is already sinking before Stede says a single thing. Buttons, Frenchie, Jim, and as Stede’s holding it another message comes through from Oluwande.

He looks up and meets Ed’s eye, and knows they won’t be getting back to this today. “The results are coming in.”

“They’ve found something.” Ed already knows the answer. “Something bad.”

Stede nods, grave. “They really have.”

All of a sudden, the potential for their own Tree Change moment is far less hypothetical than before. He locks eyes with Stede and sees the same concern reflected there. They can get through this better than their fictional counterparts, right? Right?

There's only one way to find out. "I, uh. I guess we see what they've found, and then..."

"Then we go about building a metaphorical bonfire," Stede says calmly. "Just in case it's needed."

Chapter Text

Stede is not avoiding reality. He’s simply… working on other realities, typing somewhat furiously on the laptop that’s wedged on his knee, propped against the steering wheel. Processing through fiction, as he often does, it’s just that there’s so much to process, he hardly knows where to start.

“It’s everything we feared.” Rupert looks up at Tāne, the cold reality snaking through him. “What ought we to do?”

Tāne stares back at him, jaw set with the same determined strength he always displays, to which Rupert can only aspire. “We break it, of course.” His eyes flash. “And then we fix it.”

They’re sitting by the beach again in the parked 4WD, and it’s bucketing rain outside, hence the break in the work and the retreat to the car; there’s nothing Stede can do about that. The water streaks down from the sky, drums and rattles on the roof, pours down over the windshield in rushing rivers and hazes the horizon so much that there’s nothing to be seen beyond the strip of ocean that rolls lacklustre over the sand. There are rocky outcrops hemming the beach in on either side, the sand bisected by a stream trickling down from the wetlands, and Stede is, he’s forced to admit, feeling anxious.

Ed, on the other hand, is sound asleep in the passenger seat. Stede gives himself permission to watch him at rest for a bit, though that in itself feels oddly more intimate than anything else they’ve done. Ed can sleep anywhere, and it’s something that’s always been a wonder to Stede, who quite often can’t nod off even in the perfect conditions in his own bed. Too many thoughts chasing themselves around his brain, and though he knows Ed has the same, Ed seems quite content to let them roam without supervision.

Stede needs to keep tabs on all of them, so that he doesn’t get surprised. Corralling the mental guinea pigs, so to speak. Anxiety, his therapist reminds him, isn’t something you can sweep out of that mental room exactly; perhaps a horde of feral little rodents isn’t the best analogy. It’s more a feature that’s… built into the ceiling like a fan, something that doesn’t have to be relevant when the temperature is cool, but when the weather warms, the blades start to spin.

They are… very much spinning just now.

He sighs and flicks out of Scrivener to open the crew’s reports back up again. There’s nothing definitive just yet, no silver bullet, only a combined result that instantly presents a picture of something that is officially out of kilter. The Geiger counters they’re now bringing everywhere with them remain stable and unconcerning, so it’s not radiation. The air quality results are perfect, so there’s nothing airborne to fear. The water results from the cabin are absolutely fine, though they’ve shifted to bottled to be triply sure.

The results from everywhere else show… issues. Anaerobic environments in the deeper levels of the wetlands. Progressive tree wasting in no particular pattern; he’d feel better if there was one, but the afflicted specimens are scattered through the forest, some losing leaves, some fully entrenched in a dieback phase, with no specific pathogen identified. The salinity is high; there are trace elements out of balance everywhere, in small and subtle ways. The birds are ill, but it’s not viral, it’s not bacterial, and there’s no obvious contaminant involved. They’re recovering in Buttons’ care, at least.

That’s about all they have just now, and he’s fired off emails to others they both trust to ask for more help, different opinions. This is how they work. This is what they do, as a crew. They collect the information across a range of different aspects of the habitat, they all bring their unique expertise, and they piece it together for a whole picture, and they find the problem.

Stede has… no idea where to find the problem yet, which is par for the course; you have to collect all of the detail before it starts to make sense. You just have to have clear weather outside in order to see what the hell you’re trying to do, and it’s been raining for a good couple of hours now, with no sign of it stopping soon. He settles deeper into his seat with a groan, and flicks back across to the writing. May as well use this, even if he’s having to flip it over to the 1700s equivalent.

“I cannot find the central element that might tie all the information together,” Rupert says. “I cannot see the forest for the trees.”

Tāne laughs, but fondly. “It takes much more strolling through the wilderness to make sense of where you are in life.”

If Rupert is not mistaken, the way he lifts his handsome brow feels… suggestive, in a manner that he might not have seen before this adventure. Might not have noticed it at all, and what a fool he had been. They’ve agreed, for the sake of this caper, to act as husbands of a sort. They’ve swirled through ballrooms and dashed through back alleys and raced on horseback toward their objectives, and everyone they’ve met has understood them to be partners in life.

Is that not what they’ve always been, truly? Rupert has been blind to it, yes, he knows now just how ridiculous he has been. But he’s felt Tāne’s body within his own, and joined with him in that way too. He’s looked into Tāne’s eyes as he’s brought the man to a moaning climax. He’s taken Tāne’s cock into his mouth like a holy sacrament.

He never wants to stop. But unless he speaks those desires to Tāne, in all probability, when they finally uncover this nefarious plot and bring the perpetrators to justice, he’s going to lose his best friend and his lover alike.

Ed lets out a light snore, and Stede promptly stops typing.

Resists the sudden, extreme urge to highlight every word he just wrote and hit delete, because god. Ed’s going to read this, isn’t he? He’s going to see himself in there, he’s going to see Stede in there, he’s going to realise how very thinly veiled a message it all is, in fact. They’re doing everything that they’re writing into this story, making their way through the prompts, and more than that, they’re living the premise.

The premise that Ed suggested, Stede has to remind himself. Ed intended their story to appear in these pages. It’s a silent agreement between the two of them, a little meta dance around all the things they’re not saying.

He sighs again, casts one more look at Ed. He’s wearing his favourite black t-shirt again today, the one that rides up a little, and he’s got his hands folded over the soft swell of his belly, eyes shut, face relaxed. His hair is cascading down over his shoulders, and Stede knows what it feels like now, silky soft slipping between his fingers, clenched between them as Ed swallows down his cock. Everything he’s ever written, everything he’s going to write, will forever contain Ed, Stede, this. Their love for each other etched on paper, undeniable and indelible.

Ed loves him back, right? Right? It’s simply a matter of one of them being brave enough to say it first. He’s sure of it, the way Ed looks into his eyes as he enters Stede’s body with his own, fusing them together. Stede’s never felt so loved in his life.

Stede’s really never been loved. Is he… is he conflating good friendship with more? Is he going to ruin this, like he’s ruined everything else? Sooner or later a man has to assume that he’s the problem.

He shoves the laptop under the seat, then slaps about until he finds the lever for the back, determined to drop it to a more comfortable angle and attempt some rest while the rain outside picks up to an even more torrential pitch. But of course when he pulls the sodding thing, it releases entirely and sends the whole back of the seat pitching backwards, taking him with it, with a startled cry.

He finds himself flat on his back, blinking up at the car roof.

A moment later, Ed’s looming over him, blinking sleepily. “What the fuck?”

He smooths a hand through his hair, leaves that arm cast up behind his head, very casual. “Hello.”

“Hey.” Ed’s mouth twitches with a smile. “New research position? Or…”

He waves a hand. “Testing out the aerodynamics. The dynamics. The… no, I just can’t touch anything without breaking it, frankly.”

Ed huffs out a laugh, but that familiar little frown line etches itself between his brows. “Just a chair, mate.”

“Kind of an important one, being the driver’s seat!” It’s not even meant to be a metaphor, and it still has Stede’s pulse tripping a little bit. He breaks things. He’s going to break things. It’s a fact of life, in the end. Even the important things that he can’t navigate the world without

Ed’s moving, crawling to kneel on his own seat, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling as he tries to arrange himself. And then he says, “Fuck it,” and a second later he’s swinging his knee over and climbing onto Stede, straddling his hips.

“Oh,” Stede says, because suddenly he’s staring up at Ed, that halo of silver hair in loose waves around his head, his eyes soft and fond, his shirt dipping low to reveal a glimpse of his chest, and Stede can’t especially breathe. “Hello again.”

“Again, hey.” Ed smoothes his hands up the front of Stede’s shirt, pausing to linger over his pecs. “You know what day it is today, right?”

Stede raises a brow, because he’d only just rechecked the list himself, in fact. And it had brought back that very first day in the supply closet, which he’s quite sure he’ll remember as a turning point in his life. “Titty-fucking,” he says, almost hushed. “Pearl necklace.”

Ed squeezes his pecs. “They go together.”

God, he knows. “I did some Googling.”

“Did you?” Ed looks at him like he loves that Stede’s got no idea what he’s doing, and it’s utterly ruining him to be so accepted by this one perfect person, when it’s very unlikely to translate. “What did you find out, then?”

He shifts his hips a bit, lets Ed feel the growing hardness in his trousers. “Quite a lot, actually. I wanted to be ready for you.”

Ed shuts his eyes for a moment, as long as it takes to draw a breath and let it out. “I appreciate that, mate.” His fingers are already working, flicking through the buttons on Stede’s shirt, pulling the two halves of the fabric open to reveal his bare chest. “Guess we kinda got a head start on this the other day, huh?”

“We did.” Right here in the same place, in the same vehicle, only it’s not just the weather that’s different. Things are… changing between them, and the dimming of the sky outside feels alarmingly like foreshadowing. But they’re here in the car, in their own little shelter from the storm, and he gives himself permission to reach up and settle his hands on Ed’s hips, to rub over the planes with his thumbs. “Practice makes perfect?”

Ed grins. “Fuck yeah it does.”

There’s some more shuffling to be done; in fact they end up in the back seat, Stede with his knees bent to fit, feet propped on the window, Ed with his pants stripped off, Stede with his shirt off. Ed traces a line of gooseflesh down over his arm as he takes his own cock in hand and strokes it a couple of times.

“Titty-fucking,” Stede says. “Unfortunately I’m somewhat lacking in the tits—“

“Don’t,” Ed says, holding up a warning finger. “Don’t insult my favourite tits.”

Stede burst out a laugh. “You nut.”

“Oh, I will. That’s a fucking promise, mate.” He shuffles a little further up, ass pressed to Stede’s stomach, the soft swell of his balls almost tickling Stede’s ribs, and it’s so personal, isn’t it? Feeling each and every part of one another in so many different ways, feeling each and every emotion shift and turn each time he looks up from his panting arousal to see Ed staring down at him with that look on his face.

“Ed, I—“

“What?” Ed pauses, in the middle of squishing his pecs together, fingers tracing through the hair, bumping over his nipples so casually that it might drive him insane.

All the words jam in his throat yet again, and he swallows them down. “Nothing. Carry on.”

“‘Kay.” Ed does. Just goes back to gathering all the meat of Stede’s chest and pressing it together, and Stede will concede, there’s sort of a valley happening there. Ed groans. “Fucking perfect, yeah, that’ll do it.” He lets Stede go for long enough to reach back and snatch up a bottle of lube. Clicks it open, holds it high, and lets a long strand of it plop out onto Stede’s chest with a cold splat that makes him gasp. Ed’s tossed the bottle behind him a second later and massages the lube across the space, warming it.

He’s as focussed as he would be taking a water sample or typing up a report, fussing about until everything looks right. And then he’s straddling Stede’s chest, all the solid weight of him right there, slapping his cock down onto Stede’s sternum with a dazzling grin. “Here we fucking go, you ready?”

He gestures to himself, laid out here contributing absolutely nothing to the proceedings. “Quite.”

Ed squeezes Stede’s pecs around his cock, and gives a couple of thrusts. “Oh, fuck yes. Yeah, that’s it.” He picks up the pace a little, and Stede watches him in fascination. Like this, he’s got the most direct view he’s ever had of the entirety of Ed’s pleasure, and his own cock throbs with it. There’s no cock in his mouth to concentrate on, Ed’s not pressed over him, fucking him, only his face in view. No, like this, Stede can reach up and touch, letting his fingers trail over Ed’s nipples, down each bump of his ribs. Dipping into his navel, tracing the dark trail of his hair down to the base of his cock, watching in absolute fascination as it slips, slick and swollen, between the channel of flesh. It’s not an unpleasant sensation in and of itself, but there are no particular nerve endings being lit by the solid slide, which makes it more of a visual, theoretical feast.

Each thrust tugs Ed’s foreskin back, a glimpse of the deeply flushed head of his cock appearing and disappearing from between Stede’s tits. It’s not a very fulsome channel, to be fair, but it’s clearly enough, because Ed has his head thrown back, gasping with each rock of his hips. Mouth dropped open, just a glimpse of teeth and tongue, and Stede has the sudden urge to lace his fingers in there, to feel him.

“So good,” Ed says, low and rough. “So fucking good, Stede, Christ, that’s—“

His thrusts are getting a tad more erratic, and Stede braces Ed’s hips with his hands. “Go on, Ed.” He’s never been good at dirty talk, not the way Ed is, the words pouring out of him with barely a hint of effort. He can feel himself edging toward doing better; he’s having Rupert say things that he’s never considered speaking himself in each new story he writes, and it’s… well.

The whole process of doing this, of writing fiction about characters he didn’t so much as create himself, has shifted an awful lot within him. Something about the permission it gives him to explore without the fear of rejection, perhaps?

And here he is doing exactly that with his best friend, the person he knows would never judge him for that. No, he’s invited Stede into this. He’s made such beautiful space for Stede to try more, and it’s entirely changed him.

“Tighter,” he hears himself say. “Make it tighter.”

Ed cants his hips forward with a desperate little gasp and does as he’s told, squeezing so firmly that it borders on an ache, but… god, one that’s doing something for Stede, too, making him squirm, chasing any kind of friction. With Ed pressed so high on his chest there’s none to be had, and so he’s caught in this delicious sort of frustration watching his friend get looser and more undone, until Ed goes stiff and shouts, “Fuck.”

He’s coming a moment later, cock still pressed between Stede’s tits, spend hitting him in warm splatters across his neck, his throat, his collarbones.

Ed shifts abruptly, but there’s no space to lie side by side. No, instead he flattens himself out over Stede’s body, knees bent, and ducks in to lick his own come off Stede’s throat.

He can’t help the moan that eases out of him at the feeling of Ed’s tongue against the delicate skin, or the way Ed laces fingers into his hair to tilt for better access. He’s hungry in the way he mouths there, occasional sharp nips of his teeth, grinding against Stede’s cock with his thigh, and it’s all a bit much.

“Ed,” he gasps. “Ed, I’m going to—“

He doesn’t break away from where he’s sucking a bruising bite into Stede’s neck, just flings a hand down with impressive precision, and gets hold of his cock. He’s so turned on that it takes no time at all, just a handful of strokes, before Stede is arching up against him and coming too.

“Fucking draped in pearls,” Ed says, when they’ve both managed to catch their breath again. He’s swirling a finger through Stede’s come, almost meditative about it. “Suits you, mate.”

“Well, thank you. I think.”

Ed looks up just as Stede does, and it brings their mouths into perfect alignment for a searing kiss that lingers on and on. As he pulls away, the rain eases outside, the rumble tapering off into tapping, the light brightening a little more. “Everything okay up here?”

He’s stroking his fingers through the crown of Stede’s hair, and Stede lets himself enjoy the sensation for a moment, firm fingers against his scalp. “Just worried about the results. About the new episodes tomorrow, too.” About all of this, ongoing.

“We’ve seen the synopses, right? Sounds like they’re going to get their shit together at least a little bit.”

“I hope so.”

“And the rest, we’re still working on.” He squeezes Stede tighter. “We’ve got time. We’ll figure this out.”

Not only the environmental questions, but the relationship ones. He’s got to believe Ed, because the alternative, not figuring it out, feels impossible to comprehend. They’ve got time. He has to keep reminding himself that it’s true, and that the rush of these new episodes is an artificial race toward a finish line that has nothing to do with their actual situation.

~

It’s later that night, and Stede’s declared that he needs an early bedtime to be ready for the new episodes in the morning. Taken himself off to sleep like the grandpa Ed keeps teasing him that he’s turning into, which is funny, right, because they’re the same age. It’s not that, it’s just that they’re both night people, which suits Ed fine. Nobody else he’d rather sit up with til the wee hours talking shit about the show until they both realise just how late it is and have to slink off to bed.

But here, the physical and emotional exertion must be getting to Stede, because normally he’s a toss and turn kind of guy, but when Ed peeks in on him ten minutes later, he’s out like a light, already snoring.

Good for him. He’ll be good and rested for the morning. Meanwhile Ed’s as wired as if he’s drunk six coffees, which he definitely hasn’t, and so he’s gotta churn that into something productive, or else his brain’s just going to lead him down four hundred different rabbit holes.

Max has posted a new behind the scenes bit a couple of hours ago that has Ed feeling extra fucking homesick, actually. Alex and Johnny out on location in Aotearoa, all the behind the scenes crew talking about the filming process, all of it filmed before the strikes landed and the studios got stubborn about refusing to deal. Assholes. He and Stede had watched it a cool ten times back to back, and that might have been the catalyst for Stede’s mood change, actually, because he could almost see his brain starting to max out in real time as they scrambled to figure out the details.

And there are… fuck, there are a lot in that clip. Ed’s gone back and forth over it, scrubbed to different points, slowed it down, flipped a couple of frames that look like they were filmed in mirror angles. He’s got a running tally of ideas in his brain about where they’re going next with this thing, and most of the time he thinks that’s helping the old anxiety stay at a low simmer, but sometimes, yeah, sometimes it gets a bit fucking much for real.

He smacks Twitter closed and pulls up Scrivener instead. He and Stede have a shared project that they both log into separately; as soon as he opens it up it tells him which documents have been changed. Stede’s been pecking away in the outlines, the character details, the timeline for the story, because that’s the shit he needs to have pinned down to help him stay on track.

He’s also written a chunk, and Ed settles in to read it with close to the same amount of anticipation he feels for the new episodes, which is to say, fucking vibrating over it. Ed’s been writing all his life, and he’s comfortable experimenting back and forth across whatever ideas hit him in the moment. Meanwhile Stede writes with the formal style of a guy who’d read nothing but non-fiction and lit fic before he came to this, but for someone who’s never written much before, he’s been good at adapting, too. He’s hit his full flight with this story, since they’re setting it in the Golden Age of Piracy, and he’s fucking nailing it.

Ed snorts a little laugh to find that Stede’s figured out a good overarching plot arc for this story, by building it around the 18th century equivalent of an environmental disaster—a destroyed painting of a beautiful landscape, nice metaphor, that, and a forgery, and a whole shit-ton of capers that basically serve as a vehicle to let Tāne and Rupert fuck in every possible place they can.

He knows that Stede likes to get introspective, but it’s not until he hits a particular line that his brain suddenly sparks up and re-contextualises everything else he’s just read.

But unless Rupert speaks those desires to Tāne, in all probability, when they finally uncover this nefarious plot and bring the perpetrators to justice, he’s going to lose his best friend and his lover alike.

Oh. Fuck. Ed takes a long breath. Fuck, none of this is about their characters at all, is it? He spins back to the start, because yeah, it’d been his idea to suggest a story that mirrors what they’re doing here, a sneaky little extra way to make Stede think about his feelings. But he hadn’t seen that kind of uncertainty coming, and it squeezes his lungs enough that he’d almost like to get up and go in there to the other room. Shake Stede awake and tell him hey. Fucking hey, if you don’t know by now, mate, if you don’t understand—

If he doesn’t understand, that’s because Ed hasn’t made it clear enough. He throws a glance at his watch—12:30am, and they have to be up by 7am for the new episodes, so he doesn’t have that much time left. He doesn’t want to have some sudden off the cuff conversation with Stede in the middle of the night, before the new episodes, just…

But he can send Stede the equivalent of a message in a bottle, all right. One he knows Stede will get.

Tāne is a man of action, or so Rupert’s always telling him. They’ve made it to the other end of the hallway before the guards round the corner, and their shouted confusion only lasts a second before the voices clatter off into the distance, moving away from them.

Rupert lets out a sigh of relief, and Tāne, fuck. Tāne spins him around and pushes him back against the wall. “I almost lost you there.”

Rupert scoffs, blue eyes bright in the candlelight, devastatingly handsome in his [fancy suit, whatever fucking kind]. “Well, I very much think that’s in the eye of the beholder—“

Tāne shuts him up with a kiss, hard and full of teeth, grinding a thigh in between his legs to fucking show him. When he breaks away, Rupert is frowning. “You didn’t really think—“

“I love you,” Tāne says. “I fucking love you, mate.”

“And, no,” Ed says clicking and dragging to highlight the last sentence, deleting it. He leans back in his seat and groans as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Fuck.”

He can’t do it like this. He owes Stede a face to face conversation. He owes him a bit of the fucking bravery Stede’s shown this past month, and he owes it bloody soon.

~

The night’s over way too fast. Ed jerks awake to the morning light, the obnoxious jangle of a phone alarm, and Stede hovering over him, a soft smile on his face. “It’s time again.”

Ed groans. “Can’t fucking believe it’s been a week. Cannot fucking believe it, mate.”

“Well, it has.” Stede crawls out of the bed. “You stay there, it’s my turn to get the tea today.”

Ed watches him bound off to the kitchen and shakes his head fondly before he scrapes himself up to take a piss. Comes back and snatches the laptop on the way past the desk, fully charged overnight, and wedges himself back into the warmth captured under the blankets as he gets them all set up.

There are two episodes today instead of three, and the tone’s going to be completely different, back to comedy, leaving most of the darkness behind. They’ve got the vibe of that from the descriptions, from a couple more articles that reveal a little more than they probably should, or maybe they just don’t give a fuck about the committed viewer out here and they’re just in it to catch the attention of the casuals.

Stede’s still bouncing as he comes back in, somehow not spilling a drop from either mug, and Ed accepts his gratefully. There’s a bunch of shuffling, Stede fluffing up pillows and arranging himself just right, and when the laptop’s open and there’s one minute left, he finally looks up and catches sight of Ed’s face. “What?”

He blinks. “Nothing. Nothing, just excited.”

He’s been staring at Stede thinking, we already fucking live together like we’ve been married for a decade. They already love each other, and the only thing holding them back is just fucking saying it. He can only hope like hell that these episodes are going to help.

They’re two minutes in before he’s doubting it. “Fuck,” he murmurs as—hot on the heels of Tāne waking up to the sound of Rupert’s voice—Tāne’s crew kicks him off the boat, sends him onto the island to disappear into the jungle. “So much for Rupert saying he’d never abandon him again.”

Stede presses his nose to Ed’s bare shoulder. “I think Rupert should have refused to make him leave.”

“I guess they would have kicked him off, too.”

Stede looks personally offended. “Really? The boss, the person who’s been helping them all these months?”

Ed gives him a bit of side-eye. “The one whose shit decisions got them all into this mess in the first place, yeah, that guy.”

Stede huffs. “Rude.”

The separation doesn’t last long, though. First Tāne steals a Vespa and drives it off into the middle of nowhere, only to have the engine blow. Then he has a whole poison-addled conversation with a lemur that promptly gets eaten by a snake. Next minute a mechanic turns up on a bicycle, some kind of island roadside assistance, and it turns out to be an old friend of his; one half of a pair of batshit insane lesbians.

“Who are also hot,” Ed throws in.

“If you say so,” Stede tosses back, and it makes Ed laugh, because fuck, who looks at Salma Hayek—tits out in her mechanic overalls—and can’t see the appeal? Stede fucking Bonnet, that’s who, the guy who didn’t know he was gay until last year.

Anyway, Rupert and his offsider Ana turn up at the mechanics’ place next, obviously, wandering through the jungle looking for parts for one of Ana’s more insane inventions. “Throwing them into the mix was exactly the right choice,” Ed murmurs, not only because Ana’s one of his favourites. “Shifts the comic tone right away.”

Not that they need to help much, because it’s chaos immediately. The mechanics are smacking each other with wrenches—that’s a love bite, Lucy Lawless yells at one point as the bruises bloom—or sneaking deadly snakes into the napkin arrangement. It all blows up—jealous Tāne! Stede whispers gleefully, because it’s one of his favourite tropes—and then they have to talk. Actually fucking talk. And Ed’s holding his goddamn breath for this, and he doesn’t let it out for a whole minute.

Rupert: I had to say those things to make my father believe I was on his side.

Tāne: Yeah, well, it was pretty fucking convincing. You had me convinced.

Rupert: I was infiltrating Stafford Oil and Gas! I was finding my way back to you, Tāne, there’s nowhere on earth I’d rather be—

Tāne: What about with your wife, huh? Sounded pretty fucking cosy over there.

Rupert: It was terrible.

[Silence]

Rupert: Every minute without you was terrible.

Tāne: Stop.

Rupert: I won’t stop until I’ve said it all. You’re the oxygen in my atmosphere. You’re the sunlight to my chlorophyll. You’re the wave motion in my ocean—

Tāne: You did not just fucking rhyme that.

Rupert: You smiled. A little bit.

Tāne: [Pause] A little bit.

Rupert: My ecosystem isn’t complete without you in it, Tāne. I missed you every day.

And that kind of… does it? The disaster lesbians come back with some mean jabs, make the two of them defend each other, ask some questions about their sex life that have Stede whistling with bitchy amusement.

And then they’re out, and Ana’s slotting the last piece into their booster rocket, and boom, just like that, it’s fired them over the trees in the direction of the water.

“Fuck,” Ed says. “Christ, they’re, uh. They’re going to be fine, right?”

Stede’s mashed along his side, laughing so hard that there are tears glistening on his lashes. “I’m sure they’ll land on their feet.”

“Fuckin’ hope not.”

It’s good to laugh again after last week. It’s good to see them fixing Keith up, too, after the guy flew too close to the sun last week, pushed Tāne too hard and got himself blasted for his trouble. They’ve found him an old-school hook to replace the lost arm, showing him that he’s part of the crew, not just that guy who always barked around the edges and kept them in line. Ed’s not going to think about Izzy, he’s not. Not yet. But by the end of that episode, Tāne’s back on the ship and the crew’s through some of their trauma, and it feels different.

Ed sags into his pillows as the credits play, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You good?” Stede asks. “Thoughts?”

“You know they literally shot for the canopy? Finally broke through it?” Ed lets his head roll to the side, smiles at Stede. “Fuckin’ finally proved they could do it.”

“Huh.” Stede’s grin is brilliant. “God, you’re right they did.”

Because that’s been a theme from the start, a set of little catch-cries they’ve always had, shoot for the canopy, to the canopy and beyond. But over the last two seasons it’s become more of a limitation than a lofty goal, something nobody’s managed, metaphorically speaking. With one symbolic bit of slapstick comedy, they just smashed a barrier, and it can’t be a coincidence that it happened right as they found their way back to each other.

Together, the sky’s the limit.

The second episode of the week is more like the old-school comedy ones, a little bit aimless, but fun. The crew get paired up and sent out on missions to sabotage different Stafford suppliers, and it’s all fun and games for most of the episode. Tāne and Rupert, meanwhile, are scuba diving in pursuit of new information about one of Stafford’s undersea operations.

It’s unsettling, actually, because there’s still a lingering little doubt there about whether this is safe for Rupert, trusting Tāne like that when only a few days earlier he was trying to kill half the crew. But they’re a team, they always have been, and it’s just the same as before when they’re together.

And then, fucking hell, there’s the tiger shark jump-scare.

It comes so completely out of nowhere, just as they’re hovering in the water, smiling at one another, that Stede fully shrieks and almost hurls his (thankfully empty now) mug across the room.

The shark dodges out of the gloom and goes to bite Rupert’s leg, but Tāne’s right there, punching it in the fucking snout.

“Holy shit,” Ed whoops. “New favourite moment.”

Stede’s pressed back into his pillows, hand to his chest. “Would you punch a shark for me?”

What a question, Jesus Christ. “Fuck no, wouldn’t go diving, probably.”

He can’t miss the way Stede’s looking at him, somewhere between hopeful and worried about it, like this is something that’s suddenly going to happen in the middle of nowhere, with no scuba gear and no scuba certification. “But if you did go diving. With me. And there was a shark.”

He fixes his stare on Stede’s face and says, “Mate. I’d punch a fucking school of sharks for you.”

“Well, that’s—“

He’s leaning in, eyes shining, looking a lot as if he wants to kiss Ed about that, which yeah, but also—Ed presses a fingertip to his lips. “Hold that thought. Important bits coming up.”

Aisha and Nālani are on screen now, the secondary couple of the show. There’s been talk for months about the possibility of a polycule developing with the new introductions, ship’s captain Tui on Aisha’s side, new manager June on Nālani’s. But it’s not really building at the moment, and either they’ve decided to leave that aside, or they’re just not telegraphing it well. June’s already fucked off, temporarily anyway; Tui’s in every scene with Aisha, except for this one.

No, Aisha, who held the line on Tāne’s ship, and Nālani, who dealt with all of Rupert’s emotional breakdowns for months, are also two of the most senior eco-pirates they’ve got. And they’ve been sent to the big one, bickering the whole way there, and right outside the gate after Aisha has snapped that she doesn’t know if Nālani really knows what she wants anymore, Nālani’s gone down on one knee and told her she knows exactly what she wants, and always has.

Stede sucks in the longest breath of all time. “Oh my god. Oh. Fuck. Oh, she proposed!”

“Good for them,” Ed says, real emotional about it. “Fucking love that.”

It’s a yes, of course it is, but they barely have time to catch their breath before it’s cut back to Rupert and Tāne, flat out on the bottom of the fishing boat after their narrow escape, and then it starts to rain. Ed already knows what’s going to happen here, because he’s heard it from a well-connected friend, but he hasn’t told Stede. Still, it’s something else seeing it like this, as the rain buckets down over them—just the way they got soaked right before their first kiss in season one—and the two men start to laugh properly for the first time this season, and Stede shoots his hand out and grabs Ed’s so hard that it hurts.

Tāne and Rupert turn to look at each other, and the spark’s still there. Never left. The laughter fades away. Tāne swallows and says, “Sometimes I think I could find every bit of wisdom I need right here in your face.”

The line. The line that Rupert said the first time they kissed, the one Ed had dropped when he first talked to Stede, and Stede lets out a noise like a screeching teakettle as Tāne and Rupert roll together and fucking kiss, they kiss, they kiss again at fucking last.

Ed knew, he did, but fucked if he doesn’t burst into tears suddenly anyway, and then it pours out of him, taking him by surprise, even as Tāne pulls back and asks to take it slow, even as Rupert slides his hand into Tāne’s and asks if this is too much (it’s not, it’s fucking perfect, just the way Stede’s hand still clenched in his is everything he’s ever needed right now, too).

And then the other boat is pulling up beside their little dinghy, fixed at last, but the mood isn’t bright. Aisha and Nālani have been captured by the opposition, and Rupert uses their joined hands to pull Tāne to stand, and they prepare to go save their friends as a crew.

Stede’s arm is around him as the end credits start to play, and Ed takes a few sniffing sobs and tries to get his shit together. “What the fuck. Holy fuck.”

Stede squeezes him tighter. “They did it. We did it. We got there.”

“Not all the way, man, but yeah, it’s… it’s better.” It feels like a concrete weight lifting off his shoulders somehow, as if what just happened on that screen made any kind of difference to his actual life. “How the fuck did they do that, turn the mood around so fast?”

Stede hums. “Not that I don’t think it was sincere, but… they’ve got a lot more work to do, you know? Feels like that’s going to come back fairly soon.”

“Slow,” Ed says, and he finally gets a chance to lean back and look at Stede’s face. “They’re taking it slow.”

He looks… composed about it. Normal, almost. Stede’s brow does a minuscule lift. “And we’re betting on slow lasting how long precisely?”

They both dissolve into giggles, and that’s it. They’ve slipped right into mile a minute talking about everything that happened there, throwing down parallels and critiques and favourite moments, checking in with the crew. It’s almost enough to stop Ed from spiralling, because fuck. They really did just start out the way he’d predicted, deciding to be friends again. But they accelerated so fast past it that it feels like he and Stede aren’t on the same page as the show anymore.

They’re canon divergent, they always were, writing an alternate universe fic, but they’re… yeah. They’re on a new page, and where Stede likes to write outlines, Ed needs to think it through, how to parse this.

They get up, they eat breakfast, they keep chatting.

They go out, they work, they concentrate on different areas today, Stede going deeper into the trees, Ed following a small tributary off the main stream, sampling up and down. He keeps his earbuds in, pulses music all day, the writing playlist that keeps him in Tāne’s head, now with added needle drops from Season 3.

In the evening they sit side by side on the same couch, set a timer, and go off on writing a post-episode fic each, racing each other in a sprint with a few buddies on the other end of their Discord crew. Ed’s taking Tāne’s point of view, Stede’s taking Rupert’s, and they’re both punching out too slow stories that are anything but.

Stede’s is sweet, because of course it is. Has them rescuing the others and slow dancing in the cabin before they give in.

Ed’s is filthy, the pair of them fucking against the wall of the Stafford compound mid-rescue, Rupert burying his cock deep in Tāne, spit as lube, the whole desperate nine yards. They do a quick read of each other’s work and hit post thirty seconds apart.

It’s fucking great. Ed loves this. And it takes him the whole evening and a final full stop on the story for his brain to finally, finally catch the fuck up, just as Stede turns to him and clears his throat and says, “About today’s prompts.”

Ed fixes him with a wide-eyed look. “Oh shit, yeah. I had… plans.”

“Did you?” His smile is small. “Because today was sounding, and—“

“Both on the same page with that, no fucking chance I’m sticking anything up there.”

“No, indeed, me either. Sounds like a fast track to the emergency room, except that we’re a very long way from that. So that leaves…”

“Coming untouched.” Ed’s already smiling, because he can see Stede’s shiver from here. “You up for that?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

Ed scoots closer, slides a hand over his knee. “Just means not touching your cock, but I can touch everything else. I’ve got some tricks we can use.”

“Yes,” Stede says, an edge of desperation in there that he’d been hiding pretty well before. “Yes, please, let’s do that.”

“And, uh. The verbal cue?”

Stede wrinkles his nose. “The slut one?”

“The slut one.” Ed’s not into the degradation bit overall, but he’s never minded hearing it. He’s never used it much. “I can think of something different. Got a good imagination.”

“You do.” Stede bites his lip. “Would it be weird if I said maybe… try it in the moment? And I’ll nuclear it immediately if I don’t like it.” He gives a little huff of a laugh. “Nobody’s ever called me a slut before.”

Ed’s grin makes his cheeks hurt. “Nobody’s ever known you like I have.”

It was meant to hit as a little cute, maybe a little hot, but Stede’s face falls a little instead. “I guess not.”

Before Ed can say anything else, Stede’s up and walking to the bedroom door, and all of today’s emotions flip over in Ed’s stomach, sudden uncertainty. But at the last moment, Stede pauses in the door and looks back over his shoulder. “Coming?”

He couldn’t not follow if he tried. He’s up right away. By the time he gets into the room, Stede’s already thrown off his shirt, and he’s working a little frantically on the trousers, standing beside the bed with his back hunched. Ed comes up behind him and smooths his hands over Stede’s shoulders, and he goes rigid for a moment, and then still. Ed kisses the bare, freckled skin of his shoulder, strokes down his arms. “Can’t wait to take you apart.”

“Please,” Stede says, almost a whimper. “God, I need you so much.”

There’s a desperate urgency that makes Ed spin him around. “You okay?”

Stede nods, face contradicting that pretty fucking thoroughly. “I will be. I will.” He tries for a smile. “Do your worst.”

“Planning on doing my best.” Ed lifts his hands to cup Stede’s cheeks. “Mate. I know you pretty well by now. What’s up?”

Stede looks almost… afraid, and that situation’s not improved when he sucks in his next breath as a sob. “Ed—“

This feels bad, and Ed doesn’t like it. “Whoa, whoa, let’s just—should we take this slow?”

The echo of this morning’s line from Tāne seems to snap something in Stede, because the next moment he’s got his hands fisted in Ed’s shirt, and he’s shoving him backwards, fully shoving him, all the way across the room until Ed’s back meets the wall, and all of his breath gets punched out of him in one startled hit. He blinks at Stede, who’s still staring at him like he’s asking a question, and Ed’s got no fucking clue what it is, but he nods, because with Stede, the answer is always yes. Always.

And Stede folds in against him and kisses him like they haven’t touched in months, and Ed slings an arm around his neck for balance, another around his waist, and tugs him as close as he can, kissing him back with equal desperation.

“Ed.” Stede’s still got his hands fisted in the front of Ed’s shirt when he breaks away, still has his nose pressed to Ed’s. “I have to tell you something.”

Ed swallows hard. “Not gonna lie, you’re freaking me out a little, mate.”

Stede scrunches his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “No. No, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to mess this all up, I don’t—“

“Hey.” He tilts Stede’s chin back up, meets his eye, thinks he can see the answer in there already. “You can tell me anything.”

Stede takes a deep breath, a long one. Seems to realise how tightly he’s got hold of Ed’s shirt, because he releases it, flattens his hands over Ed’s chest instead, palm pressed over his rapidly beating heart. When he looks up, there’s a decisive kind of clarity on his face. “Ed, I’m in love with you.”

It’s an electric shock shooting through him, and he feels his jaw drop.

Stede goes into rambling mode—Reason #16 on Ed’s list, actually. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I just… I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t sit there and watch that, watch Rupert trying to say it, Tāne not ready to hear it, and I know, I know it’s going to swing back and bite them, but then they kissed, and they love each other, Ed, and all of their problems could have been avoided if only they’d talked, and I’m afraid… I’m afraid that we don’t say what we mean, and I love you. I’ve loved you for months. Maybe since the first time I saw your face. And I’m sorry, and if that makes this impossible to continue, I can leave—“

Ed shuts him up the best way he knows how, by hauling him back in for another kiss. This one’s deeper, slower, and Stede lets out a surprised sound in his mouth, and then he’s sagging in against Ed again, shoving him up against the wall.

“Stede,” he pants. “Jesus fucking Christ, Stede, I love you, you nut. Fucking loved you for the same amount of time, couldn’t figure out how to say it, didn’t want to freak you out—“

“You could never freak me out,” Stede sobs. “We’re idiots, Ed. We’re idiots!”

“Yeah, we’re fucking idiots.” He drops his forehead against Stede’s, and they suck in a breath together. His fingers are tangled up in Stede’s hair, and Stede’s bare torso is hot through the thin material of Ed’s t-shirt, fingers sliding under the hem at the back. “Thought I’d find a cooler way to say this, and then you just… spat it right out.”

Stede tips his head back and laughs. “The way it should have been all along.”

“Can’t regret it.” He kisses Stede again, firm and decisive. “Not one single fucking thing, mate.”

“Me either,” he says. “No, not a thing, only we could have… we could have been doing this all along.”

“Making up for lost time now we’re—“ He cuts himself off, startled by the realisation. “Wait, what does that mean? Are we dating now? Are we boyfriends?”

“Boyfriends!” Stede presses in against him, limpet-style, wrapping his arms around Ed’s torso, pressing his nose against his neck. They’re shoved up against a random wall in this random bedroom, and Stede’s saying, “Oh my god. I hadn’t thought about it, I just… I just needed you to know. I care about you, more than anything. Not only as friends.”

Ed feels like laughing and screaming at the same time. “Oh, we’re not friends now?”

“You’re my best friend, Ed. You always will be.” He stands straight again, looking decided. “And also my boyfriend. For a start, we’ll figure out the rest later.”

Ed laughs so hard that he smacks his head against the wall, and comes up rubbing it. “This is what it’s going to be like, is it? Not proposing at 10pm in the middle of nowhere.”

Stede’s face goes on a whole journey before it settles into amused. “Would you say no?”

The realisation knocks what little air Ed has left out of his chest, and he slumps harder against the wall. Might live there now. “Probably not. Could say yes. If you were asking.”

Stede lets out a startled laugh. “Well, I’m not. Yet.”

“Gotta trial the merchandise first, I get it, I get it.” He gives Stede a sharp-edged grin. “Might need to do a few more test drives.”

“I’d like to think I’ve given the merchandise some very full throttle test drives this past week.”

“Yeah? And am I passing the test?”

“With flying colours. I’d like to keep you.”

“I’d like to be kept.” This has been such a wild fucking turn of events, Ed still thinking he was like, two weeks away from hitting this point, that he’s almost reeling with it, as if he was walking down a set of stairs and missed the last six. “What the fuck, hey?”

Stede looks just as shocked. “Indeed.”

They fall into each other laughing, and Ed takes the chance to just… hug him. That’s it, just wrapping him up as tight as he can, squeezing him. “Pretty fucking brave of you.” He knows Stede’s history. Should’ve fucking thought about that sooner, saved him the grief he saw on Stede’s face earlier. Been brave enough himself, but he wasn’t. “Thanks for that, for both of us.”

Stede presses a kiss to his collarbone. “To our mutual benefit.”

They’ve got a shit-ton of figuring things out to do, but that can be tomorrow Ed and Stede’s problem. He shoves Stede back at arm’s length and says, “Think your little romance moment interrupted my plans to fuck you senseless.”

Stede squeezes his eyes shut and groans. “I need that, very badly.”

It’s Ed’s turn to put his hands on Stede’s shoulders and steer him backwards until he hits the bed and folds down onto it. “There’s a good slut?”

He pauses, but Stede only raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”

He tilts his chin. “Take those trousers off, spread yourself out while I find what I’m looking for.”

Stede scrambles to obey as Ed slings open the mirrored cupboard, the last sight in the reflection his boyfriend, what the fuck, bucking on the bed trying to tear off his pants as fast as possible. He digs through the suitcase of gear for a minute until he finds what he’s looking for and comes up with a triumphant ha.

Turns around, and promptly loses all his breath again. Stede’s already sprawled out in the middle of the bed, totally naked, one arm thrown up behind his head, the other hand busy teasing his cock.

“Hey, hey, no touching.” It comes out at a deeper growl than Ed intended. “Whole point of this is no touching.”

Stede’s face has so many moods he loves, but this one, a bit petulant, a bit pissy, is up there with his favourites. Reason 18, can see every single fucking thought on his face. “For the main event, maybe, but there’s nothing wrong with a touch of preparation—“

“No touching.” He slides the mirrored door closed behind him and turns back, the toy in his hand. “You touch your cock, you won’t get to come at all tonight, understand?”

Those eyes fly wide, and Stede nods. Ed crawls onto the bed between his knees, still wearing everything, and there’s something about that—Stede fully naked and vulnerable, Ed in charge, that sends a true bolt of heat through him.

He shoves Stede’s knees apart, good and wide, and says, “Pass me the lube?”

He doesn’t even know what to do with the breadth of feeling that the last ten minutes has exploded inside him, but fucking Stede about it feels like a fair idea. This is even better, a chance to take him to pieces good and slow, until he’s losing his mind with it just as much as Ed’s losing his mind over the sudden world-tilting change in their lives.

Ed concentrates on everything but his cock. Spends a good amount of time sliding slicked-up fingers into him, grazing his prostate over and over. Presses the plug slowly inside him, until he’s whining and begging, and then switches it on, ramps the vibrations up a couple of notches, picks an oscillating wave pattern.

Stands up and strips off his own clothes, good and slow, lingering like a slut himself as he bends down with his bare ass in the air, moaning a little as he lets down his hair again and shakes it out over his shoulders, the way he knows Stede likes it.

Spends a little more time concentrating on Stede’s nipples after that, sucking each one for plenty of time, biting a little, reading the gasps that spill out of Stede, the changing pressure of his grip in Ed’s hair. He doesn’t mind a little pain mixed with his pleasure, Ed’s noticed that maybe before Stede’s even seen it himself.

Next stop is his mouth, and he climbs up so that he can straddle Stede’s face, just like they did in the car the other day. “Open up, there’s a good slut. Take it all.”

Stede’s eyes are like saucers, and there’s nothing nuclear about it, so yeah, okay, they’re going to mark that one on the list, maybe. He takes Ed’s cock deep into his throat and moans at the press of it, and it takes everything Ed’s got to maintain his own self control and not spill right away. He can feel Stede writhing under him, the vibrations of his voice as he tries to beg around the cock in his throat, and he replies by clicking the remote one more time and upping the vibration level again, chuckling as Stede’s body goes taut.

He eases out of Stede’s mouth, watches his spit string from the tip of Ed’s cock, his lips red with the friction, eyes dark. “Such a good slut for me.”

Stede closes his eyes in a blissful laugh, and when he speaks his voice is rough. “I like it. A little bit. But I think there’s a maximum usage of that one.”

It’s such a Stede thing to say that Ed can’t help laughing. He shuffles back down far enough to kiss Stede, but not so far that Stede can get any purchase in his attempt to grind up against Ed’s ass. “Feeling it, huh?”

“I’m so close to the edge. Feels like I’ve been there for an hour.” He sounds wrecked and he looks pitiful. “I need to come, Ed.”

His dick does look very much in need of that, now that Ed shuffles far enough down to take a closer look. He’s harder than Ed’s ever seen him, strings of glistening liquid messing up his belly hair. “Aw, bro, this looks intense.”

“It is!” Stede props himself on his elbows, hair a mess as he stares down at Ed. “Please. Please touch me, please.”

“All right, all right.” He clicks up the vibrating plug a couple of notches again, hits maximum, and Stede almost screams as he arches off the bed.

“You think you can come from that?”

“No!” Stede yells. “God, I’m so close, but it’s—it’s not enough, I need—“

Ed clicks it off, and he collapses back onto the bed in a boneless heap. He makes swift work of tugging the plug out and tossing it aside, and then he lines himself up instead, slicks on a little extra lube, and pauses. “This good?”

Stede just moans. “Please.”

Maybe he’s imagining it, but Stede feels so much hotter when Ed presses into him. He can feel the tremble in his thighs as the sound spills out of him in a long, low groan, and his cock slaps obscenely against his belly as Ed bottoms out. “Fuck,” he murmurs. “Fuck, Stede, you feel so good.”

He doesn’t torture him for much longer. Starts moving pretty quickly, first a slow thrust, and then he hitches Stede’s hips up a little and aims for a different angle, one he’s learned pretty well this past week. Stede almost howls when he hits it, bowed and shaking as Ed fucks into him.

“That’s it, let go.” He thrusts a little faster, aims for deeper. “You know how good you look like this? You’re my fucking dream, man. Imagined you like this so many times, wanted to fuck you over your desk in that office, go down on my knees for you in the kitchen and suck your dick so that every fucking person knew you were mine.” He hikes Stede’s thighs higher again, gripping tight, driving in. “You’re mine, you know that? You’re fucking mine.”

Stede’s entire body goes rigid, toes to neck, and he screams. Clenches so tightly around Ed’s cock that Ed has to still his thrusts for as long as it takes for Stede to come in spurting jets across his own stomach and chest, not a finger, not a breath on his cock. When it’s settled, Ed starts up again, lowering him gently, asking as he goes.

“Still okay?”

Stede gives him a nod, and when Ed pauses he says, “Yes, yes, please, god, I want to feel you come inside me. I want you to—to fill me up, Ed, please.”

“Fuck.” That’s enough to shove him right to the edge, and it’s only three more thrusts before he’s coming, pulsing deep into Stede, letting all his love pour out.

Love. Oh, fuck, they’ve made it.

When the last of the tremors has passed, he pulls out and eases himself down behind Stede, wrapping him up in the tightest hug he can manage. They’re both sweaty and sticky and gross, but fuck, he’s euphoric.

“I love you,” he murmurs in Stede’s ear. “You know that? I fucking love you.”

Stede twists in his arms, presses a kiss to his mouth. “I love you. That was incredible.”

“Sure fucking was.” He sighs with happiness. “So fucking glad we decided to do this.”

Stede twists a runaway strand of hair away from Ed’s forehead and tucks it behind his ear. “So what are we if we’re not friends with benefits? Because boyfriends sort of have benefits built in, right?”

“When they feel like it. Not an automatic right, is it?” There’s something about the way he wants to knock that idea back, when the only thing he actually wants in life is to fuck Stede all the time. Boundaries, his therapist would tell him. They’re good to have!

“Of course, no. Just…” Stede’s fingers are roaming, like he’s got a whole new motivation to touch. He traces the wingspan of Ed’s kāhu tattoo. “It’s sort of an inherent difference in the way things are, I would think. For us.”

“Yeah, you’ve got that right.” Ed catches hold of his hand, lifts it, presses a kiss to each fingertip. “Going to romance the shit out of you, actually.”

Has anyone ever romanced Stede before, the way he deserves? Ed’s never heard of anyone, and he reckons that’s why Stede’s gaze goes equal parts soft and dark. “I’m looking forward to it. Looking forward to paying it back.”

“Lovers,” Ed says, still trying to get his reeling head around it. “We actually made it to the lovers half of the friends to lovers.”

“So we did.” Stede smiles. “Are we still going to make Tāne and Rupert take the same journey in our story?”

“Oh, fuck yes, those guys have to earn it, same way we did.”

Stede lets out a giddy laugh. “Excellent. And I suppose in the show—“

“Yeah, they’ve made it over the line.” There’s a niggling little fear that they’ve both had at different times today. “For now.”

Stede’s face goes serious. “What if it does go backwards? What if something goes wrong?”

“They figured it out once. They can do that again.”

“In three episodes?”

“Sure as fuck hope so. Don’t think they would’ve talked about it as a romance if they didn’t have a happy ending planned.”

“No, you’re right. You’re right.”

Nobody knows what the finale holds yet; not even the early screeners and reviewers have seen it yet, so Ed’s got no way to be sure. But he trusts the creators, he really does. “Hey.” He squeezes Stede’s hand. “Even if it goes backwards for them next week, we’re not them. We’re us. We’re going to be fine, as long as we talk.”

Stede, who was brave enough to open his mouth and fucking do that tonight, smiles. “I think we can manage. Boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend.” He seals it with a long, slow kiss. “I’m going to go wipe down and then I’m going to come sleep in your arms.”

Stede starts laughing. “This really was a ridiculous arrangement for friends, wasn’t it?”

It was, he’s not wrong. They’ve been idiots for sure, but it doesn’t matter. “It felt good. It felt right. Even if we hadn’t made it to the truth, that would’ve been fucking worth it.”

“But we did, and now we’ve got what, twenty more days?”

And then the rest of our lives, Ed almost says, but he bites that one back. “Yeah, mate, for starters.”

Stede’s smile could light the whole sky. “I’m so glad.”

~

In the morning, Stede wakes the way he has for the previous eleven days, which is to say with Ed wrapped around him like a warm, content octopus, but everything feels… different somehow.

It takes him a moment to realise why, and when he does, it socks him right in the chest.

Oh, god. Oh, he did that. He said it, out loud. And Ed—Ed said it back. Ed said it back.

Ed loves him. He rolls the words around in his brain, still hardly able to comprehend them. Ed loves him, confirmed. They’re boyfriends. All the way from friends to lovers. And Ed had seemed so relieved and so overjoyed to hear it, to be able to say it, god, Stede’s really just suddenly getting everything he ever wanted in his life, isn’t he?

It doesn’t usually go like that for Stede, so it can’t exactly be helped that the slow worm of anxiety begins to creep in immediately, twisting through all the joy like a painful needle. There’s got to be another shoe that’s yet to drop. There always is. He feels it about Tree Change, too, no matter how happy Rupert and Tāne actually seemed yesterday. They know these characters, they’ve been digging into their inner worlds for the last couple of years, and of course the actual writers have managed to surprise them—that’s why they’re the best. But in hindsight, nothing has been without an oh moment of realisation after the fact:

This was always going to go like this.

He shifts a bit, rolls toward Ed, and Ed just murmurs in his sleep and readjusts to squeeze Stede even tighter. He’s so lovely like this in the morning light, long lashes dusting his cheeks, hair tangled across his forehead, mouth dropped open slightly.

The thing is, they both gravitated toward this show because they have points in common with the characters. But they are not the same. They don’t have the same traumas. Nobody’s kidnapped Stede! He’s never left Ed at the docks! As if he would! His father’s not the secret mastermind behind an environmental disaster in the making; he’s just a boring corporate finance overlord with fingers in far too many pies to care about anything other than money. Ed’s mentor isn’t some secret part of a whole conspiracy; Hornigold’s been retired for many years, and good riddance to him, because he was horrible to Ed in the end.

No, he has to do a better job of separating his anxiety about the show from his anxiety about life in general, because Ed deserves the amount of confidence that Stede truly does feel.

He’d love to spend the rest of the day snuggled up like this, but the need to go relieve himself is growing, and then there’s work to do. Writing to channel that anxiety, people to chat to, more conversations to be had, and that’s before they get to the actual work they sorely need to finish. All of a sudden, a thousand different things are calling him at once.

He needs to move, actually. He manages to disentangle himself from Ed without waking him, and goes to the bathroom. Gets dressed in his running gear and heads out into a morning that’s misty, but not raining, the weather a vast improvement from yesterday. He strikes out along the gravel track that leads through the meadow, setting a solid pace, the world opening up ten feet before him through the delicate veils of grey fog.

There’s nothing like running for clearing his mind, and he lets the thoughts roll over him as he huffs each breath.

He’s not sure he’s ever experienced anything like that moment yesterday of seeing Tāne and Rupert finally kiss again. He’s long since accepted that this show means more to him than any form of media ever has before, and he’s comfortable with the hyperfixation of it all. He has a solid understanding of why he’s gone so all in on this; an escape after years of grinding stress, the isolation and fear of the pandemic that’s still rolling along out there, a midlife moment of questioning his identity and discovering new facets of himself that he’d perhaps always suppressed.

He’d always known he was different, but the show has helped him understand how, and therefore it’s become so much more than a show to him. That simple: it’s a touchpoint in his life, in itself just a few hours of television, but his attachment to it has been transformative in so many ways.

Just now, the one that bubbles to the surface is his writing, as it happens.

Stede had started writing from a very young age, always interested in reading and books, and no wonder, when both parents were so absent, physically and emotionally. Bullied throughout school? He’d survived that by escaping into his own mental worlds. He’d delighted in telling his own children tall tales about pirates and dragons and cryptids. But as an adult he’d only ever dabbled a bit before this, and suddenly that unlocked door had swung open to offer him a new possibility. Challenging himself to shape characters and narrative, yes, but also writing in a way that was meaningful to so many others, and that was something he’d never expected to find.

He knows now that it’s what he’d like to do longer term. Be a novelist, write things that mean something. Make another kind of difference in the world, on top of the one he believes he’s making by working to protect the environment in this, the day job.

It’s true that he’ll probably never write anything as gorgeous as Ed does on pure instinct and talent, but that’s been an attitude to work on, too. Why does he need to be perfect, when he could simply be improving all the time? There’s inadequacy bubbling up there, imposter syndrome, the feeling of being less liked than his peers because he’s odd, too rigidly attached to certain ideas and approaches, not unique enough… but the more he sits with those, the more he knows they’re about old wounds. Lots of people read his writing, but even if nobody did, it would still be valid and worthy.

His feet strike the track with a meditative thump, the mist clearing slightly as he travels around the lower reaches of the mountain incline, heading for the fence line. He’s used to his mind meandering through a wide range of thoughts before it lands on the one that he’s really chasing, and as usual, it occurs to him quite suddenly.

Yesterday. The moment when Rupert gave his apologies inside that chaotic mechanic shop, expressed his love for Tāne.

The way it cracked something open inside Stede’s chest, long before the inevitable kiss that resulted from it. Watching those characters be vulnerable and brave and open with each other, his head suddenly filled with the clanging bells of realisation.

He’d looked across at Ed, but Ed had been riveted, chewing a thumbnail, absorbing it.

And Stede loved him. Loved him so overwhelmingly much that he’d almost been unable to catch his breath with it. Almost said it right there and then; had to bite his lip to hold it back.

The moment had passed. The kiss had happened, he’d lost his mind about it, and Ed had sobbed. Such an unexpected reaction that Stede had been caught off guard, trying to parse whether Ed was… upset about it? But no, just as overwhelmed with elation, so much so that there was no possible way Stede could add to it, especially not in case Ed rejected him.

Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? He’d felt so sure about where they were, where they were going, but he’d still had that two percent doubt. It had nagged him all day, followed him through the forest. Whispering over his shoulder as they ate dinner, as they wrote together, and then as he read Ed’s spectacular words.

Tāne had held that love inside him for so long that it had begun to turn to stone. But with time, with pressure, stone became diamond; rough and unformed, but ready to be revealed, faceted, just waiting to catch the light and shine when the time was right. All he needed was the cutting edge of Rupert’s admission, of his kiss, and he’d been remade in a moment, all the edges lasered cleanly away.

And there Stede had been tapping out his own work, chasing the same things, and getting… nowhere near it.

It had all coalesced into that moment where he’d turned to Ed and almost said it, again, and hadn’t, and had suddenly realised that perhaps he’d never be brave enough. Maybe they’d never make it over that line, unless Ed said it first, and Ed was being so careful with him, and fuck. Fuck.

He’d felt himself tilting into something very close to a panic attack about it, even as he tried to get ready for the next moment where they were going to fuck each other and pretend this was all there was.

Just like Rupert and Tāne, when Stede wrote them.

Not so much when Ed wrote them, actually saying the things they needed to, and that—

Well, that had been like a sudden tropical downpour from a previously blue sky, something had broken loose inside him, and he’d utterly lost control of it. Slammed Ed up against the wall and told him, just the way Ed’s Tāne had been trying to tell Rupert for all these days, through all these fics, and Stede had seen it so much more clearly there than he had staring it in the beautiful face.

The cabin emerges from the mist as Stede slows his pace, and it feels like home, knowing Ed’s in there waiting for him. It has from the beginning, even before they said a word to each other.

Ed’s still asleep, as it happens. Stede’s quiet about it as he has his shower and dresses again, goes out and rummages for breakfast. Sets his laptop on the counter as the bacon cooks in the pan and the toast fills the cabin with warm morning scents, and starts to tap out part of the story that’s honest, finally.

Rupert had always known Tāne was the braver of the two of them, and so he’d waited, and waited, and expected Tāne to save them both from themselves.

He knows that Tāne is brave; the bravest person he’s ever met in his life.

But it’s time for Rupert to be brave enough for him.

“Hey.” Ed’s voice is familiar, warm, and Stede’s already smiling when he turns to see him. He’s leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom, barefoot, wearing only a pair of lounge pants that drape loosely around his hips, hair out and messed up, eyes soft and a little vulnerable. “Did last night really happen?”

Stede opens up his arms, an invitation. “Not a dream.”

Ed’s crossing the room immediately to fold into his embrace, and they rock together in the kitchen like that for a minute. Stede can feel the love pouring off him in waves, and he knows it’s always been here. “Fuckin’ relief, mate,” Ed murmurs. “Can’t wait to tackle the rest of this month without having to keep the quiet bits quiet.”

Stede laughs. “We’ve been living a fan fiction dream, haven’t we?”

“Not done yet,” Ed says, pulling back and tucking a loose curl behind Stede’s ear. “We’re in our fast burn era now. Established relationship. Sequel? Happy ending. Fuckin’… post canon fix-it, I don’t know.”

“Aren’t we still in the canon era? Nothing to be fixed, surely?”

“Just improved. Explicit sexual content. More of it.” Ed tugs his hips closer, rocks them together. “Got about forty tags still to go this month.”

Fuck, this is such a long game, and they’re really only just getting started. “And today is…”

“Human furniture,” Ed says, grinning. He breaks away and snatches up the spatula; flips the bacon without a blink, and oh, yes, Stede had almost forgotten that. Wouldn’t do to set off the fire system here; they’re not going to mimic Tāne’s little arson streak.

“And what is… human furniture exactly? I did try looking that up, and all I got was a lot of lounge suites and bedroom units. Nice ones, mind you!” Ones that he’d found himself imagining in a shared bedroom one day, pondering what sort of headboard Ed might like, whether he’d be keen on matching side tables to if he’d prefer a more eclectic style once they blend their lives together, and… yes, perhaps he’s been getting slightly carried away.

Ed’s giggling as he retrieves the toast from the toaster, expertly grabs the tub of butter and spreads it over each piece, jamming one in his mouth as he flips the bacon out. Stede’s sliced strawberries, too, and he piles those onto the plates for a bit of vegetable content.

“It’s, uh. It’s whatever we want it to be.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I could be your table. Or your chair.”

“Could you?” It’s such a ridiculous thought that Stede can feel the incredulous expression on his face. “So I’d sit on you—“

“While you wrote, maybe.” Ed’s eyes are taking on that gleam that Stede’s come to know well; this is turning him on already, just the thought of it. “Choking’s the other one, and I don’t know—“

“I don’t want to choke you, Ed.”

“Don’t want to choke you, either.” He bites his lip. “Don’t mind a little bit of breath play, though.”

“Interesting.” Stede takes the plates over to the table and deposits them there, one at each place. “Let’s eat, and maybe we'll go with the flow. See what happens.”

He does, throughout the meal, watching Ed’s throat bob with each bite. They throw the first of the new episodes on in the background while they chat, and when all is done, he packs the dishes into the sink and turns back to Ed. “So. The chair situation.”

Ed leans back in his seat and gestures to his lap. “Right here, mate.”

It’s silly. It’s perfect, and Stede feels like this is needed, because god, everything has felt a touch too serious inside his head for the last few days. “All right, then.”

He gets his laptop set up and open, and then he settles back to sit on Ed’s lap. Not sitting on his cock. Not yet. Ed’s warm and solid underneath him, compelling Stede to sort of… slide his legs to either side, rocking back to find Ed’s already hard against his backside, and he twists to raise an eyebrow.

Ed just shrugs. “Not my fault. I’m just a chair.”

He’s trying very hard not to get the giggles about it. “Well, I’m not in the habit of talking to my chair, so I’ll just get on with this.”

It’s very distracting, trying to ignore the warmth of Ed against his back, the minute shift in his muscles as he tries to hold still. Stede types ostentatiously and deliberately, and if Ed were not cheating, he wouldn’t see a word of it. As it is, Ed’s definitely cheating, and he snorts at a line that Stede knew would get him, which prompts Stede to press back harder into his lap, drawing out a strangled gasp.

“Edward. You’re not being a very good chair.”

There’s a hand snaking around to the front of his shorts a moment later, diving down inside his waistband until it finds his cock and grips it. “Think I might quit without any encouragement.”

“All right, then. You’re a fine chair. You’re a very stable surface, mostly.”

Ed rolls his hips, like he wants a telling off, and Stede’s not going to give him that. Yet. Ed’s got his cock caught in the circle of his fist, thumbing over the head, and Stede drops his elbows onto the table to hold himself up.

“Keep typing,” Ed says, a low rumble against his back.

And that is considerably harder than it sounds.

“I’d like to think we’re on the same page,” Rupert pants, Tāne’s arms firm around his waist. “But perhaps just to be sure…”

Tāne bites a kiss into the side of his neck, tilts him back and grinds up against him, letting Rupert feel the hard line of his cock against the cleft of his ass. “You’re mine,” Tāne says, soft and possessive against his ear. Another kiss, a nip to his earlobe. “None of those others out there at that ball, not fucking one of them will ever get the chance to know what you feel like inside.”

Ed moans behind Stede, shifts until he’s managed to get his cock out, pressed up against Stede and rutting properly now.

“Well, that makes two of us, then.”

“Two of us what?”

Rupert lets the possessive heat trickle into his words. “Who’ll never belong to another again.”

Ed’s hand is sliding off his cock a moment later, and Stede almost whines in protest, but then Ed’s leaning hard up against his back, reaching for the keyboard and typing.

“Fuck,” Tāne says. “Say more.”

Stede barely manages to get his hands steady on the keyboard to type again.

Rupert stares at him. “I’m sure you’ve heard it all before.”

A soft huff of breath against his neck as Ed’s long arms reach around him again, tap against the keys.

Tāne’s not sure of that at all, and he says so. “I can always stand to hear it again.”

He’ll keep reassuring Ed over and over again, for as long as he needs to.

“I love you,” Rupert says, no hesitation left. He’s never questioned it, never doubted it, simply knew it as a sure fact from the moment they met. “We’re meant to be together.”

Ed doesn’t type anything else. He just pulls Stede’s chin around and kisses him, making Stede twist a bit on his lap, until his neck can’t go any further and he has to actually pivot all the way. The perfect position to kiss Ed the way he’s been wanting to throughout this ridiculous caper, jaw dropped, hungry and devouring, licking into his mouth and swallowing his moans. He reaches between them, gets their cocks out and lines them up, stroking them together.

Ed’s hand wanders up to his throat, and pauses there. “This okay?”

No pressure whatsoever, just a cradling touch. The strength of Ed’s hand around the most delicate part of him, pure trust, and he nods. “Yes. Kiss me again.”

They crash together again as he works their cocks over, feeling himself tilting ever closer to the edge, while Ed continues to hold him just like that, a thumb across his windpipe, careful and possessive and gentle, and god, it’s doing something for him, it is. He whines with the feeling of complete surrender, and in a moment his climax is tumbling through him, and he’s jerking up into his own hand as the slick spills over them both.

“Don’t stop,” he gasps out, remembering the prompt words at the last moment, and Ed follows a moment later, tightening his grip around Stede’s throat the smallest amount as he comes with a wordless shout.

They come down panting, and Ed’s hand slips away from his throat to loop around the back of his neck instead, and Stede lets his fingers wander up into Ed’s hair, too. They sit on the chair just like that, locked together and sticky and so in love that it almost hurts.

“Thank you,” he says, when he manages to catch his breath again. “For… everything.”

Ed just tilts his face and kisses him. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“I’d trust you with anything, Ed. I love you.”

He closes his eyes as he laughs. “Can’t fucking believe we can just say that now.” He opens his eyes again, fixes Stede with the deepest brown-eyed stare. “I love you, mate. But you’re heavy as fuck, get off.”

They go stumbling off to the shower hand in hand, laughing. Ready for the rest of the day, and for whatever else they might face together now that everything that matters has changed.

Chapter Text

Stede sits in the living room with his laptop on his knees, and flexes his hands. He has an assignment set by Ed, and he's not going to fail it, no matter how unconvinced he is that he's got the skills for this particular story. He gets started typing anyway.

“Tāne,” Rupert whispers, backed against the side of the boat. “What is happening?”

Everything has gone spectacularly wrong in the space of minutes, and now Rupert is reeling, because Tāne put on the supposedly cursed diving weight belt, yes, neither of them believed that very much, but then he’d stepped into the water, and then the water had started churning. Rupert’s heart had been in his throat, fearing that a shark had somehow made it into this lagoon and attacked without the slightest notice; if anyone was possessed of the world’s unluckiest timing it would have to be them. Just as he was hoping they’d made it over the biggest hurdle, just when he’d been brave enough to speak the truth of his feelings, or most of it.

But no, just as he’d been about to dive in after Tāne, prepared to fight a sea beast with his bare fists as needed, the foaming surf had stilled, and Tāne had re-emerged. His top half, anyway. His lovely face was etched with concern, perhaps regret?

“Rupe,” he says now, and there’s something about the always-deep timbre of his voice that’s different, split into many notes. “I have to tell you something.”

NOTES

S: Ed, can you take on the tentacle bits? Please? I don’t really have the expertise for this.

E: Mate, I don’t have any personal expertise in tentacles 😂

S: You’ve written tentacles before! Great tentacles!

E: Thank you, purely imagination.

S: My imagination might not be up to the task, I’m afraid.

Or maybe I just need you to… show me.

E: You coming onto me in the footnotes? 😏

S: What if I was?

E: I’d say… make me.

S: Is that… is that today’s phrase?

E: Yeah, along with the tentacles and the monster-fucking.

S: Christ.

I thought we agreed we’d let Tāne and Rupert take care of that.

E: You don’t want to fuck me? 🙁

Kidding, what can I say, they’re inspiring.

S: I can’t believe we’re actually getting episode five blended into this so well.

You’d think the tentacles were canon!

E: Still three episodes left, anything’s possible.

S: Should I come in there?

E: Nope. You stay right there and write me some lovely tentacles, mate.

When they’re up to scratch maybe I’ll show you mine.

S: ED.

E: Get writing! I’m only watching a little bit.

S: Aren’t you writing any? I thought this was a collaboration…

E: I’m doing a very important job.

It’s fingering myself open in the bedroom, that’s the job.

 

Fuck.

“Anything,” Rupert says, and he truly means it.

Which is just as well, because a moment later, the tip of a tentacle slides up over the side of the boat, and Rupert scrambles back with a screech. “Tāne! There’s something in the water with you—“

“It’s just me,” he says, and as the ringing in Rupert’s ears begins to fade, he says it again, softly. “This is me.”

It’s near impossible to comprehend, and Rupert stays frozen for a moment more, staring into his lover’s eyes. The same eyes, the same deep lovely brown as always, but now there are more tentacles moving, undulating, squirming up over the sides, and he can’t help the high pitch in his voice. “How many are there?”

At last, thank god, there’s a hint of a smile on Tāne’s face. “You’re not freaked out?”

“Yes, I’m freaked out! I’m completely losing my mind over here, actually! But I—I know you.” I love you, he can’t say. Not yet, not until Tāne’s ready to hear it again. “I’ll take you however you come, that’s a promise, no matter what. I’d like to see you.”

“No matter tentacles,” Tāne says, and barks out a laugh. “Okay, mate, have it your way.” He puts his very human hands on the side of the boat and pushes himself up and out of the water, propelled with a surge of water-churning strength from—oh god, that’s a lot of tentacles.

NOTES

S: Ed are you sure you don’t want to write this part?

E: …

Busy

S: 🧐

E: Do I have to say it again?

Wait I’ll send a photo

S: I’m in the next room!

I could just come in!

E: Not yet

Write faster

Rupert is flustered. Beyond flustered, he’s… mesmerised by the sight of Tāne’s full majesty as he slides fully into the boat. There are two, four, six, yes, predictably eight tentacles, near as he can see, and they’re a truly beautiful colour, a midnight black that’s covered all over in delicate tracings of bright purple, a luminescent lace net. They all seem to be moving while Tāne himself is rock still in the centre, eyes only for Rupert.

One of the tentacles slides around his bare ankle and starts to pull him forward, and he yanks back in a sudden panic. The tentacle lets go immediately, flinches in on itself.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to,” Tāne says gravely.

It’s a bigger conversation than one just about tentacles, isn’t it? It’s about their relationship, and where it’s going. The things they each need to say and can’t, the things they’d like to do, but… can we take this slow? He’s heard it from Tāne before, he can see it written all over his face, but that expression is shifting uncertainly.

Rupert’s never felt more certain of anything in his life. “I’d like to find out more about what you can do with those,” he says evenly. “If you’ll show me.”

Tāne takes a gasping breath, and then the tentacle is moving again, slithering, this time no hesitation as it curls around his ankle and his calf and up behind his knee. Another tentacle follows suit on the other leg, and as they make it around his waist there’s the tug of strong muscle under smooth skin, and Rupert finds himself pulled to the floor, the boat rocking in the afternoon waves. There are thunderheads building up out there on the horizon, climbing higher above them, he can see from this vantage point.

A storm is coming, and soon they’ll have to reckon with it.

Right now, he’s only got eyes for Tāne looming over him. He’s surrounded by so much strength as more tentacles wind around his body, ruffle their way up through his hair. The delicate tip of one finds the zip of his wetsuit and begins to slide it down before it pauses, Tāne lifting a brow in question.

He nods. “Yes.”

Yes, because this is Tāne, the core of him no different. Rupert knows him, loves him, wants him. The tentacle carries on, unzipping him inch by slow inch, peeling him out of the neoprene as it loosens, and in no time at all his top half is bare, and then his cock springs free. He hadn’t noticed how hard this was making him; it’s almost embarrassing. But Tāne just looks down at him and groans. “Look at you, so hard for me already.”

The wetsuit is yanked completely free of his legs. The long tendril is back a moment later, warm and insistent, spiralling to grasp his cock as another slips between his legs and nudges at his entrance. A question, a pause. They’ve been apart for so long, only just reunited, but Rupert wants this more than anything. He nods, and Tāne’s tentacle—the way eased by its own slick—slides past the ring of muscle and fills him.

NOTES

S: I hate this, it’s all terrible. Please help.

E: It’s fucking great

So good

So fucking good, Stede, I need

In here

Now

Please

Stede’s never shoved aside his laptop faster in his life, and he dashes from the living room to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway to catch his breath. Just as promised, Ed’s spread out across the bed, perfectly naked, legs spread wide as he fucks into himself with a—

“Ed, is that a tentacle?”

Ed’s toes curl into the comforter as he presses it more deeply inside him. It’s blue and purple, suckers up one side, thick at the base, and the way Ed just takes the widest part with every thrust has Stede’s insides dissolving instantly.

“Mm-hmm,” Ed says. The laptop’s still open on the bed beside him, and Stede goes across and snaps it shut, shifts it down to the floor. Hovers there for a moment, still fully dressed, somewhat out of his mind watching Ed pleasure himself.

“What should I do?”

Ed’s eyes fly open, unfocussed for a second before they meet his. He’s breathing through his teeth, the cords of his neck standing out. “Thought we might combine a few days into one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Because—" He huffs a breath in. “Because we get to fuck whenever we want now, however we want. Could use the next two days just for us.”

As if this isn’t all for them, but Stede understands what he means, and he sits on the side of the bed carefully. “Tentacles. Monster-fucking. I thought Tāne had the tentacles.”

“‘M not Tāne,” Ed pants out, and the tentacle sliding into him makes a slick sound. “I’m just Ed.”

If at some point his mind actually manages to catch up to every wild thing that’s happening here Stede will feel almost disappointed, because the reeling sense of being caught off guard is new. Invigorating. He reaches out to touch Ed’s thigh, where a line of goosebumps bobble over his skin. “Are we into RPF now, then?”

Ed’s next gasp turns into a laugh. “Fuck, when you put it like that—"

Real People Fiction, written about actual humans instead of the characters they play. Only in this case Stede and Ed get to play… themselves?

“Fuck-or-die,” Ed gets out, that line deepening between his brows as he strains to push the dildo deeper, and Stede moves instinctively to take the base of it for him, freeing him to throw his arms up behind his head to grip the pillow as Stede takes over fucking him with the toy. It’s firm silicone, and it bends a little with each thrust. Ed’s cock is hard and leaking where it lies against his stomach. “Covered the sex toys and fingering already.”

Stede laughs, because yes, they are doing that, aren’t they? “So hold on a moment.” He pauses with his thrusts, and Ed whines and squirms a little. “Is this a cryptid situation?”

Ed wheezes out a laugh. “Maybe.”

“Oh, after all those months of you teasing me about this, and now you’re the one getting monster-fucked?” He slides the tentacle back into Ed, watches his mouth fall open. “I think it suits you, getting fucked like this.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“So what’s the scenario, then? How do we get from tentacles to fuck-or-die?”

“Pheromones,” Ed grits out. “Fuckin’ tentacles are full of them.”

“Right, yes, that actually makes sense.” He shifts to kneel between Ed’s legs. “We’ve found this tentacled creature somewhere. And it’s… consented to all of this? Is it sentient enough for that? Have we?”

“Pretty fucking sentient, mate, yeah, and—" Ed groans, pivots his hips a little. “Yeah, this is what it’s into. We went looking for it because we’d heard. Wanted to try something a little different, keep it fresh.”

The slide of those suckers into Ed’s body is mesmerising, the way each one slips past his rim and disappears. “So we found it. But a little more than we bargained for.”

Ed’s biting his lip, shakes his head. “Didn’t do our research."

Stede arches a brow. “That doesn’t sound like us—"

“Maybe we got distracted.”

As it happens, Stede doesn’t know a single thing that’s happening beyond this bedroom. The entire forest could be burning down out there and he’d be utterly clueless about it, as focussed as he is on Ed’s pleasure, and so he supposes he should give their xenobotanist selves a break. “You got distracted, you’re the one getting tentacle fucked.”

Ed laughs breathlessly. “Got me there. Reckon you should get some too, though.”

He catches his breath. “Some tentacle, or you?”

“Both, because now I’ve been pheromoned.” He’s panting, putting on quite the convincing performance. “You’re going to have to fuck me or I’ll die, that’s the rules.”

And god, Stede’s been compelled like never in his life to fuck Ed over the last couple of weeks, but this, yes, this is a whole other level, the game taking him over, pushing the urgency through the roof and making his cock so hard he can barely stand it. “Christ, okay. So…”

Ed puts his hands up in surrender. “Can’t do anything from here, mate, I’ve got a tentacle in me. You’re going to have to get your gear off, then shift around.”

Stede feels like his brain might, in fact, be leaking out his ears right now. “As in?”

“Gear off first. Let me show you.”

He does as he’s told, operating on autopilot as he shimmies back off the bed and peels off his gear. Reminding himself of the story they’re inhabiting here, two research scientists on a mission to… look, he could get scientific about it, but it’s to fuck tentacles. That’s it. He stops short beside the bed. “Tentacles, plural?”

Ed reaches back and digs under the pillow, coming up with another tentacle very much like the first. “I like to carry a spare.”

Stede only just manages not to burst into startled laughter, and that’s largely because every remaining ounce of blood in his body has gone to his cock. “Well, what now?”

“Come rescue me,” Ed says, deep and low. “Think you should straddle me, turn around. Get a good look at what it’s doing to me down there.”

Fucking in and out of him, in this story they’re imagining, as Ed writhes on the ground and that tentacle spears into him, glistening and utterly single-minded. “But then my rear will be—oh.” Oh, he sees it now. His cock will be dangling over Ed’s mouth, his ass in position for his own tentacle insertion. “Fuck.”

It’s too much. It’s so much, and it’s only made worse when he lets Ed guide him over, and he glances up to see himself reflected in the mirror. He cannot look at his own face like this, and so he concentrates on Ed instead, peering down between his legs to get a better look at the tentacle. “I’m not sure this is the best angle for—fuck.”

Ed’s lubed finger has slid between his cheeks, and Ed pauses. “This good?”

“Don’t stop,” he gasps out, as he feels Ed’s breath ghost warmly over the tip of his cock. He can get into this in the full spirit of the thing, he can. He puts on his best explorer voice and says, “We came here to experiment and I’ll be damned if we don’t do that to the fullest!”

“Yes, sir,” Ed murmurs, and a moment later he’s sucking the head of Stede’s cock into his mouth, so much warm friction that he can’t help but let out a moan. And that drops his mouth open and makes him look down at Ed’s cock, and they really are in prime position for this, aren’t they? He reaches down and lifts Ed’s cock, pauses to press a kiss to the head, and then licks over it and envelops it in his mouth.

Ed’s answering moan vibrates through his cock, just as his finger slips inside Stede’s ass, and they rock like that for a minute, Stede using his other hand to move the tentacle back into Ed. It’s tangled up and it’s complicated, each of them sucking, each of them pressing into each other, and it’s only a minute more before Ed pulls his fingers free and presses the dildo inside him instead, and Stede gasps at the different sensation. Ed pulls off his cock.

“You okay?”

He has to pull off Ed’s cock to answer, swiping the drool away, marking that prompt as covered by both of them, because he can see Ed’s face upside down between his legs, lips shining. “God, your mouth.”

One of today’s phrases, and Ed laughs hoarsely. “You get the points for that one.”

“Very okay. Keep going.”

Ed does, sliding the toy into him and back out a few more times, and it really is incredible. The flare on the base has him feeling more stretched than ever before, the ridged bumps of the suckers lighting up nerve pathways inside him.

In a minute Ed presses it deep, then nudges him, pushes him off. “Keep that in you while you fuck me.”

He feels like reality has decidedly fragmented here as he pivots with it still clenched in his ass. “But what about your tentacle?”

Ed’s already pushing himself up to sit. “It came already, got whatever tentacle business it was doing done, and now I’m full of fucking pheromones and I need your dick in me. This is the life, Stede! Now act, or I die!” He gets Stede by the elbows, spins him and shoves him down onto the bed and climbs onto his lap, tossing his hair back over his shoulder, and the look in his eyes is nearly wild enough to sell the whole thing as he pulls his tentacle out and tosses it aside.

They’re both feeling it, he realises. The next nearest thing to an actual fuck-or-die situation, in which they cannot get enough of each other, no matter how much they have. Ed positions himself over Stede’s cock and pauses there one more time. “We’re going fucking fast here, are you absolutely positively okay?”

Stede answers by taking hold of his hips and yanking him forward, until his cock slides into place. “I think you’ll find I’ve been pheromoned, too.”

“All right, then.” Ed grins. “Let me take care of you.”

Fuck, the final phrase prompt. He’s sinking down onto Stede a moment later, eyes closed, moaning through it until he’s all the way seated. Stede’s cock is lodged inside Ed’s tight heat, and there’s a tentacle in his ass that’s filling him, as if he’s being fucked from both sides. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced, and this is going to ruin him, even before Ed takes a breath and starts to move, shifting his hips like a rodeo rider.

“Fuck, yes,” he growls out, fingers curling into Stede’s chest hair. Stede can’t do anything but hang on tight to his hips and watch in awe as Ed rocks on top of him. He’s beautiful like this, eyes closed, mouth dropped open, hair spilling out of the messy bun. All his favourite parts of Ed on display, from the lovely line of his neck to the glorious tattoos to the slightly soft swell of his belly, but god, like this, he can feel the muscle, too. Ed’s riding him smoothly, confidently, lifting and sliding back down onto his cock with every motion, his own cock slapping between them each time.

Lost in the game, like he needs this to survive, like Stede needs it, and god, maybe he does. He bottoms out and holds there for a long moment, rocking small circles with his hips, little squeezes that have Stede on the shivering edge in moments.

“Ed,” he whispers, and Ed’s eyes fly open, big and expressive and shining with abandon. “I think we’re going to make it.”

Ed’s mouth quirks into a smile that grows into a fully fledged grin, and he lifts himself all the way up and slides down again, making them both groan. “Think you’re right, mate.”

It doesn’t take long from there. Stede redoubles his grip and starts to fuck up into Ed, and Ed tips his head back and cries out with each thrust. He’s stroking his own cock a moment later, and then he’s arching his back, mouth open on a silent shout, a glorious sculptural moment as he comes in ropes across Stede’s belly.

It only takes seconds for his own climax to punch through him at that, and he can almost feel the imagined poison retreating from his system as the relief rushes through every inch of his limbs.

Ed collapses down onto him a moment later, slipping off his cock, and slides over to his side, still plastered along him.

“I think we did it,” Stede murmurs.

Not to be thinking in metaphors while Ed fucked him within an inch of his actual life, but god, it feels… appropriate for them? Now they’ve seen the truth of their feelings. Now they’re shoving aside everything about them that they’ve ever feared might make them too much or not enough to anyone else, all the inner monsters that nobody else has been able to love, and loving them in each other.

Their physical connection here is an expression of the emotional connection they share, but it’s also… saving Stede, in ways he can barely comprehend, let alone express.

He doesn’t know where to start. Ed’s just breathing against his shoulder, running one considered fingertip through the come on his stomach, and he feels like he should say something.

“I've never had space for play with… anyone else.” He doesn’t especially want to invoke Mary, but Ed knows as well as he does that he hasn’t dated before or since his marriage. “Have you?”

Ed tips his head back and gives him a sleepy smile. “Don’t mind a bit of role-play. Done it from time to time, yeah.”

He presses down the jealousy that’s bobbing up, and that’s… something. He’s never really felt that before, hearing about Ed’s past boyfriends, or the occasional girlfriend, because Ed was never his. And now he is, there’s some sort of niggling Neanderthal possessiveness that he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Not talk about it, that’s for sure, which is obviously why he opens his mouth and says, sounding decidedly not casual about it, “And how many people have you dated, then?”

Ed’s past is Ed’s business, he knows that, he believes that, and he’s kicking himself. But Ed just rolls back onto the mattress and hums. “I don’t know, three or four seriously? Fuckin’ heap more casually.”

Stede sets his jaw and determines not to let anything else get out, because that’s fine. That’s fine, that Ed’s had all of this with others before him. He won’t let his personal inadequacies make him doubt, because Ed’s here with him now, and Ed’s loved him quietly, faithfully for three years, and now he’s remembering those comments differently—too busy to date right now, mate, no, it’s been a bit since I’ve seen anyone.

Ed props himself up on his elbow, looks down over him. “You okay?”

“I am. I’m wonderful.” He means that. “That truly turned my brains to couscous, I think.”

Ed chuckles. “Roach’s finest, hell yeah.” He slumps back down again, wriggles a little to get comfortable. They’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, and Stede lets his hand wander down, laces his fingers through Ed’s.

“When do you think we should tell people about… us?”

Ed snorts. “I don’t know, I think half of them have guessed it already. You?”

“I’ll need to tell Mary and the kids, probably.” Not that they care a great deal, because Stede hasn’t been the most brilliant absent father, because Doug’s been there filling those shoes incredibly capably. “Just so they don’t hear it from anyone else.”

“S’pose I should tell my mum.”

“Oh, lovely.” Stede’s met Ed’s mum once, when she came over from Aotearoa for a visit. She was wonderful and warm and she’d whispered, thank you for taking care of him when they dropped her at the airport, before Ed spent the next three hours crying on his couch.

“Yeah, she’s not on the socials or anything, but it feels right to tell her. She’ll be fucking happy. Hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

It’s Stede’s turn to laugh, because god, now he’s having to recalibrate a lot of thoughts in his head. If he and Ed last, and there’s no other option, is there? Well, then Liz is going to be his mother-in-law, and that’s a hell of a thought. A fantastic one. And Ed’s going to be a step-dad to his kids, Christ, he sincerely hopes that Ed’s all right with that, but from the few times he’s met the children, it feels like that’s a given.

“Will this… make it weird at work, do you think?” It concerns him less than it would have a few years ago, when he’d had no queer friends and no idea whatsoever who he was. Now he’d just like it not to become a weapon, instead of the lovely thing it is.

Ed snorts. “I don’t give a fuck, do you?”

“No! No, I just… I hope the Badmintons won’t be assholes about it.”

“Have they ever been anything other than assholes?” Ed’s smile is gentle. “Fuck ‘em, babe. We’ll keep winning, no matter what.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He squeezes Ed’s hand. “This is too important to me.”

“Me too. But, uh. Maybe we just wait a little longer before we let everyone know. Until you're sure.”

“All right.” He is sure. But it seems for the best, as impatient as he feels about wanting to tell the world that Ed is with him, has chosen him for this incredible privilege.

He knows, he knows that they’re strong enough to get through anything that anyone else lobs their way, it’s just… he likes this little bubble they’re in, too. He’d like to stay here, bring it with them, let this be as pure and as lovely as it has been from the start.

The real world, though. It’s pushing in against them all the time, and he doesn't know how much longer they can hold it back.

~

The new crew arriving in the morning are specialists Stede’s pulled together over the last couple of days, people they both know by reputation more than anything. They get up early and get their shit together, because the regular crew has built a kind of shorthand together over all the years. They know each other, they don’t have to fill in all the gaps. New people, it’s a little different, so Ed's out on the porch waiting to meet them long before they actually pull up in a Red Flag Consultancy vehicle.

“You must be Ed Teach,” Zheng Yi Sao says, after she hops out of the truck and comes up the stairs. She holds out a hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

“I know, right?” Ed shakes. “Heard a lot about you, too. Think we’ll work well together.”

She’s got a sharp-edged air of competence that anyone would be a fool to underestimate. “I hope so.” She smiles and steps aside as the others come up. “This is Auntie, our bird expert.”

He shakes her hand. “Buttons recommends you highly.”

Auntie looks like she could murder people with her eyes, but she tips her head and says, “I have a lot of respect for him.”

Zheng waves again. “And this is Archie.”

“How the fuck are ya?” Archie comes bounding up the stairs, a ball of chaotic energy if he’s ever seen one, and she doesn’t offer a handshake. Just punches him in the arm the exact same way Jim always does it, and Ed barks out a laugh.

“Fuckin’ great, how are you?”

“Happy to be here.” She waves back toward the meadow. “Buttons reckons you might have a lot of snakes out here that could use a second look.”

Stede chooses that moment to wander out the door, and he stops quite suddenly. “Did I hear you say there are a lot of snakes out there? In the meadow?”

The meadow where Ed had been kneeling with his kit off just last week, yeah. Archie makes a face. “Fuckin’ snakes everywhere, mate. Welcome to Planet Earth.” She reaches out and punches Stede's shoulder, too, and Stede exchanges a wide-eyed glance with Ed, who look, yeah, isn’t very into snakes, despite the inked one weaving down his arm. Got it in some kind of misguided attempt to desensitise himself, just like the spider on his other hand, and nope. Jumpscares himself all the time with it instead, which is why he likes to wear the gloves. The snake’s cool, though, so he doesn’t mind that one being on display, and he hasn’t missed the way Archie’s eyeing it up.

He'd love it if there were absolutely fucking zero snakes out there, just like home, and he's going to keep pretending that for as long as he can.

Zheng gestures out toward the ocean. “I’ll be examining the shoreline for now, and I’ll come back to dive if it’s needed.”

The last person climbs out of the car, and Ed lets out a hoot. “Fang!” He’s off down the stairs, sprinting to meet his old mate, who grabs him round the middle and gives him a little swing through the air.

“Hey, Ed, good to see you.”

Fang sets him down with a last squeeze, and Ed pats his shoulder as they both make their way back up to the porch. “Haven’t seen a single goat out here, sorry to say.”

Auntie tuts. “That’s because you’re not looking in the right place.” They all pivot to look at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, you’ve been concentrating on the wetlands? The forest?”

“That’s our specialty,” Stede says, with a faint smile. “We have had the rest of the team through, though. But we knew we needed a bit more attention on the mountain and the shoreline, which is why I reached out.”

“You’ve got some affected birds on the wetlands,” Auntie says slowly. “Some affected trees in the forest.”

Stede nods. “Yes, and some odd results in the water. Low oxygen, some dying algae species.”

“Those do go with the low oxygen, yes.” She pivots, sweeping a hand to gesture the whole environment, ocean to wetland to meadow to forest, and lands on the mountain. “There.”

“The… mountain?” Stede says. “You think something’s happening there?”

“Oh, I know it,” she says, grinning for the first time. “Only thing we need to find is proof.”

“Fuckin’ great,” Ed says, and claps his hands. “That’s what we’re here for, yeah? Everyone get suited up, let’s get to work.”

They get down to it, digging out the necessary equipment and pulling on boots and other gear, and Ed winds up next to Fang on the porch again, while Stede’s down chatting to Zheng beside the car.

Fang nudges him as he’s down tying his laces, and Ed looks up to find his old friend grinning at him. “You look happy.”

He huffs out a laugh. “You don’t miss much. I am.”

“It’s lovely to see.” He nods out toward the car. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

“That obvious?” He finishes tying the laces, and stands up, rests his elbows on the railing. Stede’s got his head back, laughing at something Zheng’s just said; she doesn’t look as amused, and Ed shakes his head fondly. “Yeah, we’re, uh…” Yesterday’s conversation comes back to him, the who do we tell when of it all. But he’s known Fang longer than nearly anyone. “We’re a thing. Keeping it a little quiet for now, though.”

“Knew it.” Fang’s almost wiggling with delight. “I like him. You’re good together.”

“Well, thank you. I like him, too.”

So fucking much, and it keeps growing every day. It’s becoming an eclipse, a supernova, burning up all his other attention, and fuck, he needs to pull that back. They’ve got so much to do here, but everything’s becoming a glowing haze of Stede. At least they’re doing all the other shit together, because that’s the only chance he’s got to keep his head.

“I’ll go up the mountain with Auntie- you coming with us?”

That means leaving Stede to go to the beach with Zheng and Archie, and Ed almost says no. When did he suddenly get so fucking attached to Stede that the idea of being out of his sight for five minutes makes his stomach hurt? He’s magnetised, mesmerised, so fucking in love that it hurts, and there’s never going to be too much Stede for him. Definitely such a thing as not enough, but he can handle that for a few hours, right?

“Yeah, sounds good.” He jogs down the stairs and excuses Stede from the conversation he’s having, tells him that he needs to cross check something in the equipment shed.

They walk across to it side by side, and Ed carefully doesn’t look at his face until he’s eased the door open, tugged Stede over the threshold and into the dark, musty space.

“Ed, is everything all right? What equipment—mmph!” Stede doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Ed has him shoved up against the wall of the shed, kissing him like he needs it to breathe. Stede’s stiff for a moment, and then he melts into it, slinging his arms around Ed’s neck.

He comes up for air panting. “Everything’s fine. Just a last equipment check, like I said.” He nudges his knee between Stede’s thighs, watches his eyes widen. Kisses the hinge of his jaw, sucks a kiss into his neck, but lightly enough not to leave a mark. Stede’s hips rock involuntarily against his thigh, and Ed chuckles. “There you are. Think you can get off before they come find us?”

Stede groans, but the question’s answered by Zheng calling from outside, off in the distance. “Stede? We really should get going.”

“Fuck,” Stede says distinctly, nodding down between them, to where they’ve got matching bulges. “Well, that’s going to be a problem all day.”

Ed kisses him softly on the cheek. “Come find me about it tonight.”

“I will,” Stede breathes into his mouth.

Ed turns on his heel and goes stalking away, putting a little bit of extra hip into his walk, and a glance over his shoulder shows Stede still slumped against the wall of the shed, a besotted look on his face that’s all for Ed. He can’t remember the last time anyone looked at him like that before Stede; maybe never.

Once upon a time he’d have been scared to get too used to that, in case he lost it. Like, last week that had terrified him. Now he needs it to breathe, and he’s never been gladder.

~

The drive down to the beach is a noisy one, with Archie in the back. She’s one of those people who seems intent on filling every bit of silence with conversation, and she’s lovely, but god, she’s draining Stede’s social battery fast.

“So then I’m there with a snake in each hand, right? And they’re both fucking venomous! And I can’t put one down without it biting my fucking foot, so I’m just—“ She waves her hands. “I’m just fucking swinging them the fuck around, hoping they’ll get dizzy or something. And then I realise I can just—bonk.” Her fists come together in the middle. “Just give ‘em a little whack together, voila, they’re both having a snooze. Dropped ‘em and ran.”

Stede’s concentrating on the track ahead, but he glances at her in the rear-view, incredulous. “Was there not a risk that they’d each bite the opposite hand when you whacked them together?”

Archie laughs, wags a finger. “I like you. Yeah, but fuck it, life’s no fun without a bit of risk, is it?”

Christ, until this week, he probably wouldn’t have agreed with that. Might have just said, you know, life’s actually wonderful without extra risk. When things feel safe, then you can self-actualise and all that. But perhaps he’s grown a bit accustomed, over the last couple of decades of adulthood, to mistaking safety for inertia, self-actualisation for stagnation.

He’s taken all sorts of risks this month, and the reward’s been beyond anything he’d imagined possible. He supposes the only thing for it is to keep taking risks.

“No,” he says. “No, a little bit of risk definitely keeps things interesting.”

“There shouldn’t be much risk out here,” Zheng says. Her voice is a deep, calm drawl that Stede finds quite mesmerising, and she gives him a polite smile. “I think you’ll find the sea is more restorative than contaminated.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” he says. “Not that we’ve—I’ve—been swimming or anything. Just in case.”

“I’m glad to hear it. That’s sensible, until you know what’s going on.”

They’re drawing up to the sand now, the edge of the crescent of yellow that gleams in the sun, and Zheng climbs out of the car, taking in every angle immediately. Archie clambers out after her, a lot less graceful about it.

“All right, I’m going to go dig in the bushes, see if I can’t come up with some reptiles.” She says it like she’s talking about beers at a party, complete with a flashy hand signal.

“Good luck with that!” Stede says, watching her go. She’s sleeveless, but she’s got some solid leather cuffs at her wrists, so hopefully that helps in case of surprise snake bite? Solid combat boots over the torn jeans, though. Stede has a sneaking suspicion that no snake out there is a match for Archie.

He turns back to Zheng, but she’s already gone striding out onto the beach, and he scrambles to follow. “So what’s the priority today? Seaweed, water samples…?”

“Whatever’s here,” she says. “It’s about the bigger picture overall.”

“Of course.” That’s exactly what they’ve been looking at the whole time. “Well, let me know if I can help you with anything.”

“I’ve got it. I don’t need any help.”

Stede had been thoroughly sure of that himself at different points in time, but it’s never gotten him far. “Still, I’m here as an extra pair of hands!” She doesn’t answer, and he waves toward the scattered scrub that’s thin along the margins of the beach. “I’ll just… yes.”

It’s ordinary coastal flora, nothing especially exciting. Succulents, creepers, grasses. Nothing invasive here, all of it healthy, and he documents it quickly, because there’s really not much to find. Not like the forest, where every direction he turns shows him a new angle on a problem he can’t quite grasp. It’s frustrating, but it’s like this every time. Sooner or later the information coalesces to a point where it all suddenly makes sense.

It’s a rambling half hour later, and he’s inspecting a cluster of flowers growing from a rocky outcrop near the edge of the cliffs that rise out of the ground and extend into the ocean when Zheng materialises beside him, and Stede lets out a yelp of surprise.

“Hi.” She gives him a nose-wrinkled smile, and no further preamble. “What’s it like working with Teach?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful. He’s wonderful.” He catches himself, feels the smile starting to spread. Maybe we just… wait a little longer before we let everyone know. Don’t give it away, don’t hint at what they’re doing here. He trawls for the the right thing and lands, on, “He’s very… experienced.” Damn it.

Zheng’s brow goes up. “I’ve heard he can be unconventional in his approaches.”

He’s still caught thinking somewhat instantly, catastrophically about the way Ed’s mouth feels sinking around his cock, and the flush rises in his cheeks. He lets out a nervous laugh. “Well, I suppose anything can be unconventional in the right hands, or the wrong ones.”

She’s still staring at him. “He’s been close to some… interesting environmental outcomes.”

And that—that’s confusing. He frowns. “What?”

She looks over her shoulder, as if there’s someone likely to be listening out here in the middle of nowhere, or perhaps it’s more about making Stede feel like he’s in on something, because suddenly he’s leaning closer to hear it. “He’s got a reputation, I’m sure you know.” She spaces it out, like it’s a bad thing. Rep-u-ta-tion.

“A very good one! He’s an excellent scientist.” The sudden sense of having the rug yanked out from under him is something, and it’s leaving him unbalanced, because he’s not sure where he’s about to land. He doesn’t even want to ask, but he has to. “Have you heard something specific about him?”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about him. He’s a fucking madman.”

Stede splutters, feels the comment like a plank to the face, incandescently offended on Ed’s behalf. “He’s a good man. A very good one!”

Zheng sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “Stede. Do you remember the situation at Fern Creek?”

He racks his brains for a moment, eventually comes up with something. “The… dam that cracked? The flood?”

“That’s the one. Ed was working on it beforehand.”

He frowns. “Was he? I’m not sure. It was before my time.” He remembers the day, though. He’d been at the old environmental consultancy then, Christ, he hadn’t even known Ed existed. On that day phones and computers had started pinging around the office, murmurs gathering in intensity as they understood the news. And thinking about it is rumbling up some adjacent memories, actually, because of course they’ve talked about it before. ”You know, I think Ed was meant to be working on it. He’s talked about it before.”

One of Ed’s fantastic stories, because he has so many. There I was, minding my own business, when the river came back to herself—

They’d all heard the details at the time. The relatively new dam had cracked, the water had broken through, and the whole thing had crumbled, shattering, releasing tens of thousands of megalitres of water, which had rushed down through the previously drained valley and flooded it completely. Soon enough after construction for it to be full of water, but not soon enough for anything to have been built in the valley, so there was very little structural damage. The environment today is thriving again, but it had been a shock to everyone at the time, totally unexpected.

They’d all known that the dam had caused significant damage to the environment, and it was having impacts upstream. And if Zheng’s right, Ed had been one of the people who assessed the damage.

That morning, because he was there. He's said. He’d been far enough from it when the dam broke not to get caught up in it, but…

Zheng is watching him carefully. “Any pieces falling into place?”

He shakes his head, dazed. “No. No, I’d know. I know Ed.”

“I’m sure you do.” She chuckles. “I don’t want to assume, but if you’re that loyal to Teach I think I can trust you, so… to be clear, I support whatever approach is going to fix the world and have the bad guys get their due.” She raises a significant brow. “You get it?”

“I think so.” He’s slid sideways and landed in Tree Change, maybe. He’s tripped and fallen into a fic. All this time they’ve been pondering the possibility that there’s really something going on here, talking about the potential need to burn it all down, and now Zheng’s standing right in front of him implying—“Wait, do you think there is something going on here, at this property?”

“Stede.” She reaches out and pats his shoulder. “I think you already know the answer to that without me needing to say it.” She nods back toward the rest of the property, to the mountain that’s rising up over everything. “I think we should go and find out what they’ve discovered, don’t you?”

He stares in the same direction for a moment, the sky a broad blue behind the rocky reaches of the summit, breathing the sea air. It’s peaceful here. Parts of it are thriving, in spite of any poison that might be slowly leaching into things from any other source. They can fix it, even if they find something, they can.

But he knows how it goes in Tree Change: how much damage will be done first? And is it only the environment he’s got to worry about?

His train of thought is cut short as Archie leaps suddenly out of the nearest shrubbery, a writhing length of copper muscle clutched in her hand, her grin utterly manic. “Check it out, I found a good one!”

Stede takes a big step back, collides with Zheng, who doesn’t even flinch. Just says, “And?”

Archie comes closer, waving the snake a little. The reptile’s mouth is wide open in an enraged hiss, fangs gleaming in the morning sun, and the tail end is looping up and over her forearm, the creature putting everything into turning the tables. Archie’s utterly nonchalant about it. “There’s some erratic behaviour. Caught this little fella without a fight, wouldn’t normally be like that. He’s sluggish, a bit of scale loss. Signs of heavy metal poisoning, maybe? Something going on.”

Archie turns to Stede, and with the motion, it’s like the snake turns to look at him, too, letting out an extra hiss that has him lurching away. “It’s the cycle, yeah? They eat the small rodents, the birds. The ones that eat the insects, so anything that’s an underlying problem moves up the chain. Amplifies, like, if one worm ingests a little poison, then one bird eats three of the fuckers, then one snake eats that, you know the drill…”

“Of course.” He knows that very well, but the reminder is a welcome one. It’s why they’re trying to expand the focus onto other species with the people they’ve brought in today, and he’s got to admit, he didn’t quite anticipate that Archie would make the fastest sense of it, which is on him. “And what are you going to… do with it?”

She grins, all teeth. “Thought I might shove him somewhere tight and dark and take him home, if you know what I mean.” She pauses. “In the bag. To the lab.”

He waves it away. “Obviously.”

Obviously. Everyone knows what they’re doing here, every single person. Perhaps except for him, because god. The last ten minutes has torn him out of what felt like absolute certainty, and pushed him into doubt.

If Ed really is involved in something like that, destruction of property in pursuit of environmental vengeance, and he hasn’t told Stede…

What else has he done?

And where’s the complete trust they were supposed to share?

~

“Not much further to go,” Auntie says, and that, Ed knows, is a big fucking lie. He’s been dragging himself up this mountain behind her for hours now as she pauses to assess the bird shit on every rock, and at this point he’d swear the woman is part machine.

Ed’s panting for breath and almost whining. “Do you need me for this? Maybe I should just go back down and—“

She pivots to look at him. “I thought you were the ecologist in charge.”

“Co-ecologist in charge,” he grits out, swiping off his cap and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Go on, then, what’s the shit story here?”

She bends down to the nearest boulder and swipes a finger through the shit, making Ed wince. “It’s what I thought. The closer we get to the peak, the more we’re seeing bat guano.”

“Bats,” he repeats flatly. “Not birds?”

“Both. But in this instance, bats, yes.”

Fang comes huffing up behind him a second later, a baby goat clutched in his arms. “Look at this little fella! Isn’t he the cutest thing?”

Fucking hell, this is getting weird. Ed shrugs. “S’pose he is pretty cute.” The goat has big eyes, soft ears, fur patterned in patches of brown and white. He reaches out to give it a little pat, and it whips its head around and snaps at his finger. “Fuck you.”

“He’s just hungry,” Fang coos. “Aren’t you, hmm?” He looks up, his expressive face twisting in sadness. “Found his mum back there. At rest.” He whispers the last bit, like the baby goat can understand it. The mother goat’s dead, yeah, okay, chalk that one up on the guilt board.

Ed looks out across the span of country he can see from up here, from probably three quarters of the way up. The cabin’s down there, tiny, a little oasis in the big field of yellow and orange flowers. The ocean’s gleaming on the horizon, and there’s a patchwork of fields and scrubland and forest spreading out into the distance the other way.

“Something’s wrong,” he says, because he feels it the same way the electric buzz of a storm zings in his knee long before there’s a cloud on the horizon.

“You think?” Auntie says, heavy with sarcasm. She nods down toward the forest. “Do you see the pattern yet?”

He follows her gaze down to the canopy, and yeah, it’s not his thing, it’s Stede’s, but… he sees it from up here. There’s the green of it all, the shifting shades of different species, different heights, but scattered in between there are discordant colours, beiges and greys, tree deaths happening in real time, right before their eyes.

“It’s not in the water,” he says, because that’s his speciality. They’ve tested that. He’s taken samples from creeks and ponds and wetlands, every variety of wet environment he can find here.

“It’s not in the fluvial water, no,” Auntie says, and nods higher. “Keep climbing.”

Not in the streams, not in the rivers, not on the surface. Not falling out of the sky with the rain, not evaporating up there from the lakes. Not in the ocean, either, he’s already willing to bet, even before Zheng comes back with her answer.

“The groundwater,” he murmurs, talking almost to himself. “The aquifers.” The deep subsurface water reservoirs that don’t feed these wetlands, but the trees tap down into them, with their deep roots. Some species more than others, drilling down with a tap root instead of spreading out wide.

“Climb!” Auntie yells, already ten feet higher up the rocky path.

“I’m going to take this little guy back down,” Fang tells him, and Ed nods, waves him off, fuckin’ glad to see someone escape this particular hell. And then he does as he’s told, scrambling up after Auntie. The slope’s not too steep, and there are natural tracks all around, easy pathways between boulders.

“There’s a cave somewhere,” she tells him when he catches up, eyes scanning the rock faces as they pass. “It’s going to start high, go deep. And what we’re looking for, we’ll find down there.”

That’s why she’s chasing the bats, following the guano trail from rock to rock, because the bats get into caves, no matter how blocked off they seem. He’s full of admiration for her and her almost supernatural skill here; no wonder she and Buttons get along so well.

They’re almost at the peak when she finally stops, slings out an arm and halts him. “There.”

He follows her over. It’s a rock face like any other in front of them, a granite slab, streaked with white, lacy lichen growing across it. “What now?” he asks. “Secret password?”

She scoffs, already inspecting the planes of rock, following a join-the-dots puzzle he can barely even see. And they both spot it at the same time, near the top, tucked under an overhang. A tuft of grass that’s fluttering in a different direction from the rest, like it’s being blown aside from a different source.

“Jackpot,” she says, laughing triumphantly. “We’ve found the jackpot.”

And the jackpot is locked behind fuck knows how many tonnes of rock, and Ed stands back with his hands on his hips, feeling the creeping sense of unease building higher. “What next?”

“Ed?” Stede’s voice sounds out behind him, loud enough that it echoes down the mountainside, rolls out across the field. “Ed, are you up here?”

“I’m here!” he yells back. Big fucking relief to hear Stede after a whole day apart, but when he steps back onto the path and sees Stede huffing up toward him, the relief evaporates a little. Because Stede looks… upset. “Everything okay? Did you find something?”

Stede stops a few feet short of him, catching his breath. Zheng strolls up behind him like she’s just been for a wander by the seaside, not climbing a couple of thousand feet of mountainside. “Hi Ed. No, we didn’t find anything significant down there. The ocean’s looking clear.”

“A snake,” Stede gets out. “Some sort of… half-dead snake, I don’t know.”

“Right.” That explains absolutely nothing about the way Stede’s looking at him. “So, uh…”

“What’ve you found up here?” He sees the moment that Stede gets himself together, switches over to a new mask, and that feels maybe worse than before, somehow. Now he knows something is wrong, and he knows Stede is hiding it. “Anything interesting?”

“There’s a cave,” Auntie says, leaning against the rock face with one hand. “Your answer’s down there.”

Zheng goes over and inspects it, spots the gap at the top immediately. “Is this a natural formation, or it’s been moved there?”

“Brought down at some point,” Auntie says, nodding to the slope above. “I’d guess intentionally. Might’ve been some dynamite involved.”

“Really,” Stede says flatly, and he pivots to look at Ed. “Maybe we could do with some dynamite to fix the problem, then.”

Ed frowns. “That doesn’t sound like us.”

“No, it doesn’t, does it?” Stede’s walking away from him a second later, heading for the rock face, and Ed resists the urge to reach out and grab him, yank him back, ask him what the fuck is happening. He inspects it for a minute, sees nothing, and turns to Auntie. “Say we do manage to clear the entrance. What next?”

“It’ll be a steep shaft,” Auntie says authoritatively. “Betting it relates to a former mining operation. You’ll need someone who’s able to descend into a cave with ropes.”

Ed groans. “Fuck, I see where this is going.” Absolutely the fuck not, but nobody else comes to mind. “Maybe we can find someone interstate if we need to.”

Stede eyes him quizzically. “Someone other than?”

“Jack,” he grits out. “Jack Rackham. Only guy I’ve really worked with before on this shit.” And they’d both been adrenaline junkies in their own ways, and that had come together in the bedroom more than anywhere. He doesn’t want Jack within a nautical mile of Stede, for a lot of different reasons.

“Well, if he’s your friend, I’m sure there’s something competent about him.” Stede’s bitchy eyebrow is getting curvier all the time. “Does he also know how to blow things up?”

Ed grits his teeth. “No. There’s, uh. There’s one other guy I can call on for that.”

Stede knows, it hits him suddenly, like a slap clean across the face. He knows Stede better than anyone, and he knows that look. Ed’s no slouch at this- it’s why he’s the best at ecology, at figuring out what’s between the lines, but Stede’s right up there with him. Taking the individual pieces of information, connecting the dots, understanding the underlying factors. The morning out there with Zheng, who’d heard a lot about him. The way Stede’s attitude has changed in the course of hours.

The panic fizzes and bubbles in his stomach, because the only conclusion he’s got is that Stede knows, and Ed’s been trying his fucking hardest not to let that happen.

“It’s Izzy, isn’t it?” Stede says softly. “You need to call Izzy.”

He nods. “Yeah, mate, I think it’s time.”

They’ve got more than explosive history to face up to, he and Izzy. He’s been putting it off, pushing it back, trying not to let the show influence things. Trying not to think about it at all, actually, but sooner or later the bill always comes due.

“Great, then,” Auntie says. “You’ll call if you need me back?”

“We will,” Stede promises her, and the fact that he’s not looking at Ed is maybe the worst thing of all. “I think we’re getting a lot closer to the answers we’re all seeking.”

~

Stede doesn’t know what to do about any of it at this point, and he’s historically not been excellent at making up his mind about that sort of thing, or about getting it right, period. The whole way back to the cabin it churns in his head, because he saw the look on Ed’s face up there, as good as confirmation. He saw that, and now he knows there are secrets he hadn’t anticipated here, that Ed’s been keeping from him.

He thumps the 4WD into a trough in the creek as he drives over it, sending out a cascade of water on either side, and Zheng clutches the dash without an ounce of subtlety.

Ed’s entitled to secrets. He’s not obliged to tell Stede a thing, actually.

It’s just that Stede sort of assumed he did share everything anyway. And now he knows that he’s been wrong about that, it leaves him in some kind of frightening limbo. The only thing for it is to redraw the boundaries, let Ed tell him what he is and isn’t willing to say.

Ed’s not far behind them, Auntie driving the other vehicle, and it’s only a couple of minutes before they’re back at the cabin. Everyone switches out, shuffles around, collects equipment and leaves. They watch the car go until it disappears across the meadow and into the wetlands. This morning feels light years behind them, warm and cosy in the equipment shed, and when Ed turns to him and opens his mouth to talk, Stede panics and pushes past him, not ready to hear it.

He’s not ready for this at all.

He gets in the shower, scrubs off the sweat and dirt of the day, and changes back into jeans and a t-shirt when he’s done. Stares himself in the face in the mirror as he rubs the couple of days’ stubble on his chin. “I am adequate,” he whispers to himself, no matter what’s coming.

Ed’s nowhere to be seen when he wanders out, and there’s a momentary thump of panic in his chest. But when he peers out the door, the truck is still there, so Ed is… somewhere. It’s fine. It’s absolutely fine.

He paces anyway, from the kitchen to the lounge and back, too worked up to eat anything or drink anything or sit. Ed’s keys are on the table but his phone is missing, and that makes sense. He’ll be out there talking to Jack, probably, one of the old boyfriends Stede does know too much about, and suddenly Stede has to stop with a hand on the wall, because the pang of misery nearly takes him out. He’s an idiot, god, what did he expect? He might be adequate, but there’s always someone better.

He’s paced his way into the bedroom, hovering beside the window as he watches the last sunlight leach from the sky, when he hears the slap of the screen door closing, and Ed’s footsteps in the hall.

He’s at the door a moment later, all fresh from the outside shower, dressed again in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he stops there, face soft. “Hey. You okay?”

He shakes his head, because the echo of that night, that question in the same soft tone, right here, prompting him to confess his love, is too much, too intense. “No. No, I’m definitely not okay. Are you okay?”

“Been better,” Ed says, and his mouth twists in a wry smile. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

If it were Mary, perhaps anyone else, Stede would probably stay right where he is, lob verbal missiles over there from a distance. But no, this is Ed. This is Ed, who only just told Stede that he loved him, who woke up this morning murmuring it against his neck, who’s still looking at him like that, amongst everything else that might not be, is true.

They promised to keep talking to each other, didn’t they? Not like Rupert and Tāne.

He crosses the room, until he’s face to face with Ed. Both barefoot, and without any evening-out influence from Stede’s favourite heeled boots, Ed’s a couple of inches taller, and Stede has to look up into his face to meet his eyes. “Did you destroy the Fern Creek dam?”

Ed blinks, and it says everything. Enough that anything that comes after will either be a confirmation or a lie, and Stede’s heart rabbits in his chest in fear that the latter will win, absolute terror of either option, actually. He can’t take the question back. And then Ed’s face softens again, and he puts his hands on Stede’s arms and strokes. “Yeah, mate, that was me.”

He’d thought the lie would punch him harder in the gut than the truth, but no, that… god. His breath huffs out of him, and he’s embarrassed to discover that there are tears welling in his eyes. “Why, Ed?” Not why destroy something that was destroying the environment, no, he understands that, it’s just—“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ed’s brows have drawn together fully. “It was before I met you. Kinda, not the thing you lead with, yeah? Hey, I'm Ed, I blow shit up sometimes. Didn’t want you to get in trouble, knowing about it.”

He doesn’t know where to start with that. “Ed, we are best friends. Anything you got in trouble for, I’d be there beside you.”

Ed’s face is twisting through a number of different modes, from concerned to soft to incredulous. “We only admitted our feelings for each other what, two days ago? There’s a lot we don’t know about each other, Stede.”

“Then tell me, Christ. Everything.” A sob tears itself out of his chest. “Don’t you trust me?”

Ed’s been leaning closer the whole time, and now he slides his arms around Stede’s waist. “I trust you more than anyone. I fucking love you, it’s all true. I just didn’t tell you about that bit because I can’t fucking stand the idea of you getting in the shit for me.”

He can’t help how shrill his voice is getting. “And where would Rupert and Tāne be if they had that attitude, hmm?”

Ed’s lips twitch. “Probably not shipwrecked on a fucking island?”

“But at least they’re together!”

Ed strokes his cheek. “So are we. Here we are, no risks, nobody’s looking for me—“

Oh, if only that were true. “Zheng knew! She told me.”

Ed curses under his breath. “She hasn’t told anyone, or they’d be here. Or she’d be fucking… asking for something, I don't know—”

“No, I think she wants to help, it’s just… Ed.” He looks up into Ed’s eyes again. “If you’re going to blow up a dam, I want to be right beside you blowing up that dam. If you go to jail for it, I want to go to jail with you. I want to be the Rupert to your Tāne. I’m all in—“

Ed cuts him off by kissing him ferociously, and Stede can’t help the sound he lets out, a desperate kind of moan as Ed’s hands find their way up to his neck and tug him closer, their mouths grinding together, hungry. There’s a deep need sparking in his belly, a desperation that Ed seems to reflect.

“Fuck,” he says, breaking away. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I trust you. I trust you more than anyone.”

“Ed, do you… do you blow up a lot of dams?”

Ed squeezes his eyes shut and laughs. “Nah. Haven’t done any of it since Izzy left. But, uh. Before that? Might’ve wrecked some other stuff along the way.” Stede stares at him, and the smile drops off Ed’s face. He clears his throat a little. “It’s a lot, I know. If you don’t want to be with me now you know that, I get it, I’ll—“

It’s Stede’s turn to cut him off with a kiss, repeating that night as he shoves Ed back against the doorframe and all but climbs him, pressing open-mouthed kisses into his neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, clinging on as Ed grinds up against him and groans. He fixes Ed with a stare. “Edward, I’ve just dedicated three years of my life to worshipping a show about ecologists fighting for the environment.” His hand has roamed down over Ed’s shirt, and he’s landed with his palm pressed over the hard length of Ed’s cock, where it’s caught in his jeans. He presses harder, looks up again. “You think I wouldn’t worship you for the exact same reasons?”

They stay like that for a moment more, breathing the same air, before Ed swears again, and this time he pushes off the wall and starts to move them back toward the bed with purpose, kissing Stede as he goes. “You mean everything to me, Stede. If you were disappointed in me it’d be the end of the fucking world.”

“I’m not,” he manages to gasp out, around Ed’s lips on his. “I could never be.”

“I love you,” Ed says again. Takes Stede’s cheeks in his hands like he needs him to see it as directly as he can. “I fucking love you.”

“I know,” he says, smiling. “I know that. Please, Ed.” He drops onto the bed, crawls back. “Please come and make love to me, right this minute.” This is even more urgent than yesterday, the sudden desperate desire to be connected, fused, to promise with bodies what they struggle to speak with words.

Ed’s already peeling his shirt back off, shoving down his sweatpants—nothing on underneath, bless him—and Stede follows suit impatiently, all but tearing his clothes off. He gets the shirt over his head just as Ed crawls onto the bed, prowling toward him with a raw kind of energy. Ed shoves him down into the pillows and straddles him, their cocks bumping together as Ed steadies himself with his hands splayed out on Stede’s belly.

“How do you want me?”

“I want you to fuck me,” he says, so much easier now than it was two weeks ago. “I want you so deep inside me that I feel you for a week.”

Ed lets out a strangled noise, and pivots to lean over and yank out the bedside table drawer, so impatiently that the whole thing crashes to the ground. He sits up triumphant, holding the bottle. “Got it.”

Stede grips his thighs as he laughs. “Smooth.”

“That’s me.” He’s shuffling off Stede’s hips a second later, pushing his thighs apart, flipping the cap impatiently open and slathering his fingers with glistening lube. “You okay if this goes fast?”

“I’d be disappointed if it didn’t.” He wriggles his hips, spreads his legs wider, offers better access, and Ed just stares down at him and laughs softly.

“You are fucking insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you’d better believe it.”

Thankfully Ed opts not to tease him about it, reaching down and pressing two fingers in right away. “Look at that, you’re so well fucked that I just slip right in there.”

Stede manages to bite back a moan, concentrating on the slide of Ed’s fingers inside him, firm and insistent. “Christ, I want you to fuck me every day, Ed. I could stay in your bed like this all open, just waiting for you to come back and go again.”

Ed’s fingers twitch inside him, his face a wreck. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“Aotearoa New Zealand, “ he says cheerfully. “You might’ve heard of it?”

“Might—" He twists a little, pushes a third finger in, drives straight for the spot that makes Stede yelp. “I’ve heard all about it, yeah.”

He pulls his fingers out, wipes them off, slicks a new lot of lube over his cock, and without preamble gets himself in position and pushes himself into Stede with a long, deep glide that punches the breath out of him.

They’re laughing still, they’re pressed together, but as Ed’s cock lodges deep inside him and Stede breathes through it, Ed drops his forehead onto Stede’s and everything shifts. Suddenly serious, suddenly intense as the smile falters on Ed’s lips, and a moment later he ducks in and kisses Stede.

He’s bent almost in half, knees hooked up over Ed’s elbows, and Ed just holds there, and holds, breathing. Stede lets his hand wander up and into Ed’s hair, stroking there.

“Are we good?” Ed asks. “You’re okay, about everything?”

“I am,” Stede tells him, a vow. “I love you.”

Ed responds with another kiss, and then he starts to move. Rocking into Stede at first in minute little presses, but he gradually starts to build momentum. Somewhere along the way they both stop talking, the only sound in the room the harsh rasp of their shared breath as Ed fucks into him, deeper each time. Stede’s cock thumps against his belly with every thrust, and he rapidly loses the ability to think straight.

He doesn’t want to think, actually. He just wants to stare into Ed’s eyes, to meet the intensity there with his own. To feel swept away by the fierce determination that Ed’s putting into every thrust, to feel the muscles in his arms bunching under Stede’s legs, the soft friction of their bellies together, the inhale they take at the same time.

“I trust you,” he whispers, and Ed whimpers a little against his mouth before he’s kissing Stede again.

It’s hard to tell where Ed’s body ends and Stede’s begins, and it doesn’t matter after a while. They’re grinding themselves into each other, merging, together, and he feels his own orgasm begin in Ed’s body, with the sharper breaths he’s taking and the shake in his muscles and the speeding of his strokes an inevitable match for Stede’s own peak. Stede gets a hand between them, barely enough room to grasp his cock, and as Ed lets out a strangled cry and pulses into him, Stede lets go, and they’re free-falling together.

Tumbling down the cliff-face, plunging deep, letting gravity take them.

He comes down from the white-hot pleasure of it all to Ed plastered over him, both of them sticky with come and cooling sweat, heaving in the next breath and the next.

For a long time neither of them speaks, and then Ed, forehead pressed to his, says, “I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”

“Never,” he whispers. “Never, Ed.”

Didn’t they start yesterday writing about Tāne and his fantastical tentacles? The imagined embodiment of the things Rupert hadn’t known about him, and the way Rupert accepted them immediately, fell for them just as hard, loved Tāne in every iteration, is simply a reflection of how Stede feels for Ed.

He’s barely been able to get his head around it all, the sheer reality of what he’s learned today. “How do you… how do you know how to blow things up?”

Ed’s shoulders shake with laughter. “I don’t know how to do jack shit with all of that.”

The question’s been swirling in his head with increasing intensity, because he understands that it was obvious, in hindsight. “So Izzy’s accident. The leg.”

Ed sighs. “Couple of years before that, big mining project fucking up a cultural site, so we went to fuck up their vehicles. Charge went off early. Faulty detonator, not his fault, not mine. He would’ve been fine, but he caught shrapnel, and—“

“And it had to be amputated.” Losing that leg had never stopped Izzy from pursuing precisely the same career as the rest of them; he wears a bladed prosthetic that probably lets him run faster than Stede can. But it’s clearer now how all of that anger built from chaos into bitterness, how Ed declined to let it go even after that accident, and how it prompted Izzy to move elsewhere.

“The dam. That was his final straw.”

Ed nods against his shoulder, quiet. "And I stopped." But then Izzy had left anyway, opening up the position for a botanist at the company, and Stede had arrived. Ready and willing to meet and match Ed’s mayhem.

“You really are like Tāne,” Stede breathes. “You have been all along.”

Ed shrugs. “Dunno, I haven’t exactly had to fight off a corporation.”

“Neither had he, for the first season or two.” It’s all coalescing so rapidly that Stede doesn’t quite know what to do with the information, because it's not the information he'd expected to have. But maybe it does complete the picture, somehow. “And now perhaps we’ll find ourselves in the same boat.”

The most illegal thing Stede’s ever done in his life is pinch stationery from the work cupboard to use at home. He’s parked without paying for a ticket once or twice, when he’s been in a rush. He’s utilised Mary’s login for a streaming service for the last couple of years, even when the kids aren’t with him.

He is… nothing, compared to Ed. But he can learn.

“How can I help?” he asks, stroking Ed’s cheek. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“We won’t know til we find out what we’re fighting. And then we can work out a plan from there, yeah? Figure out the steps going forward. It’s like an ecological report in the end, just… a little more off the books.”

It’s not only the work that needs a forward path. There’s nothing Stede would rather do right now than cling to Ed, touch his bare skin, kiss him until they both forget the rest of the world. But… “I think we should take tomorrow off.”

Ed searches his face. “Okay. Yeah, good to have a break—“

“I mean off the sex. Give each other some breathing room.”

Ed’s brows come together. “You need breathing room? From… me?”

“Each other,” he repeats. “I want to give you that, too.”

Ed shakes his head, fingers worrying a little circle on Stede’s elbow. “I don’t need breathing room. Do you?”

“A little bit, while I get my head around this.” He’s trying for honesty, and it’s… it’s not easy, actually. He can see Ed’s face falling. “Ed. I don’t have any doubts here. There are not multiple options or answers that I’m deciding between. I want you, all of you, exactly as you come. I will do anything you do.” He genuinely means that. “But this is a lot. I think we could do with… talking more.”

“Okay. Yeah, sure. Let’s do that.”

It keeps getting worse from there; unfortunately the vibe continues to deteriorate.

Dinner is awkward. No writing gets done. They get ready for bed, and climb in on opposite sides, and lie there in the dark facing opposite ways. Stede scrolls through his phone, surfing the vibes a bit; he supposes that not understanding what was happening in every social setting as a teen set him up for this, watching the way things unfold and trying to parse them from a distance, reading the lie of the land to be sure he knows where he stands.

Thankfully the mood is different across the fandom this week, after two relatively happy episodes without too much more complication. There’s a joyful amount of work pouring out as people process in art and writing, and a sense of relief.

Perhaps he’s felt it one too many times before, perhaps it’s all of this flowing back into his experience of the show, but Stede is suddenly more anxious than ever about what’s coming for Rupert and Tāne, and the discordance of that is bothering him.

Ed’s breathing has evened out, heavy on the other side of the bed, and Stede flips over to his messages, does what he really needs to do as soon as possible. No delays.

S: You know how you told me to be brave and take the chance?

There’s nothing for a minute, and then Mary’s dots dance on the screen.

M: Tell me you fucking said something.

S: I did. I actually told him outright.

M: That you LOVE HIM?

S: The very same.

M: Fuck YES, Stede!

Oh shit wait, did it go okay?

S: It did. He said it back.

M: He LOVES YOU??

S: I think so.

M: Okay, don’t take out a fucking billboard or anything??

S: Ha. No, it’s just… complicated.

M: Life’s complicated. You’ll be all right.

S: I hope so.

Can you tell the kids that Ed’s my boyfriend now?

M: BOYFRIENDS?

S: Am I detecting a little echo?

M: Sure, sure, I’ll tell them, don’t worry.

S: Good. I just… I want to be able to talk about it. About us.

Didn't want you to hear it on the grapevine.

M: I’m so fucking happy for you. You deserve this.

S: Thank you. Kiss everyone goodnight for me.

He sets the phone down, plunging the room into full darkness, and rolls back toward Ed, startled to find Ed staring at him from the other pillow.

“Hey.”

He presses a hand to his heart, pulse still jumping. “God. Hello.”

It’s dark as hell in this room, but he can make out the lines of Ed’s face, see his eyes glistening. “So, uh. I know you said you want a break—“

“I didn't say that. I don’t want a break.”

“Okay.” Ed doesn’t sound convinced. “I just. I wondered if. You think we could still… cuddle?”

His heart squeezes. “Ed. Darling. Please come here.” He opens his arms, invites Ed into them, and Ed’s wriggling over a moment later, wrapping himself around Stede very thoroughly. Right where he belongs, and in the same moment, they both let out a breath that feels very much like a collective sigh of relief. “I love you,” Stede murmurs, into his hair. “We’re going to be fine.”

“Good,” Ed murmurs, but his voice is already slurring, and his arms are going slack around Stede’s waist. Just like that, wrapped up in Stede, it’s been enough for him to relax and drop off.

Stede shoves down the sense of foreboding and pulls his boyfriend closer, holding him as tightly as he can.

It’s a long, long time before he gets to sleep himself.

Chapter Text

Ed wakes up cold, feeling… wrong. He slaps out an arm, so fucking used to meeting Stede on the other side of the bed, but Stede’s not there, and he pushes himself up on his elbow and shoves his sleep-tangled hair out of his eyes.

Gives himself a minute to get his thoughts together, to stop spiralling and breathe, and as soon as he does, he smells the coffee. Hears the quiet clink of dishes in the other room, and the relief is so huge that he sinks back into the pillows and lets the air whoosh out of his lungs.

Yesterday was not his favourite day. They’d talked, yeah, and they’d worked, and they’d read a bunch of new interviews about the costume design and the practical effects and the music, since the actors still can’t talk. They’d cuddled on the couch and they’d gone to sleep wrapped up in each other. But there’s still a weird kind of brittle tension going on since Stede found out all of Ed’s shit, and it only got worse when Izzy messaged back to say yeah, he’d come out, and they had a lot to talk about.

No shit.

He scrubs both hands over his face and stares up at the ceiling. So all right, Stede opted out of doing anything yesterday, given that they’d done all three prompts on one day. Maybe he won’t want to pick it up again today with the next prompts, and that’s all right. Maybe he’s about to decide he’s had enough of this whole thing, of Ed.

But no, he stops that thought right there. That’s just catastrophising, and it’s valid, yeah, but it’s unnecessary.

Stede deserves more trust than that, and he deserves someone who’s willing to give him space when he needs it. Ed’s that guy, he’s bound and fucking determined. The cooking noises are ramping up out there, clanks and bangs with the occasional low curse, and Ed hops up and goes to the ensuite bathroom, then comes back, figuring he’d better not ruin the surprise, if there is one. He’s going to look like a tool if he stays in here until Stede finishes his own breakfast and then has to slink out all late and useless, but hey. It’s Saturday. And fuck knows they do actually need the break.

He slides back under the covers into the pocket of warmth that’s still lingering there, and pulls his laptop over from the bedside table. Opens it up, surfs a little, bobbing right over the ebb and flow of the fandom waves. His between episodes fic is doing numbers, and there are lots of lovely comments; he used to make a point of replying to every one, but in recent times his brain has been so overloaded that it’s a miracle he gets any writing done at all let alone replying, and that’s been the thing to slide. He tries not to feel guilty about it, hopes his readers know that every word they put down about their feelings for the story makes his fucking day. It’s become a thing he does when the cortisol is fizzing through his blood and the serotonin is low, going back through and reading every thought.

Stede still replies to every single person, so at least one of them is going to hold the ball on that one when they collaborate.

Ed ducks out of AO3 and opens up the Scrivener project, finding a few new updates from Stede. Some notes, some suggestions, some bullet-pointed plotting for the next bit he’s planning. And then he stops short over a new section of prose that wasn’t there yesterday.

It comes right after Rupert’s asked Tāne to take it slow. That happens in canon, but it’s Tāne asking in the actual show, and the flip of it makes something ache in Ed’s ribs.

Until he actually reads it.

“Slow means… you want to stop?” Tāne sounds so uncertain that Rupert has to reach out and grab his hands.

“No. No. I never want to stop.” He stares earnestly into his lover’s eyes, hoping above all else that Tāne will see the truth of his words there. “Never, do you understand? This is just a pause. A slowing of the frame rate, even. Because… because…”

The right words don’t come easily, but Tāne is patient, and he waits, while Rupert struggles with himself. At last, he manages to open his mouth and speak. “Because you deserve time, Tāne. You don’t deserve anger or worry, you’ve done nothing to deserve those—“

“I have destroyed any number of British carriages—“

“Fuck the British!” Rupert shouts, fiercely. “Fuck them. They deserve it.”

Tāne blinks at the force of it, but his mouth twitches with a smile, and oh, it’s a relief to see. Rupert only wants his happiness, his comfort, his genuine belief that he is loved, he is loveable, he is worthy of every bit of reverence Rupert feels for him.

He pulls Tāne down to sit beside him on the chaise, and stares into his lovely eyes. “You deserve slow, Tāne. Let me show you that.”

And that’s where it ends, presumably so that Stede could go burn whatever he’s burning in the kitchen, and Ed lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. These fic-letters-in-a-bottle between the two of them are doing more than they fucking should, but god, they’ve always been talking to each other through their fiction, haven’t they? It’s been years now and every word he’s written has been a message to Stede, telling him what he wants, how he feels. Now he knows it’s been the same in return, he can’t unsee that. Every time Rupert’s fallen head over heels for Tāne, every moment they’ve spent together, it’s all been wishing and hoping and wanting, and here they are, getting it.

Throughout all of it, they’ve known all the truths about each other, spoken or not. And this one’s pretty clear, Ed thinks. This is Stede giving his reasons, explaining himself. Offering something important: a redefinition. And Ed sees it, and Ed knows exactly how to answer.

He pulls the laptop onto his legs and flexes his fingers.

Tāne stares back at the guy. This fucking maniac who sees what he is, what he does, and just fucking… wants it, no fear. Nobody’s ever looked at him like that before. Nobody’s ever cared enough about him that they want him for the soft and the hard, for everything he is and everything he’s not.

“Show me,” he whispers, with a nod. “Show me slow.”

It’s slow, fuck yeah it is. But it’s slow like geological time, eternal and constant and inevitable. Mountains crumble and continents shift. Rupert’s hands slip inside his clothes and peel them away, the incremental process of a river carving out a canyon over millions of years. His mouth finds Tāne’s, desperate, open and gasping, but magma hot and languid.

And when they’ve whiled away aeons of touch and taste, when they’ve worn down all their barriers and Rupert finally lines himself up and pushes inside him, they both hold their breath as their eyes meet, and time slides to a complete halt.

“Ed?” The door eases open with a creak, and Ed looks up over the top of the screen, wrenched out of the slow and determined fuck Tāne was about to have on his behalf. Stede’s standing there holding—not a tray.

“Is that a chopping board?”

Stede shrugs a little. “It does the job.” He lifts it a little. “I thought you might like breakfast in bed.”

“Oh.” Oh, that does something to him, hooks right under his belly button, and he lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Stede looks relieved. He also looks fucking gorgeous this morning, a little ruffled, a little sweaty, wearing his running shorts and a white tee that just makes his chest and arms stand out even more than they usually do. Ed snaps the computer closed and shuffles over a bit, making room, and Stede comes over and sits down.

“I just… put together a few things. And then I had to take a few of them off, because—“ He waves a hand to encompass the slight hint of smoke that’s drifting in from outside.

“I love that,” Ed says. Really means it, even the burning shit bit, because Stede’s really trying stuff he’s no fucking good at, just for Ed. He can’t remember the last time anyone made him breakfast. He’s not sure he’s ever had breakfast in bed brought to him by the extremely hot guy he’s fucking, literally ever. Winning at life over here, almost. “What’d you make?”

“Ah, well!” He nudges the plate toward Ed. “There’s toast.”

“It’s very, uh, well done.” There’s a hint of charcoal at the edges, actually, and it’s probably only Stede who could fuck up toast to that level. Ed would eat a thousand pieces of it. “And marmalade?”

“Your favourite.”

It’s in a fancy little pot and everything. Stede remembered, and something about that increases the warmth Ed’s feeling another five times. That day they spent last summer on a vineyard tour, stopping in at all the little orchards and artisan cheesemakers along the way, where they’d tried a marmalade at an orange grove and Ed had made such an obscene noise that Stede’s cheeks had gone pink. Come to think of it, it hadn’t been long after that day that Stede had come out as gay. And now, now, Ed knows exactly what Stede’s about, and he raises a brow.

“What? We all deserve fine things.” He nudges the tray again. “There’s also fruit, just the ones you like.”

None of the apples that Ed still eats because stupid fucking health, complaining the whole time. Just fat berries and slices of orange and bite-sized bits of watermelon. Couple of sausages, hash browns, and a bit of bacon on the well and truly crispy side. A little jar full of meadow flowers that Stede must have gone out and picked, all bursting bright orange and yellow, what the hell. He looks up, bewildered. “Where the fuck did this all come from?”

Stede can’t hold back a smug grin. “Just got a food delivery this morning!”

“Out here?”

“You can get anything anywhere for the right price.”

Sometimes Ed forgets that Stede has stupid money from his trust fund, mainly because Stede hates the fact that he does. He’d rather sit on it all and sink it into the kids’ college education one day than treat himself to anything, donate eye-watering amounts to environmental causes, but he does like his fancy clothes, and his new bachelor apartment’s fucking mental, in all the right ways. Full of fine fabrics and the world’s comfiest armchairs and artworks and trinkets and cool shit that Ed can’t get enough of, and hey, maybe after all this he’s going to get to see a lot more of it.

That lingering worry is easing in his chest, especially when he looks up and meets Stede’s eye. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Anything for you,” he says. “I suppose I just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

He sighs, slides sideways, ends up with an elbow in the pillows, and Ed grabs for the two cups of coffee to stop them tilting in Stede’s failed attempt at smoothness, as he struggles his way back out and sits straight again, brushing his curls off his forehead. “For being patient with me. For waiting it out while I got my head around everything.”

All of a sudden Ed’s heartbeat is thumping in his ears a little as he stares at Stede and Stede stares back at him, giving him that look, all heated and sultry, the meaning just as clear as it was in the story. Ed clears his throat. “You ready to unpause?”

There’s not even a moment of hesitation before Stede nods decisively. “We’ve got a prompt list to get on with, after all.”

Fuck the prompt list, actually. Ed’s all of three seconds away from swiping the breakfast tray to the floor and throwing Stede down on the bed to suck his cock about it. But he’s a man of great patience, everyone knows that’s definitely up there with his most obvious character traits, or maybe not. Still, he manages to rearrange his expression out of probably like, I’m about to fucking eat you, to something more like polite culture, ho, and says, “What’s today?”

“Ah, I thought you might ask!” Stede’s lips tilt upward in a little grin. “Beach sex, which is very convenient, because we happen to have our own private beach.”

“We’re doing that,” Ed says, controlling the urge his arms and legs seem to be having to get out of the bed and bolt for the truck right this fucking second. “What else?”

“Biting?” Stede says, and winces a little. “We can leave that one.”

“Or,” Ed counters, “you can bite me wherever the fuck you want.”

Stede’s brows go sky high. “Can I?”

“Not like, cannibalism, mate, you’ve gotta have some restraint in tasting a man’s flesh.” He grins. “Everything else, I’m down.”

“Okay,” he says, and then he lets out a shaky little laugh. “Wow.”

Ed nods to the tray. “Breakfast first. And then—“

And then, he’d been about to say, they can get in the truck and drive down to the beach and fuck however they decide to, for hours, because it’s Saturday.

It’s Saturday. Fuck.

“Ed? What’s wrong?”

He looks up again, pained. “Izzy’s going to be here soon.”

“Ah. Right. Yes. Best get that underway.” Stede nods, and then he picks up his plate, and offers Ed the same. “Breakfast first. And then we’ll go and face the day.”

And the past, and the future, and the way all of it ends up wrapped together, no matter how hard you try to leave one part behind. If there’s anything Ed’s learned from this season of Tree Change, it’s that. And hey, maybe that is something he’s already taken on board, without even realising it.

Only trouble is, it’s harder in person.

~

It’s half an hour later that they’ve driven out to the mountain. Stede’s fidgeting nervously in his seat, and he can’t quite help it. He’s met Izzy a few times at various events, and Izzy’s always treated him with utter disdain, even before Stede met Ed. But maybe he’s just one of those people who’s prickly up front, and much softer once you get to know him. The truck hits a bump and he tries to refocus, because the thing is, Izzy is not his rival. He’s someone who meant something to Ed in the past, and then that relationship came to an end, and now it’s different.

And Ed hadn’t known Stede then, so… that’s different, too.

He risks a glance at Ed, but he’s concentrating on the track, sunglasses pulled over his eyes. They’d eaten breakfast this morning, and then they’d fussed around getting ready, in the same room today, unlike yesterday, when everything felt brittle. He’d tried very hard not to stare as Ed pulled off his clothes and pulled on new ones, but god, this has truly turned into an addiction, hasn’t it? One day without being able to touch Ed the way he wants to has driven him quite close to insane, and the only thing he could do about it was write it into the fic this morning.

He’d seen Ed with the laptop open, been sure that he’d read it. Heard the keys clicking from the other room, knew Ed had added something. And he’d intended to be patient about it, he really had, but when Ed went to brush his teeth after breakfast, Stede had bolted out and opened up his own laptop, and he’d all but gulped Ed’s new words in one heady rush. Slapped the computer closed and stood up just as Ed emerged from the bedroom, hair tied up in a loose bun today, lovely as ever.

Show me slow.

They’d paused there, watching each other. Unspoken things hovering in the air between them, but not so much the stinging wasps of yesterday, more… fireflies, fluttering in Ed’s smile.

Ed sees him. Ed wants him. And there is no imaginable reason for them to stop their forward rush here. No, all that’s really left is for Stede to show just how entirely ready he is to be part of Ed’s life, no matter what that looks like.

Out here side by side, facing someone who’s been part of the hardest years of it before. And then, doing whatever they need to do to fix this situation.

“Was there a reason you asked to meet him by the mountain?” he asks, the thought having occurred to him rather suddenly. “Everyone else has come to the house.”

“Closer for the equipment.” Ed’s lips quirk into a little smile. “And, uh. Didn’t want him at the house.”

“No?”

“No. That’s ours.” He throws Stede a little glance; Stede catches his own reflection in Ed’s sunglasses, brows drawn together in a frown. “I mean, it’s not ours, but whatever. It’s ours. Don’t want him fucking up the energy or whatever.”

That’s quite a way to think about Izzy, and he knows that he’s out of his depth with all that history. But he can feel his lips twitching at the thought of Ed engineering this so that nothing can burst the lovely little bubble they’ve created for themselves, because it’s silly, sort of. The cabin is not theirs. But he knows what Ed means, too. Despite the trials of the last couple of days, there’s a warmth to it now that it’s layered in memory after memory, all the lovely, filthy things they’ve done together.

“I appreciate that,” he says, because it’s true. The thought of Ed being protective like that is… well. He’s not sure he’s ever had anyone look out for him like that before. And now he has that.

“To the canopy and beyond,” Ed says, reaching out with his closed fist. “You and me.”

Stede bumps it, and they both laugh. He feels ready, all of a sudden, when he didn’t before.

He feels less ready when they pull up at the base of the mountain, and he climbs out of the car. Waits for Ed, but Ed waves him off, tells him he’ll catch up, which is… all right, yes. Izzy’s 4WD is remarkably clean for a drive out to this area, and the Hands On Environmental branding on the side is severe.

“Izzy,” Stede says, and makes his way across. He’s all in black, just like Ed, a tight t-shirt and black jeans, and he’s wearing normal boots that hide the prosthetic. If Stede didn’t know, he wouldn’t know at all. “Good to see you.”

Izzy shakes his hand with an expression that says it’s anything but. “Best get on with it, yeah?”

“Ed’ll be out in a minute.” He assumes. They both stare back at the car. “No Jack today, then?”

Izzy scoffs. “Wouldn’t let him within a hundred miles of Ed after last time.”

Stede decides not to ask Izzy about that; he’d rather hear it from Ed. He’d also rather Ed had the choice, but that’s a topic for another day. “I suppose we’ll have to toss a coin for who goes down the mountain, then.”

Izzy gives him a hard stare. “It’s all remote these days. Camera on the end of a cable, no need to risk anyone’s life for something that might be a wild goose chase.”

He opens his mouth to reply to that, but closes it just as fast. “Right.”

He and Izzy have only met a handful of times at professional events, given that they’re in the same field, but they came up through different systems, Izzy in the UK, Stede in New Zealand, and so they don’t have the history others might in this industry. He’s not sure if that would make things better or worse. As it is, he has the sense that Izzy sees Stede as having replaced him, as if he wasn’t the one to quit first. As if the relationship he had with Ed was anything other than strictly professional, bordering on friends, never quite making it there.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Stede says, and means it. “Besides the mountain situation, I could use your advice on the trees.”

Izzy’s brows go up at that. “Can’t figure it out yourself?”

He’s supposed to be annoyed at that, he knows, but he presses it down. “I wouldn’t ask if I could.”

There’s the click of the car door, and then Ed’s swinging it open, climbing out. He shoves his cap on his head, pulling his hair through the back, and looks up at them both. Stede senses the way Izzy stands straighter at his side as Ed strides over.

He gets right up to them, takes off his sunglasses. Stares at Izzy for a second, and Izzy sticks his hand out stiffly. “Edward.”

But Ed leans across and hugs him instead, squeezing him tight, and Izzy’s breath rushes out in as close to a squeak as anyone could manage with a rasp that deep. “Fuckin’ glad you’re here, Iz.” He shoves back and looks him in the eye. “We need you.”

~

Izzy sets the pace the whole way up the mountain, and Stede hangs back a bit, letting he and Ed talk. They’re angled toward each other, and the atmosphere gradually shifts, the higher they climb. Goes from awfully tense down beside the car, to much more relaxed. At one point Ed laughs heartily at a joke Izzy’s made, and Stede lets the relief wash over him.

It’s clear, even though Ed hasn’t said a great deal, how much this has weighed on him over the years. Perhaps he didn’t even realise it himself, but the spectre of Izzy has always been out there, a reminder of things that went wrong.

Maybe together the three of them can make this go right. He’s not naive enough to imagine that’ll fix everything, but it’ll be a step, at least.

They make it to the top after a solid half an hour of hiking, and Stede wordlessly pulls thermoses and sandwiches from his backpack, passes them around. Ed drops to sit beside him on a rock, and a moment later Izzy comes around and sits on his other side. They eat in silence, just the wind rushing around them, the land lying peacefully below.

Eventually, Izzy nods down at the canopy, at the patches of brown amidst the green. “You’ve taken core samples, I assume.”

“I have. Jim’s done some analysis, too. We keep coming up short.”

He nods. “Not sure what you think I can add.”

“A different perspective,” Stede offers. “Sometimes it just helps to have new eyes on an old problem.”

Izzy’s stare feels uncomfortably like he’s wandered into saying something unintentional there, and too late he realises how much it sounded like he was commenting on Izzy’s relationship with Ed.

Before he can clarify, Ed leans around. “Maybe a future job. But first, gotta blow some shit up.”

Stede looks between the two of them, both of them trying not to smile. “Someone needs to show me how to do that.”

Izzy’s brows creep up. “Fancy yourself an eco-pirate, do you?”

“I told you, Iz—“

“He knows, I know, I heard you.” Izzy tips his head back at the rock face. “Let’s take a look.”

It doesn’t seem too complicated in the end. Izzy locates the spaces around the blocked rock face that have enough give to fit a stick of explosive—not the cartoon dynamite Stede had imagined, but something smaller and more powerful.

“Don’t ask where he gets it,” Ed murmurs, leaning against the rock wall behind Stede as Izzy busies himself around the rock face, lacing in stick after stick.

At last, it’s done to his satisfaction, and he steps back. “Now we find a safe spot, and we can detonate it remotely.”

A safe spot constitutes a climb down the other side of the mountain, a little way, until they’ve made it to an area that Izzy judges stable enough to hold them, out of reach of any potential rolling boulders or flying scraps of stone. He pulls a small tablet from his backpack and fires it up, and Stede shakes his head admiringly. “You’ve got it all sussed out, hmm?”

“‘Course I do.” He nods to Ed. “Fire in the hole.”

Ed pulls Stede around and covers his ears, tugging him down behind a grass-covered little tussock. “That means duck.”

He only has time to reach up and put his own hands over Ed’s ears before Izzy sets the thing off, and there’s a tearing boom and a crunch from above that echoes down the mountain side, rolls out into the day, shakes the ground under their feet. It seems to last forever as the dust and smoke rise up into the air—can’t be helped, unfortunately—but eventually it begins to fade, and Stede lets go of Ed and stands again.

Izzy hasn’t moved, just standing there rock solid the whole time, and he nods up the mountain now. “I think you’ll find it’s done the job.”

He’s not wrong, it has. The peak’s very different now, a wide cave opened up near the top, rocks scattered everywhere. Ed peers down into the darkness, pulls out a torch and beams it down. “Goes a long way,” he says.

“It’s a mountain,” Izzy says.

“Obviously,” Stede replies. “So are we going to send down a robot, or?”

“A camera,” Izzy says. “Not everything has to be fancy, Bonnet.”

And it’s a breath-holding moment, when Izzy has it all hooked up to the cable, as he starts to lower it down. Ed makes sure the reel’s releasing smoothly, and Stede watches the screen that’s receiving the images from down below. The dark walls flicker and bump, the shaft narrow. Nothing more than rock formations, the occasional wooden beam from whatever past mining enterprise this was.

“Tin, probably,” Izzy supplies. “Useless way to mine it, but what do I know?”

They all lapse into silence, until the camera clunks to a halt at the bottom of the shaft. It is sort of a robot, or at the very least a remote controlled car, on wheels that can take it around. And around is… not far. In fact, there’s not much more than the circumference of the hole down there.

“Nothing,” Izzy says, sounding frustrated.

“Fuck,” Ed adds. “Thought we’d at least get a big fucking sign that says hey, we’re the bad guys!”

“No signs at all.”

Stede sighs. “I suppose that’s a dead end, then. We’ll have to consider our next move.”

He’d been so certain they were onto something here, that they were just going to find exactly what they were looking for. But it’s never really been Stede’s lot to have it that easy, has it? Why start now.

~

They’re quiet on the drive to the beach, the work of the day all done, Izzy gone, though he’s agreed to come back sometime later in the week to discuss the next moves and the trees.

Right before he pulled away, he’d nodded to Stede to come to the car window for a last word, and it… hadn’t been what he’d expected. No professional advice, no telling him to be careful with Ed, no, he’d been… quite direct, actually.

You need to show him how you feel. He needs that, trust me.

Stede’s been trying, hasn’t he? Talking about everything, when he can. But also treading cautiously, just in case. He’ll never forget Ed’s face the other night when he finally said what he was thinking. He’ll also never forget the hurt on Ed’s face over the last day, when Stede asked for space.

He’s done with space. Exceptionally done with it. He reaches out and slides a hand over Ed’s, where it’s resting on the gearstick, and Ed looks up at him with surprise.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Very. Just thinking about you, like I do most hours of the day.”

The change passes over Ed’s features quickly, surprise, giving way to curiosity. “That’s, uh. That’s lovely.” They’re approaching the beach now, and he shifts the gears down; Stede doesn’t pull his hand away, just rolls from third gear to second with him, and Ed huffs out a laugh. “Been thinking about you like that for three years or so now.”

“Oh, same, same. It’s a miracle we never met up in our dreams.”

Ed’s brows are rising. “You dream about me, huh?”

“Constantly.” It’s true, Ed haunts him day and night. Night’s always been a lot more, well. Active than day, until this month. And this month, oddly enough, Stede’s barely dreamed at all. Every subconscious hope has come true, so it seems. All his dreams are coming true.

“Here we are,” Ed says, as he pulls the truck to a stop at the edge of the dunes. He switches off the ignition, pivots a bit. “You okay with Iz? He can be a bit of a nightmare sometimes.”

“Intense. Very intense.” Stede laughs. “I actually had a good day with him, you know. He imparted a bit of wisdom on me, too.”

“Glad to hear it.” Ed looks a little sceptical. “And that was—“

He slides his hand from Ed’s, up his arm to caress his shoulder. “He just reminded me that I need to say things out loud. About what I want.” He takes a deep breath. “And what I want is… you. All the time, everywhere. Here.”

“On the beach.” Ed’s eyes are soft and fond. “You sure about that?”

“I came prepared,” he says, and he doesn’t give Ed a chance to ask the five questions that immediately dart onto his face. Just swings the door open and climbs out, and goes around the back for the necessary supplies.

They’re out on the sand five minutes later, standing between the water and the dunes, near the edge of the wet sand, where the tide’s been slowly creeping back in for the evening. It’s a warm day, and the breeze is light. The sand’s a good dense yellow, not like the fine stinging white sand he knows from other places, not the sort of stuff that migrates everywhere instantly. But he’s prepared just in case.

“Hold whatever thoughts you’re having,” he tells Ed, and then he gets to work.

“Fucking mental,” Ed wheezes when he’s done. He’s built a sort of towel blanket fort on the sand, four separate ones laid out in an overlapping rectangle, so that any sand creeping in from the edges will avoid them, sitting right in the middle.

They’ve still got to get from here to there, but he gives a satisfied nod. “I think it’ll do the trick.”

They test that out by easing out of their boots at the edge, stepping straight from the footwear onto the towels. It’s working, all right. There’s not too much give under them, and they’re standing in the middle of it in short order. Ed reaches for his hand and squeezes. “You good?”

“I’m good. I’m wonderful.” They’re face to face, washed in the warm light of the sunset, and Stede takes a moment to just look at him. Ed, his Ed, the most beautiful person he’s ever known in his life. Holding his hands, looking content, and peaceful. “Did that help, do you think? Seeing him again?”

He doesn’t need to specify what he means. Ed nods. “Think so, yeah. Lot of of old hurts under the surface, you know? But they hurt a little less now. Got to talk about a few things we’d never discussed, and… yeah. Feels better.”

“I’m so glad.” He takes Ed’s other hand, and they sway there in the late afternoon light, as if they’re getting married at some little floral altar beside the sea. “I think most hurts are like that in the end. They just need… time.”

Ed searches his face, understanding. “Yeah?”

“And sometimes you know how much time’s passed, and sometimes it sneaks up on you quietly, I suppose.” He presses in closer, determined to maintain the intentions. “I love you, Ed. I love being near you. It’s good. Feels nice.” He smiles, and Ed smiles back. “Breathing the same air—“

He doesn’t get to finish before Ed’s hands slide up into his hair, and Ed’s pulling him the rest of the way in and kissing him. Soft and slow and molten and lovely, tripping a flow of lava through his veins, consuming him. Ed pulls back with a shaky little breath, and his eyes are huge. “Missed that.”

“Me too.” He nods to the blanket. “I think—" No, that’s not the spirit at all. He takes a step back, puts his hands on his hips, and drops his voice to a soft commanding tone. “Take off your clothes, please. And then sit down on the towel.”

“Yes, sir,” Ed says, and it thoroughly melts Stede’s brain, the way he’s started to use that regularly. He obeys, stripping off his t-shirt and dropping it onto the towel island, and then he shimmies out of his jeans and his underwear and kicks those aside, too. Puts both hands out, this is me. “Naked.”

Very much so, miles of gorgeous skin, his cock already standing proud. He drops to sit, and Stede catches his breath, finding himself standing there between Ed’s legs. “Very good.” He peels off his own shirt, and then he shoves down his own trousers, no patience left.

Ed’s hands come out to steady him as he kicks off the last bit, and then he’s standing over Ed with his cock out, on the beach, and Ed’s just… waiting for him. For his instruction, to do whatever Stede wants, with so much desire shining in his eyes.

Right. He came here with very specific intentions. “Can you help me with this?” He turns to face the ocean, the waves rolling in onto the shore, the horizon gleaming gold with the setting sun. There are shreds of clouds floating over, seabirds hovering on the breeze, and it’s as if the whole world belongs to them alone.

Ed slides a hand up the back of his leg, a slow, soft touch that ruffles the hairs and sends goosebumps skittering up over his skin, until his fingers slide between Stede’s cheeks and stop.

“Oh.”

“Thought I’d better minimise the preparation.” He glances back over his shoulder, and Ed’s eyes have gone even darker, if that’s even possible.

He traces the end of the plug and taps it, sending a jolt through Stede’s body. “Had that in all day, huh? If Izzy knew—“

“Well, it wouldn’t have been his business,” he says, and he can’t help how snippy it sounds. “But no, I put it in after he left. It’s your business.”

“Fucking is, yeah.” He tugs the plug a little, until it starts to slide, and Stede can’t help the moan that slips out. It’s a thick one, in there opening him up for this, very well slicked with lube, and he’d pushed it inside himself in the bathroom and watched his own face in the mirror, panting and debauched.

Ed gets it the rest of the way out, and tosses it aside. And Stede’s about to turn, but Ed just pushes his cheeks wider, slips the pads of his two thumbs inside Stede’s hole. “Aching for me, aren’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” He turns, finds Ed staring up at him in absolute worship, and the only thing for that is to drop to his knees and crawl onto Ed’s lap. Like this, he’s got the slight height advantage, even as he shuffles forward, catching their stiff cocks between their bodies as he throws his arms around Ed’s neck and kisses him thoroughly.

He’s a wave, consuming the shore, crashing their tongues together as he pours the last day’s frustration and desperation into the kiss. And suddenly all restraint is gone, and he can’t wait any longer. He lifts himself up, reaches down for Ed’s cock, and busies himself lining it up. At the last moment Ed catches his hips.

“Hey. Hey. You definitely okay?”

A pause, consent. Stede takes a breath. “I need you. I’m good. Are you?”

He nods. “Yeah. I’m all in, mate. All fucking in.”

“Good,” he breathes, and at last he manages to find the right spot, pressing down onto Ed until his cock pops past the rim, and then it’s an easy slide down, until Stede’s all the way seated and breathing heavily. “Fuck,” he manages to get out. “Fuck, I feel you so deep like this.” Split open and filled, god, there’s nothing like this.

Ed’s arms have come around his waist, solid, pressing them together so that their chests rub close. “Incredible. You are—yeah.” He shifts his hips slightly, and his length shifts inside Stede, and he groans. “Fuck, Stede.”

“The plan, yes.” He bends down and kisses Ed again, rocking against him, every little shift a perfect sensation. “Look at you.”

Ed huffs out a laugh. “I hear you.” The phrase for today. “Look at you. You’re like a fucking mermaid or something, all gold and shiny. Came out of the ocean horny.”

“Did I?” Stede’s too breathless to laugh as Ed sets a rhythm, fucking into him gently. “Lucky there was a willing prince on the beach.” They’re both gilded and glowing in the last light, and yes, he feels regal like this, his arms looped around Ed’s neck, Ed’s hair flowing over his shoulders. “Don’t know what we do about the anatomy.”

“Feels like it’s working just fine,” Ed says, and punctuates that with another thrust. “Guess you grew some legs. But, uh. I hear mermaids are kinda carnivorous.”

Stede stares at him for a good five seconds, not a clue what he means as Ed rolls his hips and fucks him steadily, and then it clicks. “Oh. Oh! The biting.”

“The biting, yeah.”

“Well! It’s definitely been a mermaid day of… swimming about and… collecting trinkets, or whatever.”

“Fucking love a good trinket.”

“I know you do.” He kisses Ed about it for a minute, and at the end, takes his bottom lip in his teeth, and lets them scrape over it as he slowly releases. Ed’s eyes are dark pools now, his breath coming short. “Shall I bite you, darling?”

“Please,” Ed says, desperate, and Stede can’t deny him anything.

He leans into Ed’s throat and sucks gently against the skin there, letting his teeth dig in as he does, and when he pulls away Ed’s fully panting, his thrusts now erratic, a deep bruise coming up.

“More?” Ed just nods, and Stede grinds down onto him, holding him still when he starts to thrust again. “Let me?”

Ed goes still, puts his hands behind him for support, and Stede gets properly on his knees to ride him. Does that slowly at first, finding his own rhythm as he rocks on Ed’s cock, and then when he’s got a bit more confidence, pulling back enough to thrust down onto him, making Ed gasp. Once he’s got that rhythm set, he goes back to work on Ed’s neck, nipping and nibbling, until it almost feels like he’s devouring Ed.

And he can feel Ed falling apart in his arms, the way his moans are picking up in tempo, the way his hips are making sharp little lifts with each roll of Stede’s hips. His own cock is hard and leaking between them, and one glance down at it catches Ed’s heavy-lidded gaze. He reaches in there and takes hold of it, stroking Stede in time with his thrusts, and it has him on the edge in seconds.

And that’s when the wave hits, a sudden rush of incredibly cold water whooshing up from behind him, the wave dashing past them and over the towels, and Stede lets out a shriek as he clings to Ed’s neck.

Ed’s got his head thrown back, laughing, as the water recedes. “Fuckin’ didn’t plan on the tide, did we?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Stede yells back over his shoulder at the retreating wave. His arse is wet. Ed’s hand has sand up to his forearm where it’s resting against the soaked towels. Their clothes are scattered around, all soaked, and Stede’s about to cry with frustration.

But Ed sits up straight again and locks Stede in against him, nudges him til he swings his legs around to sit cross-legged on his cock, ankles hooked behind Ed’s arse. Ed’s gaze is clear, the brown of his eyes glinting in the last light. “Fuck me through it, Stede. Dare you.”

God. He can only comply, rocking his hips again, picking up the rhythm. When the next wave rolls up it stops shorter, only tickles at Ed’s legs, but Ed keeps grinding up into him all the same. “Don’t stop. Not for anything.”

And oh, when the next one swirls around them again, it’s not as cold as last time, since their skin’s already cooled now. Salt water flicks up into his mouth, and Ed’s lips are crashing in a second later to kiss it away. The rhythm picks up, Ed fucking harder into him, until it feels like they’re part of this as the foam curls around them.

“I’m close,” Ed gasps into his mouth. “I’m—“

Stede grinds down onto him as the next wave overtakes them, and it’s a glorious mix of sensation, Ed pulsing deep and hot inside him, the sea running smooth, cold fingers down his legs. Ed hasn’t even finished jerking inside when he fists Stede’s ocean-wet cock again and starts to pull him off steadily. Fist in Stede’s hair again, tipping his mouth down to kiss him, and it’s only a moment before the rush of his climax washes through him, and he’s coming hard over Ed’s fingers, as another wave rushes in and floods them with coolness.

It’s a few moments more before he starts to laugh, and then Ed’s laughing too, and they’re slumped together as the evening tide dances around them.

“Fuck,” Ed wheezes in the end. “Think we might have lost a towel there.”

The reality’s always less delightful than the fantasy, and in a moment they’re up and dashing around, gathering up utterly sodden towels and clothing. Fortunately Stede had anticipated almost any possibility, so they make it back to the car with teeth chattering, but he has two extra sun-warmed towels to dig out, and a change of clothes. He wraps one towel around Ed, and then Ed slings the other one around Stede, uses it to tow him in and kiss him again.

“That was fucking incredible, mate. Loved it.”

“I’m glad. I loved it, too.”

Ed wraps the towel a little tighter around him, spins him, so that he’s pulled back against Ed’s chest, Ed nipping at his ear. “You’re mine now, mermaid. I found you, I don’t make the rules.”

“Gladly,” Stede gets out. “Far too wet for me under the sea, anyway.”

~

Waking up on Sunday, Ed takes a second to feel the vibe. Stede’s tucked up against him again, breathing easy. They’re back on track. It’s good. They’re good. Everything’s good, and he’s so fucking grateful. Even things with Izzy are feeling calmer, and that’s something he hadn’t expected.

If he’s honest with himself, something about the new season of the show has been quietly working towards that, too. The relationship between Tāne and Keith has always been a little too relatable, but this season it’s been… yeah. Something, to watch it all explode like that. Now they’re right down to the nuts and bolts on the show, both of them having to face all the hurt they’ve caused each other over the years, and he doesn’t know where that’s going to go in the next couple of episodes, tomorrow.

In the last two, they barely said a word to each other, but it didn’t matter, right? Keith had found a completely new kind of belonging with the crew, and that was exactly what he’d held himself back from before, making Tāne his everything, when Tāne didn’t have that to give in return.

Ed had told Stede the other day that he wasn’t ready to think about it, and he hadn’t been, but now Izzy’s been out here, it’s… different.

Because yeah, it was a lot like that for them, too. Izzy was loyal as hell, beyond any reasonable expectation, actually. Izzy was also committed as hell to the whole piracy situation, way more than Ed. Ed had the ideas, Izzy had the logistics to make them happen. Together they were an incredible team, until the darkness started to drag Ed down and he found himself becoming far too melded with it, unable to pull himself up out of it.

He’d stopped, for a while. Izzy had been the one who kept coming, relentless, telling him what they needed to do, that the planet needed him. Pulling him back in time and again, reminding him over and over that nobody but Izzy would ever want him if he was toothless, that his work had no value unless it was having an impact.

And then it had gone too far, and suddenly Izzy had wanted to stop, and Ed was over the edge already, some wounded part of him wanting to prove something to… to who?

To Izzy? Yeah, but… Izzy was never the root cause of all of it, was he? He was just the guy who scaffolded it, kept it going. Hornigold? Maybe, maybe, because his old mentor is far too much like Grayson Maxwell than he’s comfortable acknowledging, a powerful non-profit guy with a background in eco-terrorism that few people know about. Unflinching, uncompromising, cruel; is it any wonder Ed turned out like this?

Like this is fucking nebulous, but it’s got something to do with that fundamental sense of who he is, and that goes all the way back to his dad, to the day he was born.

You’ve made him soft. He remembers the venom of his father’s words, spat at his mother like it was the worst thing you could be in the world. So Ed had made himself hard, yeah, and he’d kept it up even after his dad was long gone. He’d let his rage flow into the world, but he’d at least tried to direct it in a way that targeted the right people, the right reasons.

A righteous rage. Destroying to stop destruction. Avenging, revenging.

And then there had been Stede.

“Ed?” he murmurs now, sleepy. “I can hear you thinking from here.”

Ed laughs, shifts a little, so that they’re face to face and looped together, arms and legs linked, noses pressed close. “Just thinking about life, and time, and purpose and shit.”

Stede’s blinking sleepily, and and he raises a brow, squeezes one eye shut. “Purpose?”

“Purpose.” He nudges Stede’s nose, kisses him softly on the lips. “Bringing good into the world by fighting for what’s right.”

All those years, he’d seen that darkness as something bad, something that made him wrong and unworthy and a problem. When he looks at Stede, the best and most complicated person he knows, it’d be easy to fear that him sliding into this is just going to… taint him with the same. Turn him into what Ed’s been trying so hard not to be.

But instead, it’s casting it in a different light for him. Because if Stede was like that, if it was him blowing shit up and scheming, Ed wouldn’t love him any less. He’d fucking cheer him on, actually. And if they do it together, maybe he can finally cheer himself, too.

Stede’s still looking at him curiously, but there’s nothing but warmth in his stare. “I was thinking.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t get everything we needed in that food delivery. Thought since it’s Sunday, maybe we should take a little road trip. There’s a fab farmer’s market just down the coast.”

Nearest town was maybe an hour away on the drive, but yeah, in the scheme of things that’s kinda close. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Anything does if it’s with Stede. Ed hooks him in and kisses him a little more, and it gradually shifts from tender to heated, neither of them willing to break away. His cock fills rapidly, and he can feel the same’s happening to Stede where they’re all locked together.

“What are today’s prompts?” Stede gets out, and Ed only gives him that much space before he’s kissing him again, fingers sliding through Stede’s curls—how the fuck do they stay so soft?—cradling the back of his head.

“Cockwarming,” Ed says, because he’s checked already, yeah, and then Stede’s kissing him just as heatedly. “Oral. And what a brat.”

Stede laughs between kisses. “Which one of us is the brat?”

Ed narrows his eyes. “Think we both know the answer to that, mate.”

“You, then.”

Ed gives it even more tongue this time, long and languid, before he sighs. “What a brat.”

They’re giggling together for a long time after that. “At the market,” Stede says quite suddenly. “In the car.”

Ed waits for his brain to catch up with this fucking lunatic, and when it does, he’s flooded with sudden tingling need. “Yeah?”

Stede nods seriously. “I want to get on my knees for you, keep you warm. You can find something delicious—“

“I’ll find something delicious.” He’s flipping them over a second later, pinning Stede down on the bed, hair draped over both of them, deliberately letting the soft ends tickle at his nipples. “Too impatient to wait for that.”

He slides down before Stede’s managed to catch his breath, tugs Stede’s underwear down as he goes, not that it was doing much to contain Stede’s incredible boner. He’s never going to get tired of this as long as he lives, and he takes his time building it up, licking along Stede’s length, suckling at the head for a bit, swallowing him down. He takes it slow, just a steady, constant pressure, next nearest thing to doing his own cockwarming, and it builds and it builds, he can feel it through every twitch of Stede’s muscles, winding tighter and tighter until—

“Fuck,” Stede grits out, and then he’s coming down Ed’s throat, and Ed can’t help but smile, even around his stretched lips.

He swallows, pulls off, plants a kiss on Stede’s hip. “You’re on.”

It’s a fucking lovely drive along the coast, sunlight sparkling on the water the whole way, Stede chatting about a fic he just read, Ed filling him in on the latest Twitter chaos. Max has been releasing behind the scenes photos, and they’ve put up a couple of completely new angles of the kiss that show there were definitely more takes involved.

“I can’t understand why people think they’re awkward,” Stede huffs. “They’re doing a wonderful job! It must be tricky when they’ve known each other for so long.”

He’s describing them, and their friendship, the only difference being these guys are in it for a job, not for reality, no matter what some people would like to believe. But they’d come out here to play a role, hadn’t they? Thought they were acting in their own story, and sometimes Ed’s mind still skids over that and has to try to make sense of it all.

This is real.

They pull into the small town soon enough. It’s got maybe a thousand people in it, and it’s like something off a calendar, all picturesque views out over the bay, mountain and forest stretching back behind it, little wooden houses scattered up the slopes. They park at the back end of an adjacent field, tucked under a big old tree, and make their way over to the farmer’s market, which is bustling. Stede’s eyes light up in real time as he glances back at Ed. “Ooh. I bet they’ll have some insane artisan products here.”

Ed loves him so fucking much he can hardly stand it. “Bet they will, mate. Go wild.”

He does, almost skipping between the stalls. Under the colourful awnings there are cheeses and cured meats and pastries, jewel-bright stacks of fruit and vegetables fresh off the trees or out of the ground, jams and sauces and fudge so sweet that it makes Ed’s teeth hurt when Stede feeds him a sample bite. Chocolate and orange flavours burst in his mouth, and he can’t help the moan he lets out.

“What the fuck,” he murmurs, awestruck.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Stede’s beaming. “Bought quite a lot of it, so I hope you’re prepared to help me eat it.”

“Not gonna eat anything else ever again,” Ed assures him, then immediately breaks that promise when they stop by a Filipino food stall with skewers of marinated chicken and pork grilling over coals, the scent pulling him in like the world’s most delicious vortex.

They wander for a good couple of hours, and after they pass a stall with rainbow flags fluttering merrily from the awning, the owner selling crocheted gloves and beanies in a range of pride colours, Stede slips his hand into Ed’s and squeezes. And Ed’s heart does a complicated little flutter, because fuck, he’d never considered that before, but he gets it. This is Stede being out, properly, for the first time ever. And even though it’s friendly here, and even though it’d hardly matter if it wasn’t, because it’s just about the two of them and nobody else’s business, it’s brave.

He squeezes Stede’s hand and tugs him a little closer, and they keep roving until they’ve run out of new things to see. They pause at the end of the row of stalls, where there’s a good view out across the field, a glimpse of the ocean beyond it, the whole thing surrounded by trees and rocky slopes that aren’t too different to the space they’re inhabiting. All these biomes are connected, because there are transitions between them; animals and tree species and bugs and ocean currents in common.

“All these people,” Stede says, and then he pauses. Looks up at Ed. “They deserve a safe environment. And they have it now, easy to see from the vegetation here, but—“

“But whatever’s going on could affect them eventually, yeah.” If it leeches into the groundwater, if it makes it into the sea. If it gets carried through the bugs to the chickens, it’s all an interconnected web. Everything in the world is; they’re just one little part of it, but they’ve got responsibilities to all the other parts. That’s supposed to be the lot of humanity, and here they are collectively fucking up everything instead. As long as Ed lives, he’s never going to understand that.

But then. But then. There’s a group of kids over the other side, all wearing Scout uniforms, and they’re holding a sack and using spikes to pick up trash, offering the bag to passers-by so they’ll throw out their rubbish instead of littering. The food trucks are using biodegradable plates. There’s one with an array of solar panels on the roof. These are home-grown vegetables and fruit that match the seasons, not shipped from some impersonal farming conglomerate, out of season and adding to the carbon footprint.

People care, fucking everywhere. Not just he and Stede, not just the crew, they’re just… they’re in a position to do something about it.

“It’s going to be all right,” Stede says. “We’re going to figure out that source, and then—“

“Then we’re going to take the fight to them,” Ed says decisively. When he turns to Stede, he can see the matching determination on his face. “And we’re gonna fucking win.”

Stede all but shivers at the words, and Ed reaches out and reels him in. “I love it when you talk like that.”

“Like what?” He wiggles his brows, drops his voice low. “Fuck the corporations.”

If he’s not mistaken, Stede lets out an actual sound at that. “Keep going.”

He glances over Stede’s shoulder. The Scouts are gone, but there are still people everywhere. And what he’d like to keep doing is to talk like this until Stede’s so hard that he comes in seconds, the moment Ed gets a hand on him. But also, he’s made a promise to keep Stede’s mouth full while he does that. “Back to the car,” he says softly, tucking a lock of hair behind Stede’s ear. “Now.”

They dash back giggling, holding hands like teenagers. The crowd’s thinned out and there are no other cars parked near them, but Ed still stops for a quick recce—nobody looking—and Stede hisses, “Make like a tree!”, and then they’re both diving into the backseat, laughing so hard they can barely move.

Ed’s crawling over to meet Stede in the middle a second later, hauling him into a messy kiss, but Stede breaks away and slips onto the floor, shoving Ed’s knees determinedly apart. “How long does it have to go for to be considered cockwarming?” He’s running both palms over the flats of Ed’s thighs, and Ed fights to get his breathing under control.

“Dunno, just… not a quickie.” He reaches out to touch Stede’s jaw, runs his fingertips through the weekend bristles. “Not with the primary intent of getting anyone off.”

“Getting you off,” Stede clarifies, like there’s ever going to be anyone else for Ed, ever again. He’s already reaching for Ed’s fasteners, and Ed throws one last glance back toward the market—they’re alone—before he helps out, shuffling his trousers down over his hips, setting his cock free with a hiss of relief.

Stede smirks up at him from the footwell. “Feeling a tad impatient, were we?”

“Maybe.” He leans across and snags Stede’s fancy linen market bag from the seat. “Or maybe I’ve been very patient. Maybe I can be even more patient.”

Stede’s hands are wandering, up to his hips, around to palm the curve of his ass, and he’s breathing over Ed’s cock. “Yeah?”

He digs in the bag until he finds what he’s looking for and holds it up in triumph. “There we are. Been thinking about that fudge since I tasted it. Gonna eat the rest.”

“The rest?” Stede’s brows jump all the way up, and he sounds properly indignant. “Ed, that was for both of us to share.”

Way too cute. Way too easy to rile up. Ed nods to his cock, getting harder by the second with Stede’s fingers starting to circle it. “Got something else you can share.” He waggles his eyebrows for maximum corny teasing.

Stede snorts a little, but he’s shuffling himself up, getting into position a moment later. “Right, then. You carry on breaking an important boyfriend law—it is, don’t give me those eyes—and I’ll just—”

He sinks down onto Ed’s cock a moment later, and Ed has to pause what he’s doing, unwrapping the square of confectionery, as he tries to breathe through it. Stede settles in there, not deep, but he’s got his hand wrapped around the base, and his mouth is warm, and he’s sucking a little, and Ed’s going to lose his whole fucking mind over this, actually. “Christ, look at you.”

He blinks those green-brown-grey whatever the fuck magical colour eyes, and somehow manages to smile a little even with his mouth full of Ed’s cock. And then he closes his eyes blissfully and hums a little, and maybe this won’t last long at all, actually. Ed spends a minute running his fingers through Stede’s hair, which is a work of art from this angle. Curling waves of gold, the sunlight making them fucking shine. He loves Stede’s hair. Might have to extend that list to fit a few new things on it, actually.

Reason number 21, those curls.

Number 22, that fucking mouth.

23, the little moans he’s making as he presses his tongue against the underside of Ed’s cock.

He could go on listing all day. Might be faster to decide what’s not on the list, fuck. But he came here with a purpose, and so he gets his shaky fingers back on the job of unwrapping the fudge. It takes him a bit, but once he’s got it open, he breaks off a quarter and slides it into his mouth, sucking his fingers a little as he pulls them out, watching Stede’s eyes go wide.

“Mmm,” he says, letting it rumble. “Fucking delicious.”

Stede almost subconsciously sucks him down a little harder, making his hips jerk, and when he clocks the movement he gets that gleam in his eye and does it again.

“What a brat,” Ed says fondly, breaking off a second square of fudge. Stede’s eyes dart to the orange-swirled square and back to Ed’s, and Ed can’t help but add his own bratty grin. “Want some?”

Stede narrows his eyes.

“Oh, bro, you’ve already got your mouth full.” He pops the fudge in his mouth and makes an even bigger show of licking each finger. Stede presses in closer and takes Ed deeper, making his breath come short. Challenge accepted, he can see that, and he fucking loves it. He boops Stede’s nose with a fingertip. “If you make me come before I finish the next bit you won’t get any.”

That makes Stede pop off his cock, the air suddenly feeling chill on his skin after it’s been lodged in that heat. Stede wipes the slick of spit off his chin and says, “That doesn’t seem a fair trade.”

“Brat,” he says again, fondly, and reaches out to hook a thumb over Stede’s teeth, pulling his mouth open. And Stede lets him, all obedient and still and fucking gorgeous, and Ed can’t help but lean down and kiss him, licking into his mouth a little, sharing the flavour of the chocolate.

He sits back just as abruptly, watching as Stede chases his mouth with his own, and nods at his lap again. “Slow.”

“Yes, sir,” Stede says, in the most bratty possible way, and yeah, Ed can feel the pieces falling into place on that one, because it works much better the other way around. Dom Stede being his natural state, who would’ve picked that?

Anyone who’s ever met him, probably, and been on the end of his fieldwork coordination, because he’s got ways of doing things, and he likes to be in charge. Ed huffs out another laugh about it as Stede swallows his cock back down, then goes completely still. No sucking, no pressing the tongue, just holding him in there as he looks up guilelessly. Ed breaks off the third piece and pops it in his mouth, chews it carefully as he watches.

“Fucking lovely like that, aren’t you?” He traces Stede’s features with his thumb, letting the pad drift across Stede’s cheekbone, touching lightly along the shell of his ear. “Made to take me like this, I reckon.”

This time he nods a little, gives a pleased little hum.

“Being so good for me, Stede, not long to go.” He sucks the last of the fudge from his other thumb and considers the final piece in the packet, Stede’s eyes following the same path. It’s been maybe ten minutes now, and Stede has been good, patiently waiting down there, taking him very fucking nicely for a guy who had zero experience until this month.

“All right,” he says, decided. “Make me come in the next twenty seconds and it’s yours.”

He had not anticipated the blaze of determination that lights Stede’s eyes now as he fucking yanks Ed’s ass across the seat, positioning himself to take him really fucking deep this time, deep enough that his lips meet the circle of his fingers, and Ed can’t help but fist his hand in Stede’s hair as he cries out. Stede just sucks harder, literally swallowing around him, now bobbing up and down with all the controlled force of a tornado.

He loses all awareness of time; couldn’t say if it takes ten seconds or twenty or a week, but Stede presses deep again and it’s so much heat, so much tightness, so much pressure, that Ed comes with a shout, spilling down his throat in waves.

When he pushes Stede back there are tears in his eyes, and Ed bends down and kisses him, hands on his cheeks. Pulls him up and onto the seat beside him, keeps kissing him. “Fuck,” he gasps. “You okay?”

“I’m bloody wonderful,” Stede rasps out, and then he puts out his hand. “My reward?”

“Oh, no no.” Ed’s still got a tight grip on the fudge, so tight that it’s been mashed into a little round shape by his grip. Fucking crushed that when Stede blew his mind. Still, he manages to get it out of the wrapping and lifts it to his lips, as Stede’s face falls.

He looks like a kicked puppy, and Ed reaches out and pulls him in by the neck, speaks around the sweet. “Here.”

The understanding dawns on his face a second later, and he leans in and covers Ed’s mouth with his own, extracts the fudge and pulls away. Chews it carefully, swallows it, and says, “That had the unfortunate resonance of being quite avian, but I liked it!”

Ed thumps his head back against the seat, laughing until he wheezes. “Fuck, man. No you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” he admits, one hand idling on Ed’s thigh. “But I liked the rest.”

They sit like that for a minute, smiling at each other like fools, before there’s a swell of noise from back at the market. Just a bit of laughter and chat on the shifting breeze, but it’s enough to make Ed yank his trousers back up from his ankles, and for Stede to climb awkwardly from the back seat into the front, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Sounds like our signal to get a move on!”

Home, then, back to the cabin. It’s been a perfect Sunday, and in the morning, they’ll be waking to more Tree Change. Just for a minute, it’s easy to pretend they don’t have a worry in the world.

That lasts as long as it takes to drive back to the cabin through the afternoon sunshine, both of them singing loud and off-key to the season three playlist so far, with all the bangers the music coordinator has slid into the new episodes, plus a couple of upcoming ones Ed’s managed to sneak out of a contact in advance.

Back at the cabin it feels like home, bumping hips as they unload their goodies and putter around the kitchen, and then Stede stops short.

“Ed.” He’s holding a piece of paper in his hand, and he lifts it up. “Ed, look.”

He goes over, frowning. “What is it, babe?”

It’s a flyer for the market, is the immediate answer; someone must’ve slipped it in there with one of Stede’s purchases. Pretty watercolour of the mountains, no doubt done by a local artist, with a snazzy edited pic of a few food trucks ranged in front of it. Nothing looks out of place, until Stede taps the bottom. “Look.”

There are logos there from companies that sponsor the market. A couple of local businesses, a bank, and then… “Fuck,” he whispers, because yeah, shit, he gets it immediately.

There’s the Carmody logo down the bottom. And right beside it is the Shuttlecock logo, their own fucking company. And right beside that is—

“Hopscotch Environmental Services.” Stede looks up, his eyes reflecting the same shock Ed’s feeling as everything falls together. “My father’s company.”

One of a shit-ton of different entities funded by his company, anyway, named after the scotch bonnet pepper, clever little play on words, perfect name for a place that burns the shit out of anyone who works there, as Stede knows all too well. It’s the place he’d been working before the divorce, before he shifted over to Shuttlecock.

“Stede,” Ed says, because this information is swirling into a very particular shape in his head. “Why the fuck would these three companies be funding—“

“A visible public benefit in an area that might need the community to hold positive attitudes toward them?” His voice is pitching higher; he’s run a hand through his hair, and it’s sticking up in places as he paces, his other hand on his hip. “This looks an awful lot more like an episode of Tree Change all of a sudden, and I’m… I’m not…”

Ed can see the panic setting in in real time. He’s there beside him in a second, blocking his path, taking him by the shoulders. “Hey. Breathe with me, yeah?”

Stede nods wordlessly. Takes a breath in, lets it out in time with Ed. Repeats, until the panic has dimmed a little.

“Okay. Okay. This doesn’t tell us anything yet, yeah? We don’t know yet. Might be a coincidence. Maybe Carmody’s just trying to get them on board as a buffer for whatever the fuck they’re doing; maybe they don’t know.”

He can hear himself, and it all sounds like excuses.

“Ed, if my father—if my father is involved—“

He knows exactly what he wants to say to that, but he bites his lip. “Whatever you decide, mate.”

His expression is steady. “Then he needs to go down with the rest of them, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Thank fuck they’re on the same page about that. “But—“

“But Mary, yes.” Still working there. Ed doesn’t even get as far as opening his mouth before Stede says, “We need her out here. We need to talk to her.”

He’s met Mary a few times; she’s been nice enough, but he’s had to give her a little side eye for some of the divorce shit they’ve gone through. He’s on Stede’s side, after all, biased as fuck about it, no plans to be anything else. He also knows the divorce shit Stede’s sent back the other way, but it’s all washed up in a place where everyone’s pretty comfortable with each other now, and fuck, he guesses he fits into that picture these days. So yeah, may as well kick off being the new boyfriend with a whole fucking conspiracy against a conspiracy, right.

“Let’s make it happen. And, uh. Let’s… try not to think about it too much, okay? Nothing we can do right now.”

The tension lingers for a little longer anyway, but Ed gives Stede a shoulder massage after dinner, and by the time he’s done Stede melts into him for a quick rewatch of episodes four and five. Lights out by the middle of episode five, when Tāne’s having a heart to heart with his old friend and colleague Sam, who’s calling him out.

You didn’t think you had anything to be sorry for.

Fuck no, I was only doing what I had to do.

Did you? Have to do those specific things? Or were they choices, too? They’re all choices, Tāne. You can make different ones, or the same ones, but you can’t expect a different outcome from those.

Ed’s… seeing a lot of himself in Tāne this season, and that’s why he’s nervous as fuck about where this is all going tomorrow, just as everything here is ramping up, too. He knows the end of episode seven is going to be a rough one, because he has friends who were at an exclusive screening last week, and they had their shit rocked by it.

He’s just trying to convince himself very, very hard that it’s not going to have any bearing on anything here, not in this cabin, not outside it.

But, he guesses, they can’t avoid whatever’s coming. Not on the screen, not off it.

~

Stede wakes before the alarm the next morning, nervous energy fizzing through him as he goes through what’s now become quite the regular routine. Up, bathroom, electric kettle on. He stands in the kitchen tapping his fingertips against the counter while it boils, staring down at the two mugs.

They’ve been insulated here, protected and buffered from the outside world, wrapped up in each other. And god, they’ve seen that happen to Rupert and Tāne at different times, too. Watched them assume their love was enough to keep them safe, and then it wasn’t.

The kettle clicks off, and Stede picks it up automatically, pours the water over the teabags. Watches the steam drift up from the surface of each, curling into the morning air like a question mark.

He doesn’t have to fear losing Ed to their own inability to communicate now, at least there’s that. They really are doing better than their fictional counterparts, and it’s quite something to realise that it’s in part because they have that canon example of what happens when you don’t do that. That, and a thousand brilliantly written stories by a wide range of different minds with different life experiences that have shown better ways to do it.

He’s grateful all over again for this community, but there’s also a sinking dread when he thinks about the possibility of outside forces interfering with any of this. The loveliness of what he has with Ed, the camaraderie he has with his crew, all of them working on the same objectives. He doesn’t want the things that happen in Tree Change to happen to any of them. He’d really quite like the villainy to stay on the screen, especially as it pertains to his father.

His father, who he hasn’t spoken to since he came out to the man last year, and had to suffer the coldness of his disapproval. It doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t, and it had still hurt like few things he can remember.

And, well. If his father is involved in this, then it feels very much like he wouldn’t coincidentally send Stede out to investigate it. There’s more to the picture, and at this particular moment Stede’s not entirely sure if it makes him feel more or less convinced that his father might be involved. But there’s also he and Ed out here fucking on every available surface, even out at a market full of people, and it’s the sort of middle finger he dearly enjoys sending in his father’s direction.

The bags have steeped enough, and so he retrieves the milk and adds a dollop to Ed’s, a larger splosh to his own, and then he scoops a truckload of sugar into Ed’s and takes them both back into the bedroom. Ed’s just stirring as he comes in and sets the mugs on the bedside table.

“Good morning,” he says.

“No it isn’t,” Ed murmurs. “Fuckin’ too early.”

“But at least it’s Tree Change early,” he says, slinging the curtains open, letting in the morning sun, making Ed groan and shove a pillow over his head. “Chop chop, we’ve got minutes to spare.”

He settles himself back into the warm pocket under the blankets that Ed’s left behind on his dash to the bathroom, and opens up his phone while he waits. The group chat is absolutely pinging back and forth this morning, everyone typing at once.

Pete: Anyone else got a nervous tummy, or just Lucius?

Fang: Shitting my pants over here, mate!

Jim: Too much information, cabrón.

Lucius: It’s a figure of speech, god, he’s not literally doing that.

Jim: 🔪

Lucius: Anyway I’m nervous. And I don’t want to be right about it buuuut…

Jim: You think they’re not gonna fuck?

Lucius: Of course they’re going to fuck, but it’s not going to go well.

Roach: Manifesting no broken dicks 🙏

Jim: 🔪🔪🔪

Ed ambles back in a moment later with the laptop. His hair’s looping down his bare shoulder in a braid today, and it’s lovely, all salt and pepper twists. He drops into the bed beside Stede and makes the whole mattress tip, sending Stede sliding in against his arm.

“Hey,” Ed says, grinning. “Miss me?”

“Always.”

They somehow manage to get it all set up around breaks for kissing, and then the screen’s open, the group chat’s still pinging, and Ed presses his tea into his hands and refreshes the page, and there it is.

Episode Six, Crossed Signals, and that title does precisely nothing for Stede’s anxiety.

It starts off easy, actually. He’d feared that Tāne and Rupert and the crew might run into some sort of trouble, rescuing their colleagues from the evil oil conglomerate run by Rupert’s father. But they bring all their strengths together for the purpose, and somehow, it goes off without a hitch. Not only do they manage to break Aisha and Nālani out of captivity, but they actually snag a list of conspirators on the way out.

“If only it were that easy in real life,” Stede whispers, and Ed snorts.

From there, the mood lifts considerably. They’re back on the ship, and it’s functioning again, allowing them to head back toward the city. They’ve got the evidence they need, they’re going to take down Rupert’s father, and then they’re going to be free, right? There’s so much levity that the crew has decided to throw a party to celebrate Aisha and Nālani’s engagement, and everything is going beautifully—even Keith has come out to sing Eternal Flame, with musical chops that have stunned everyone.

“Holy shit,” Ed whispers, and when Stede looks over, there are tears in his eyes.

It’s short-lived, because there’s a bang, and the party is immediately interrupted by another boat slamming into them. It’s so unexpected that—once again—Stede throws his hand out and catches Ed’s arm, and both of them hold their breath as chaos erupts, decorations thrown everywhere, the whole crew in a panic.

And then, of course, just like they did in the third episode of season one, they realise they can jam the controls of the other boat with a quick hacking job, and, out of control, it capsizes and begins to sink.

Tāne’s the one who sees the pilot out there, waving for help. Rupert holds him back, tells him to let them drown, and oh, fuck, that’s going to come back to haunt them later, isn’t it? Stede has to unclench his own jaw as Tāne dives over anyway and swims out there.

And thank god he did, because when he gets back to the ship and the crew pull him and the mystery interloper in, it’s—

“Fucking hell, it’s Lauren,” Ed gasps.

Tāne’s ex-girlfriend, the FBI agent who’d been assisting them all throughout the second season, and Stede’s mouth is hanging open. “Was she trying to help? Or is she—is she on Stafford’s side?”

The question is answered right away, as Rupert finds the list they liberated from Stafford, and, flipping through it, finds Lauren listed right there. Proof. He tells the crew to lock her up, goes back to his quarters, and fuck. Ed holds his arm out wordlessly and Stede snuggles in there, needing the warmth.

Because of course Tāne follows, of course he does. There’s no choice, right? It’s not a choice between Lauren and Rupert. And he’s hoping to convince Rupert not to hand her in, they can all see that. Instead he finds Rupert melting down over everything that’s happened, upset that he’s had to take such a hard line, and before Tāne can say a thing, Rupert’s slammed him up against a wall and kissed him.

And then, and then—

“Oh my god.”

Keith’s still out there, back to singing Eternal Flame as the crew rock along with him, all of them combining into the shouting peak of the song. And as they do, down below, Rupert and Tāne are falling into bed together for the first time since their separation.

Despite the intention to take it slow.

Despite the complicating factor that they’ve just arrested Tāne’s ex.

Despite everything, and god, Stede’s relieved, he is, but he’s also deeply, deeply conflicted about it as it fades to black, and he’s utterly frozen as the end credits roll and one of the crew sends a celebratory flare up into the night.

“Subtle,” Ed says with a snort, and then lets out the rest of his breath. “Fuck, they really went there.”

“They did.” They’ve all been sure it was going to happen, they have—the phone is absolutely lighting up with messages now as everyone loses their mind about it—but he hadn’t expected it quite like that. “I’d sort of hoped it might be… softer than that,” he says, not sure how to articulate it. “Less of a vibe of obligation on Tāne’s end.”

Ed squeezes him. “I reckon that’s going to be easier to process on a rewatch you know? First time everything just flies right in your face, you’ve gotta take it all in, get your head around it, and then it’s done. Feels like copping a firehose of new information, but then when you go back, it almost always turns out to be not that rushed, when you know what to expect.”

There have been a lot of complaints about the pacing, that’s for sure, but it’s also been a higher emotional investment than any of them have ever had before. People are watching it worldwide in all kinds of timezones, some of them up through the night for it, and it makes it very hard to weigh. Stede has a sense that they’re all going to see it a little bit differently when they have the whole season to hand, and god, they’re close to that.

He tries to gather himself, his nerves on fire. “I’m sure it’s not going to be an immediate problem or anything.”

Ed chuckles as he clicks the next episode. “Sure it’s not. They’re great at talking to each other.”

They’re the worst at talking to each other, and as Episode 7 starts—Tides Turning, one can only hope in a good direction—the anxiety is fizzing.

It starts calmly enough. In fact Tāne brings Rupert breakfast in bed, and Stede nudges Ed, because they’ve managed to make that their thing before these two ever got there, and that delights him. They’re talking easily. Tāne finally tells Rupert about the wild dream he had on the edge of death, about the snake god and the jungle sea, and it’s soft, and it feels like it’s all going to be okay. They’re about to get everything they’ve been fighting for. Rupert’s agreed to give Tāne time to figure things out with Lauren, makes sure that Rupert can’t be implicated in anything himself.

And then, quite promptly, it all goes to shit.

They make it back to the city. Rupert dobs his father in, hands over the redacted list of names, though not before making a copy that includes Lauren’s, just in case he needs to use it; Tāne might trust her, but Rupert’s been burned one too many times. His father and his brother are arrested.

“Finally,” Stede mutters.

And then it sort of… goes to Rupert’s head, a little bit. He’s the hero of the press conference, lauded by all. He’s invited onto talk shows, where he takes a justifiably self-righteous stand about everything that’s happened. Maybe, a little bit, inadvertently paints himself as being the centre of it all.

And Tāne’s watching from home, with Lauren, and the two of them are very much outsiders in the whole thing, together.

“He wouldn’t,” Stede breathes, getting the sense of where this might be going, suddenly terrified of watching Tāne make the choice that was never meant to be on offer. “Not after everything.”

Ed shakes his head. “No fucking way. I believe in him.”

Lauren asks Tāne outright to run away with her, which has Stede spluttering with indignation, but Tāne—thank god—declines. Lets her escape, even, and hell, Stede couldn’t have imagined being that relieved to see the back of Florence Pugh last season, because she’s incredible in this role. But as the episode winds toward the end and the crew celebrate the end of an era with a party to replace the one that was interrupted, this season’s new addition June comes sliding back in and offers Tāne a new start, a new identity.

And where everything had seemed so sure before, and they’d all been absolutely confident that Rupert was the only thing he wanted, it’s less so now.

Tāne and Rupert slow dance for a bit, and it’s everything they’d hoped for.

I want forever, Rupert says. I want that with you.

And Tāne- he doesn’t say it back, and it has Stede swallowing thickly. He just kisses Rupert instead, soft and romantic, swaying to the soft strains of their theme on the balcony.

It’s not over yet, Tāne says. Not as long as Grayson’s out there.

They’ll catch him soon. He’s on the run, it can’t last forever—

I’m on the run!

But you were in the right. They’ll see that.

Forgive me if I don’t trust the fucking cops.

Trust me, Tāne. Trust me that I’ll move heaven and earth to keep you safe.

And then the crew calls Rupert inside, and he goes reluctantly, telling Tāne to wait for him.

Stede can see it on Tāne’s face, the way he watches Rupert go, and he’s already starting to tear up. “Oh, no. Oh, no no no.”

And the thing is, Keith is watching from inside, shrewd about it. Always knows what’s happening. So when Rupert comes back later and there’s no sign of Tāne, when he hunts through the apartment increasingly frantic, flinging open doors and calling his name, it’s no surprise to find that Keith’s the only other person missing.

There’s just a note left on the bed they should have been sharing, that night and ever after. And all it says is,

I can’t wait any longer.

“That’s it?” Stede bursts out, as Rupert’s tears spill over and the end credits play. He’s crying properly now. “Ed. Ed! He’s been rejected so many times in his life. So many times, he’s never felt good enough for anyone, until Tāne, and now Tāne can’t even wait for him??”

Ed just rocks him for a bit, nose pressed into his hair, before he speaks. “Think it’s bigger than ten minutes of waiting, mate. Nobody’s ever fought for Tāne, until Rupert. He’s always had to do it for himself, and he’s tired of fighting. And now Rupert’s out there picking fights that are going to keep this all going, and it’s too much. For now. If that was the end it’d finish there. There’s a whole other episode to go.”

He nods automatically. “There is. Yes. There is.”

And it’s the end of everything, and he’s not sure he’s ready to face that, it hits him quite suddenly. Three years of this journey, and it’s going to be over next week, forever, the final ever episode of this show. Sure, they’ll have the existing episodes, and the stories they’ve created, and the friends they’ve made, and the love they’ve found. But knowing they’ll never wait like this again hits him like a freight train, and it’s not long before Ed’s shut the laptop and deposited it on the floor, and dragged him back down into the bed. At the last minute, he hauls the covers up over their heads.

“Hey,” he says softly, face to face in their private little world, wiping the tears off Stede’s cheeks. “You want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, because he doesn’t really have the words for what he’s feeling right now. “No. No, I just… need you.”

To prove to him that this is solid and real and it’s not going to vanish, no matter how things end on the show, or out here. He knows, he knows they’re going to pull a happy ending out, but sometimes the unhappy endings have been the things that kept them going as fans and as writers, and even that sounds intimidating.

“Stede.” Ed puts their foreheads together. “Hey. I’m here, okay?”

The proximity puts their legs together, and Stede reaches down desperately to find Ed’s cock, soft under his pyjamas. He meets Ed’s eyes in the dim, warm air under the covers. “Please.”

It’s only a moment later that Ed nods, and shifts his hips to let Stede shove his pyjamas down. His own follow, and he presses them together as both of them shift from soft, slipping through his fist, to hard, pressed tight against each other. Ed loops a hand behind his neck and kisses him. Under here everything’s both muffled and amplified, both of them breathing faster as Stede jerks them together, the light warm and dim where it seeps through the covers.

It’s a quiet, frantic minute that has his arm cramping before long, but then Ed’s hand slides over his and takes over, and he watches Stede’s face as he changes the angle a little, the pace, picking it back up again. This is what he needed, exactly what he needed, because in short order all of the anxiety is flooding out of his system as he sinks into the sensation of Ed’s palm around his cock, Ed’s cock slipping and sliding against his, and in a minute he’s throwing his head back with a groan as his orgasm punches through him, spilling between them and making everything slick as Ed keeps working over his own cock.

He hisses through his teeth as he comes a few seconds later, warmth splattering Stede’s belly. They lie there like that for another minute before Ed says, “Need some new air in here.”

Stede swipes the covers back, and only then realises exactly how sweaty they’ve both ended up. Ed has tendrils of hair plastered to his forehead, beads of sweat along his nose, but he’s grinning.

“Fuck, we didn’t even think about the prompts.”

Stede wipes his hand on the already messy sheets and reaches back for his phone, because his brain by no means has the capacity to figure out the answer otherwise. “Cumshot,” he reads, and looks up at Ed. “What’s a cumshot?”

Ed buries his face in the pillow as he laughs. “Fuck. Usually means like, you’re fucking, and you pull out, come on someone’s body instead.”

Stede makes a face. “I suppose we came on each other.”

“Check that box,” Ed says, grinning. “Next?”

“Begging,” he recites.

“Think I remember you saying please.”

“Well, that’s just manners.”

“What if I’d taken my time replying? Reckon you’d have begged harder?” His gaze is soft, but determined. “Because I could hear it in your voice, how much you needed that. Made a whole lot more sense of what just happened between the boys there.”

God, it did, didn’t it? Suddenly he very well understands both of them, Rupert desperate for it, Tāne desperate to give it. “I would. I would have begged harder, yes, I—“ Needed this, more than he can say, desperately. “Yes, all right, let’s call begging sorted. And the phrase is… is that all you’ve got?”

They both look down between them, at the mess of come that’s pooled on the sheets, sliding into Stede’s belly button.

“Fuckin’ hope so,” Ed says, and they both burst into giggles.

When they’re done laughing, Stede sighs. “I suppose we’d better get up and deal with this. And get on with work. And… process.”

“And process,” Ed says. “We can pull some of this into the fic, you know. Get our heads around it like that.”

There’s one lingering worry in the back of Stede’s head at the moment that he doesn’t know how to voice. He doesn’t even like Keith, certainly doesn’t care much about him, but he knows how passionate that side of the fandom can be, and it would be devastating if they went where he fears they might be going. “You don’t think they’d kill off Keith, do you? After three years of bringing his character arc around like that?”

Ed shakes his head. “He’s an indestructible little fucker. No way.”

No way. No, he trusts them, he does. He does. He’s going to keep trusting them, for one more episode. By the time that episode rolls around, what the hell is everything going to look like here? One week feels like no time at all, but also like an absolute eternity.

He can only hope they’re not living a Tree Change story at all. But again, at least they’re doing it together, more than ever.

And they're gathering a hell of a team to face it with, if needs be.

Chapter Text

“Shh, shh, shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you?” Stede’s voice is low in Ed’s ear, and he’s thrashing on his side on the bed, eyes covered, hands bound behind him, near biting through the gag that Stede’s made out of his bandanna. Stede’s fingers are trailing over Ed’s chest and down, lingering in the hair that steps from his belly button down to his aching cock.

He’s full, so fucking full of Stede’s cock. Surrounded by the sensory input of him, the sweet cologne, the shaky breaths in his ear, the bruising grip of his fingers on Ed’s hips as he thrusts in again and again, making Ed cry out. The gag’s soaked through with spit, because it feels like they’ve been at this for fucking hours. Maybe they have.

“Have you had enough yet?” Stede asks quietly, as if they really are hiding out in the library of some stuffy mansion, Tāne bound because he can’t keep still, can’t keep quiet. Another one of their games, another chance for Ed to get lost in someone else’s head for a minute, and Tāne, well, he’s losing his whole fucking mind at the steady thrust of Rupert’s cock inside him. He’s big, Christ, he’s still not used to that yet. It’s perfect. He never feels like he can get enough of it.

He shakes his head, almost sobbing. It’s gagging today, first up. They’d started out with toys, Stede absolutely determined to follow the instructions to the letter. He’d fucked Ed steadily, upped the vibrations, angled it until he got Ed shouting, and then he’d winked and said, I think we talked about gags once before.

Yeah they did, and Ed had never forgotten that conversation. With a gag, or on a cock? I suppose we’ll find out when we get there. And now here they are, and the lunatic answer to the question is… why not both?

Stede’s never been anything but thorough, and so after he’d tied Ed’s hands he’d fucked Ed’s face for a bit first, until his cries were just a low moan around the length in his mouth, his throat. And then he’d pulled out and kissed Ed for a bit, while he was all bound and couldn’t grab him, and then he’d tied the fabric between his teeth and told him to be a good boy.

He can be good. He can be so fucking good. It’d taken all of thirty more seconds for him to come after Stede slid down and sucked his cock, and the orgasm had near put him through the roof, such was the intensity of it.

And then, because that was the overstimulation plan, they hadn’t stopped.

No, Stede hadn’t even dropped the intensity of the toy, though he’d taken enough mercy on Ed to stop thrusting it. Hadn’t stopped sucking his nipples, though, toying with his soft cock. Soon enough the edge of pain had receded, and he’d started filling out again. And that was when this had started, when Stede had slipped another bandanna around his eyes, slid behind him and started whispering filthy shit in his ear. He’s still doing it, now that he’s tossed the toy aside and started fucking Ed himself.

“Do you feel me, Edward? Feel how deep I am inside you.”

“Nnnnghhhh.” So deep, deeper with every thrust, and Ed can feel it building again as Stede strokes his cock with every driving motion.

He’s crying for real at the intensity of it, tears slipping down to soak the pillow under his cheek, feeling out of his fucking mind as his climax builds, less like a fireworks shower of sparks, more like a nuclear fucking explosion, detonating throughout him, bright blow after bright blow, until he’s shaking apart in Stede’s hands again.

And Stede doesn’t stop. Stede’s a machine, fuck, a steady, solid presence sliding in and out of him, slick with lube and striking sparks that Ed can’t tell apart anymore, pleasure/pain. He’s getting looser in his movements, tighter with his grip, breathier, too, mouthing at Ed’s neck. “So good, oh, god, feeling you like this, it’s—fuck.”

He drops his forehead to Ed’s shoulder, pushes him over a little more, a better angle for fucking down into him, a better one for watching his own cock disappearing into Ed’s body. Shoving Ed down into the mattress, a firm hand on his back, the other one pulling his head back.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “God, look at you taking me like you were made for my cock.”

Ed’s going to come again. It’s not humanly possible, but he can feel it building anyway as Stede’s hips stutter a little.

“I’m going to come,” Stede announces gravely. “I’m sorry, Ed, it’s too much feeling you like this, I’ll keep fingering you afterwards, I just—“

He breaks off with a broken groan as he shoves in deep, hips stilled as he pulses into Ed, whose dick rallies just enough to spurt a little more as he feels himself break, no longer one body, now just a billion tiny vibrating pieces.

Stede’s pulling out of him with a slick sound, rolling him over, and the next moment his fingers are inside Ed again, thick and insistent, and he’s shouting through the gag.

The tone of it gets through, and Stede stops. Reaches up and eases the gag from his mouth, and Ed sobs, “Nuclear. Nuclear, mate, please, fuck—“

Stede pulls his hand free so fast that it almost hurts, and he’s up a moment later, scrambling to pull out the gag, to slip off the blindfold. His face is a mask of worry as Ed blinks up at him through the tears, and then he’s diving to the side to pull the wrist bindings free.

“Oh, god,” he says, pulling Ed into his arms. Ed’s a sobbing wreck, doesn’t know how to get his shit together here. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Ed, I should have checked.”

“Stede. Stede!” He cuts off the spiral before it can go deeper, bringing his numb hands up to hold Stede’s face. “That was fucking perfect, Jesus Christ. It was just enough, and that’s okay. Told you to keep going til I begged you to stop.”

“But the gag, and the blindfold, and the ties, it was too much. If you had wanted to stop earlier—“

“Then I would have clicked three times, like we agreed. I didn’t. Breathe, mate.”

He does as he’s told, sucks in a long breath, still searching Ed’s face. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m so fucked out I don’t think I’m going to walk for a week.”

“Oh, god,” Stede moans, and Ed can’t help but laugh. Grabs him round the neck and pulls him in for a kiss, long and slow and insistent.

“That’s a good thing,” he says, when he’s thoroughly shut Stede up. “Promise. Just having a little sub drop, that’s a thing. Just need you to look after me.”

“All right. All right, good.” He looks over Ed’s body, sweaty and rope-marked and bruised up and covered in come, and his brows draw together again. “What do you need?”

“Water,” Ed croaks. “Bit of a wipe down, probably, maybe a shower, when my knees are solid again. And cuddles.”

“Cuddles.”

“Fuck yeah, lots of cuddles.”

Stede sorts him out. Cleans him up carefully, softly. Brings him his trusty bottle, filled up with cool water, and watches him gulp it down. Feeds him bites of fruit, of fudge—of course he got spares. Brushes the sweaty hair back from his brow, even braids it while Ed lies there, coming back into his own body, and then turns out the lights, wraps around him and squeezes him tight.

“That was incredible,” Stede murmurs in his ear. “God, the way you just kept taking it and taking it…”

“Don’t often do that,” Ed says. Not with one person, anyway; he’s not sure Stede’s ready to hear about how wild shit can get with two or three or four. Besides, he’s done with those days. “Fun challenge, though.”

Stede’s hand is staying respectfully away from any hot button parts of his body, but his palm is searing warm anyway, pressed against his belly. “Maybe I could try it next time.”

“Yeah?” The thought of Stede laid out, coming over and over, until he’s begging for mercy, is almost enough to get his dick rallying again. “Guess we’ve got multiple orgasms coming up.”

“That we do.”

It’s never not going to make his skin tingle, hearing Stede talk about sex comfortably. That’s something that’s changed this month as they’ve worked their way through this list. So much has changed, it’s almost a different world.

The quiet gets quieter, in that way it does when Ed can almost hear Stede thinking. Sure enough, when he speaks again it’s soft. “Do you… do you think Tāne was in the best place for making love with Rupert in episode 6?” Ed knows him well enough to hear the worry. “It’s just… I’ve seen a lot of people talking about issues of consent, with the whole… life and death situation. The taking it slow bit. It’s been on my mind.”

Ed snorts out a laugh, because maybe everyone else isn’t in the kind of situation they’re in. “Remind me how long your taking it slow lasted?”

Stede bites his shoulder gently. “As long as I could stand it.”

“There you go, then.”

“Still, it feels like… well, like Lauren was a complicating factor there.” The ex-girlfriend who turned up, dunked them back into crisis. “That Tāne felt like he had an obligation, both to her, to convince them to let her go, and to Rupert, to make it up to him, and—“

“Nah,” Ed says, because he’s seen the same conversations, and he gets the concerns. They just don’t hit for him. “Look, I get it. I reckon we all wanted it to be soft for them, and uncomplicated, and sweet and all that. They fucking deserved it, Christ, but… life’s not like that, is it?” He says it even as Stede’s wrapped around him, even as he’s pressing kisses into Ed’s spine, his dream come true. “I reckon the whole life or death bit made them want it equally. Both needed each other in that moment, just as much. Because like… Rupert started it, shoving him up against the wall.”

Just like Stede did the other night. “But Tāne nodded.”

“We all saw that.” Once it was slowed down, at least, once the GIF masters of Tumblr got onto it, lightened it up, made it all clear as day, because the lighting this season has been a fuck-ton darker than before, and it’s been a struggle. “Tāne didn’t just nod, he pulled him in. He was fucking driving that. He needed Rupert, simple as that.”

“And the look on his face before the fade to black?”

Ed’s pretty sure he’s had that look on his own face before, half a dozen times this month already. “Don’t know about you, but when all the blood in my body’s gone to my dick because my hot as fuck boyfriend who I’ve been pining over for literally years is standing in front of me half-naked, I’m not thinking much.”

Stede presses his nose to the nape of Ed’s neck as he laughs. “God, yes, that’s relatable.”

Zoned out, mind just a constant loop of I get to fuck him, I get to fuck him, I get—

“He just wanted him so fucking much, you know? Probably thought he was never going to get to have that again, and then he did. Probably… thought he was going to lose it, too, needed to hang onto it with both hands, needed Rupert, just—needed.” He trails off, unable to say it any better than that.

“Wanted,” Stede adds. “Wanted and needed, and he got that. And he’ll get to keep it forever from next week.”

Right, right, the finale, and they’re—they’re all going to trust that. They are.

“Goodnight, Ed,” Stede murmurs against the back of his neck. “I love you.”

It’s so fucking easy. It could stay like this, it really could, if everything went the right way.

“Love you, too.”

~

The next day dawns a little bit gray, rain spitting down from the sky. Stede sits beside Ed on the porch in the morning, feet kicked up as they drink their tea, and Ed says, “We’ll go out later, maybe. Take the morning, to, uh. Do other things.”

“Other things,” Stede says, and he can’t help the amused tilt to his voice. “Go on, then.”

“Well,” Ed says, shifting in his seat. He’s all bright eyed this morning, nothing like the wiped out, shaking mess he’d been last night, scaring the daylights out of Stede. “It’s, uh. It’s sex machine day.”

“Oh,” Stede says, as it hits him distinctly between the eyes. “Oh, well, it’s a pity we don’t have one of—what is a sex machine, Ed?”

“Didn’t Google that one?” He grins a little maniacally. “Lucky for us it’s an interest of mine.”

“Sex machines?” If his voice is a little higher in pitch than usual, that can’t be helped. “Really?”

Stede’s not sure what he’s imagining, actually. Some sort of… half-sentient robot? Something much less personal? A toy like the rest they’ve used? Ed cuts off his flight of imagination by unfolding himself from his chair and stretching a little. “Wait there.”

And then he’s dashing off down the stairs to the equipment shed, and Stede, well. Stede’s not going to obey that command, actually.

He heaves himself up and follows, as Ed’s hair flickers in the light like a school of fish beneath shallow water, the silver catching and sparking as he pulls open the shed door, throws a heated glance back over his shoulder. Stede’s right behind him, laughing.

Ed strides right to the centre of the room. It’s dusty in there, but it’s relatively clean, the floor neatly swept concrete, all the equipment contained on shelving units around the sides. With the door open there’s light spilling in, enough to reveal a cloth-covered object in the very centre of the room, which Stede had never noticed before. He follows Ed as he circles around it.

“Has this been here all along?”

“Since the day we arrived.” Ed grins. “Just waiting for its moment to shine.”

“And that moment is—"

“Now,” Ed says, and yanks the sheet away. “Ta-da.”

Stede leans in closer, taking it in. “Wow. And that’s a…”

“That’s a sex machine,” Ed says proudly. “Beauty, isn’t she?”

It’s quite something. Knee high and squared, a sanded-down wooden frame with two parallel bright red pads like bicycle seats on top, a single handle on the front, and an open space in the middle to fit—

“A dick,” Ed says proudly, pulling out a box, which he opens up. Inside are several flesh-coloured dildos of various sizes, and Stede nods, mouth going dry.

“Wow. And you… did you make that?”

“With my own two hands, yeah.” He slides one of the dildos out of the box and leans into the gap, fiddles around until it’s fixed in place. Then he stands back, hands on hips. “What do you think?”

It’s protruding up through the gap, thoroughly erect, mildly intimidating. “Is one supposed to… ride that?”

Ed steps in closer, gives it a nudge. “So you get yourself on that, and then you start to move. It’s called a monkey rocker, rocks you back and forth, thrusts into you every time. Fucking amazing.”

He’s talking about it almost fondly. “And which of us is going to… mount up, as it were?”

Ed tugs him close a second later, an easy arm around his shoulders. “Think you fucked every last bit of come out of my body last night. But, uh, maybe I should demonstrate it first, huh? Little easier for someone who’s done it before. And then you can give it a go if you want.”

He’s not sure if he does want to or not, but he does know he’d very much like to see Ed like that, even if it feels greedy just now, after everything Ed gave last night. “Should we carry it up to the house, then?”

Ed casts a glance around the shed, and by the time his gaze lands on Stede he’s grinning. “Reckon we can do it right here.”

It doesn’t take him long to shed his clothes. By the time Stede gets back from the cabin with lube, Ed’s already standing beside the sex machine absolutely bare. His hair’s loose around his shoulders and he’s gorgeous, god, Stede’s never going to get used to how lovely he is, when he can see every single inch of Ed’s skin. And despite last night’s rough use, his cock is more than half hard, and Stede has to laugh.

“You know Lucius warned me that we’d end up with balls like raisins?” He does the little pinch motion that’s been haunting him for weeks. “Made me bring out that case of Gatorade.”

“Did he,” Ed says, grinning. “So Lucius knows, huh?”

“Oh—bugger it.” Caught. He bites his lip. “I might have asked his advice, a little bit. I’m sorry.”

Ed waves him away. “Fuckin’ glad you had someone to talk to, mate. This whole situation could’ve been a bit of a mind-fuck without that.”

And maybe it was for Ed, not having the same, because he was trying to respect Stede’s privacy. Stede pushes the guilt down and says, “Well, at least we have each other to talk to, hmm?” He proffers the bottle of lube. “And do… other things with.”

Ed’s absolutely beaming as he pulls half his hair up. This morning he’d idly painted his nails black as they sat looking out over their poisoned domain, and they gleam now as he shakes his muscles loose, turns around and braces himself. “Open me up, would you?”

It doesn’t matter how many times Stede does this, he’s still going to be awed by the trust it takes, every single time. He always handles Ed carefully, reverently, makes sure not only to slick his fingers up and press them home, but to caress him gently while he does, stroking over the soft lines of his body along with the hard.

He murmurs praise as he kisses the knobs of Ed’s spine, one by one, down over the enormous skull and the spider webs and the weeping snakes and the Trust No One, which he’s barely considered before. It’s all part of Ed, the journey to becoming who he is, but the more he hears about Ed’s past, the better he understands that one. He’s still utterly determined to give Ed something new to believe, all the same.

He only makes it through two fingers before Ed’s standing straight again, prompting him to pull out. “I’m ready. I’m good.”

He really is, still loose from last night, still puffy and a little worn from use, which has Stede biting his lip again, this time trying to contain his concern. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

Ed nods down at his cock, which is standing at full mast. “What do you think?”

“I think… yes, I think you seem into it.”

“I am, thank you.” He walks around the back of this thing and slings his leg over like he’s mounting an actual horse, but this one has rather a lot more to contend with. Stede’s beside him in a moment, not able to resist the urge to take hold of his forearm, to help ease him down. Ed’s sinking determinedly, no hesitation, and so Stede reaches under him to make sure the silicone cock is right where it needs to be. It’s firm, but it’s got a little give to it, not a bad replica of the real thing, though nothing will ever match that. If the thought comes through a little petulantly, that’s not his fault in the least.

The cock catches Ed’s rim and slips inside him, and he lets out a gasp, both hands grasping tightly onto the handle at the front.

“Are you all right?”

Ed nods, eyes closed in concentration. “Yeah, I’m good. So fucking good, yep, yep, there it is—“

He bottoms out with a long groan, and Stede hovers. But then Ed opens his eyes at last and grins again. “Watch.”

His thighs are supported on the two red pads, and he rocks forward a little. And the mechanism moves, god, he’s not lifting himself onto it and off, it… it rocks with his motion, fucking up into him, fucking back out again, and in seconds Ed is gasping for breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants. “Oh, fuck, I’d forgotten how good this feels, fuck.”

He devolves out of speech from there, just setting his own rhythm, and it’s all Stede can do to stand there and do as he’s told as Ed’s rosy-tipped cock bobs between his legs and the dildo disappears up into him, thrust after thrust, gleaming. Stede’s standing here in front of him at a loss, looking down at him, and then Ed’s eyes fly open.

His voice is ragged. “Get yourself off, Stede, come on. Come on me. Let me see.”

He’s been trying to envision himself rocking on the machine just like Ed is, coming up short every time. But that, he thinks he can do, yes. He unzips his trousers carefully, because god, he’s hard enough to cut glass here.

“Closer,” Ed whispers, letting out a little grunt as the dildo shoves into him again.

Closer, and… all right, this close, standing directly in front of Ed with his cock in hand, Ed rocks closer to him on every bit of forward motion. Their eyes meet, and Ed gives a little nod, and to hell with it, why not try. Ed manages to pause on the forward rock, long enough for Stede to feed his cock into Ed’s willing mouth. He sucks all the way off on the backward rock, moaning both at the loss of the cock in his mouth, and the outward thrust of the dildo. Like being fucked in both ends at once, Stede thinks wildly. Spit-roasted, he thinks they call it.

“Aren’t you beautiful?” he says, low and sincere. It’s the verbal prompt for today, but it’s more apt than anything he could possibly conjure up. Utterly, utterly true.

Ed gets into the kind of elegant rhythm only Ed could possibly manage, sucking his cock and rocking on the machine at the same time. Gripping the pads with his hands, until he’s almost vibrating with the overwhelm of it, especially after last night, Stede can see it.

“Ed. Ed, wait, do you… do you want to come? Go on, you should.”

“Okay, okay, yeah, I should—” He stops what he’s doing to Stede and concentrates on himself for a bit, stripping his own cock, faster and faster, until on a forward rock, cock buried deep inside him, he throws his head back and shouts as he comes. He’s a picture, the cords of his neck drawn tight, feet scrabbling for purchase on the floor as the motion carries on and the machine keeps fucking into him, and this time Stede’s ready.

Reaches out and grabs him, steadies him, helps the whole thing stop rocking. Holds him while he breathes through it. Keeps holding him even as Ed’s panting breaths steady, and then, like he can’t stand to do anything else, he starts to kiss Stede’s exposed belly under the open flap of his shirt. They’re at just the right height, and Ed pushes him back a step and swallows him down, starts to suck him off as hard as he can. Stede can still see the dildo lodged inside of him, the come dripping down the inside of his leg, his hair falling out of the loose bun with the rocking he’s been doing, and it’s only a moment before the overwhelming release punches through him and he’s spilling into Ed’s mouth.

Ed looks debauched when he looks up, chin spit-slicked, utterly ruined, and Stede strokes his cheek gently. “I think you’ve earned yourself a little break.”

“Fuckin’ have, yeah.”

He helps Ed to ease off the sex machine, gathers up his clothes, detaches the dildo, and then he lets Ed drape himself over Stede’s shoulder as they walk back to the cabin. Not a surprise that Ed falls into bed after his shower and passes out immediately, leaving Stede to sit beside him, looking him over.

It’s been a… a frenzy for Ed, almost, of seeking to get pounded over the last day. On review, it’s been a touch more often so far that Ed has fucked Stede out here, and he’s still weighing that one up. Perhaps it’s Ed’s preference to top, though they haven’t been very specific about it. He remembers Ed saying he’s vers, likes it both ways, but maybe he likes to top a touch more, and Stede, he’s… maybe falling into a similar line, he thinks, on the other side of the equation. He loves to fuck Ed, a very great deal, but he also loves to feel Ed inside him.

This is recalibrating the way he’s been thinking about it, though, the sheer desperation Ed’s shown to be filled over the last wild twenty-four hours. Perhaps he’s deferring to Stede’s preference. Perhaps they’ve got more work to do here.

They’re working on it, aren’t they? Bit by bit, in balance.

While Ed sleeps, hands folded over his chest, hair spread all around him, beautiful features relaxed, Stede pulls out his laptop and gets back to work.

It’s been hard to get the overall balance of this story, while they’re still waiting for the rest of the new content, the shape of the whole piece of media they’re transforming. And god, the content next week is it. Like an ecological story, he’ll know the sum total of all the parts, the entire ecosystem, every bit of habitat, every bit of community, all of it complete. And then they’ll have the new challenge of working out where their writing fits within that.

He’s already felt the vibes shifting in his head, the more new content they get. He remembers it after season one as well, readjusting to everything they learned in season two. But this season has seen such wide tone shifts, such incredible emotional lows as well as the highs, that it’s reshaping his perspective all over again.

Stories that he started writing before this new content no longer fit quite the same way they did before. Perhaps he’ll have to let those go, or perhaps he’ll just have to reimagine them to fit the new scope. But this one, the one they’ve been working on all month, that’s a different story.

It was built to evolve, not only with the new season, but with their own voyage of discovery. It was always intended to be able to adapt, and he thinks he can see it working, the way they’ve set up separate components of the adventure, so that each can be twisted just so to match the next new bit of information. They’ve evolved the plan to aim for one or two prompts for each of the eight episodes, to fit those mini stories within the overall arc of a long story.

It reminds him a little of another story he wrote for last season, an epistolary 5+1, Five Unsent Letters to Your Soulmate. There he’d hopped like a magpie through all the canon they had, pecking at shiny ideas that had caught his attention over time, ones that had never had a place in anything longer. He’d swooped up a historical setting much like the one they’re using now, the Golden Age of Piracy. He’d polished his way through a Regency arranged marriage, turning the pieces until they shone with Rupert and Tāne’s signature vibes.

He’d worked through a dystopian sort of space odyssey, harnessed all the science-fiction atmosphere, and a literal fairytale with very Ferngully roots—as if he could write an environmental multiverse without drawing on such a classic film—and finally a coffee shop, because what would a fan-fiction oeuvre be without such an inclusion? All he needs now is a tattoo parlour and a florist shop and he’ll be ready for his author biography to read complete.

The plus one had been one final letter from Rupert to Tāne in their canon setting, declaring his love, declaring his regret. He’d written it between seasons, when none of them knew how their separation would resolve, and it had been a common theme across many of his works. That urgent need for Rupert to say it, to say it, and he’d never been self-conscious about it until this month.

He understands that urge better now, because it had always been multi-layered, hadn’t it? The story was always Rupert’s and Tāne’s, yes, but every love letter Stede has ever written, he’s been writing to Ed.

Begging him to wait, to see, to set aside other possibilities, to understand. The force of Stede’s love has been burning white hot, contained within his ribcage, and now it’s been as simply as opening himself up and letting it all flare out, letting Ed see.

Ed’s not been blinded by it yet. Shows no signs of finding it too much, or any of the things Stede’s feared. Every time he worries, Ed somehow instinctively knows how to match him and raise him and reassure him, and god, he’s grateful for it.

That hasn’t changed, any of that feeling, no matter what happens in the new season. Not for Rupert and Tāne, despite their hiccups, he’s sure of it, and absolutely not for he and Ed. That’s going to be the through-line that carries forward through everything else, no matter how the tone changes around it. Love, like a song bird in a war zone, keeps on singing through all the fury and the noise.

He’s right about to work that into… something, he’s not sure what yet, to attempt to process all the complicated feelings inspired by episode six in particular, when he hears the car in the distance.

Attuned to it here now, the way they’ve made themselves part of the landscape over the last month. He hadn’t even noticed how much it had seeped into his conscience until they were at the market the other day, and he’d heard a bird chirping from a nearby tree, and it hadn’t been the same pattern he was used to.

He knows the soundscape of this place now, as well as the landscape, and that’s absolutely incredible. He knows it well enough to shake Ed awake, with regret, watching him blink with surprise, and to say, “We’ve got company.”

None of the crew are expected today, so it’s not without reason that Stede’s heart is picking up pace as he makes his way through the cabin and out onto the porch. There are two vehicles bumping over the track, and he can already see the logos from here. One Shuttlecock, one Hopscotch, and Stede’s heart absolutely sinks as he pulls out his phone. Pops open WhatsApp, hits the group chat, types out the question.

Stede: Anyone coming for a visit today?

There’s nothing for a moment, but the entire team are perpetually attached to their phones, never more than during the new season, when there’s potential for anything dropping at any time, and in a second the replies pop in.

Frenchie: Miss us already?

Lucius: Ed not keeping you busy today? 😏

Oluwande: Everything okay? Be there if you need us.

Roach: Seriously though, are we missing a plan? 😬

Jim: Some of us have lives, cabrón.

Well, that last one stung just a little. Stede has a life, he just happens to be… somewhat absent from it, but it’s all very amicable. His life is here now, with Ed. He shoves the phone in his pocket, keenly aware that there’ll be no different answers coming.

Ed’s pushing through the door behind him, all dressed in black, hair in a serious low ponytail, as the car pulls up and the engine cuts out. He spots the occupants at the same time as Stede and murmurs, “Fuck.”

It’s Nigel Badminton out of the vehicle first, striding around from the passenger side self-importantly. He’s followed by a thin-faced man with what appears to be a thoroughly broken nose, still sporting a couple of black eyes and tape across the bridge, both of them wearing pressed trousers and blazers that’d be better suited to a gentlemen’s club. Izzy climbs out after them, and he and Ed share a significant, pained look that communicates an incredible amount without saying a single word.

The man who gets out of the driver’s seat of the Hopscotch vehicle makes Stede groan. Silver-haired and deep eyed, every bit as manic as he’s always been, dressed head to toe in grey that almost gleams silver in the dull day.

It’s Ed who mutters it next to him. “Ned Low. Fucking perfect.”

But it’s the woman who gets out of the passenger side of Ned’s car that really knocks Stede sideways and makes him gasp. “Mary.”

He and Ed stand there at the top of this last battlement, as if it’s somewhere they can defend, while an utterly bewildering collection of past and present complications descend on them all at once.

“Stede Bonnet, fancy meeting you here.” Nigel comes striding up the stairs, golden ponytail flopping behind him, looking pleased in the same precise way that pleased used to mean preparing to bully Stede until he cried at school. “And Edward Teach.” He gives a simpering smile. “So sorry, Doctor Bonnet and Doctor Teach, wouldn’t want to get it wrong.”

“What do you want, Nigel?”

He blinks in astonishment. “I’m checking up on my employees, doing the work they’re paid by my company to do. What else would you expect?”

The smaller man has arrived at the bottom of the stairs now, and Stede considers stepping aside to make room, so that they can all be on the same level. But Ed just folds his arms and plants his feet, glaring down, imposing. “Who’s this?”

He lets out a high little laugh, sounding astonished that anyone would ask. “I’m Ricky Banes, thank you for asking. Grandson of Walter Carmody, representing his interests in the world. And this place—” He waves a dismissive hand. “Is one of his interests, god knows why.”

Stede grits his teeth. “We’re making excellent progress, as I’m sure you’ve seen from our reports.”

They’ve been submitting the details as they go, very carefully logging only the results that don’t reveal anything of particular suspicion. Back at the beginning they’d agreed to treat this as if they expected something to be wrong, out of place, a conspiracy happening. They’d opted to keep their cards close to their chests. And as Stede looks out across this collection, a Badminton almost hand in hand with a Carmody heir, Izzy, for some reason, Ned Low, Mary! He thinks, actually, that he’s never been wrong for a minute in his suspicions.

He lets his gaze wander over to Mary, who’s staring at him quite intensely, and he breathes through his nose. He knows better than to wonder where the kids are; they have a very capable second father in Doug. Still, all of a sudden the worry is rising to acid levels in his veins at the thought of them both out here, surrounded by… whatever’s going on.

Ed nods to Ned. “Why is he here?”

“He?” Ned presses an offended hand to his chest, looks around as if Ed could be talking about anyone else. “He’s here to cross-check your work, Teach.”

“For a rival company,” Stede says, incredulous. “Really, Nigel, don’t you trust your own?”

Nigel just laughs. “Independent oversight should be welcome if you’re doing a good job, don’t you think?”

“Not sure I’d describe a former colleague like Ned as independent oversight, but—"

Nigel grins, looking very much like he’s winning here, and Stede tries a few deep breaths. “How about Mary Bonnet, then?”

“It’s Mary Allamby again, actually.” She’s got her arms folded, voice tight, and Stede knows that tone all too well. She’s not pleased to be here. “And yeah, as long as my results can be reported without interference, you can trust they’ll be independent.”

Ed lets out a soft snort next to Stede, and he supposes it is somewhat absurd, to suggest that his ex-wife could be anything but biased toward him, not against. But he also supposes that Nigel doesn’t know how amicable things are between them these days. Maybe he thought bringing in Mary would be a strike to the heart of it all, but he’s miscalculated rather badly there, because Mary’s one of the friends he trusts most in the world.

“And you, Izzy?” Ed’s voice has dropped low, soft, dangerous. “What’s your part in all this?”

He shifts uncomfortably. “I’ve been hired on as a sub-consultant. Checking Bonnet’s work specifically.”

He meets Stede’s eye as he says it, and Stede doesn’t know Izzy well. Only knows as much as Ed’s told him—the tumultuous history they’ve shared, all the hurts and the heartache and the very tentative truce they’ve come to this week. And perhaps he’s mistaken to think it, but… he has the sense that he can trust Izzy here. He screws up his nose and says, “Perhaps I’ll need to check his work afterwards instead.”

Izzy scoffs, and Stede can only hope they’re on the same page.

“Let’s get on with it, then,” Nigel says, gesturing vaguely out at the land. “It all looks perfectly healthy to me.” He turns to Stede. “Show me the forest.”

Ed moves first. “Yeah, we can start there—“

“I think not,” Nigel says, putting his chin up. “You’re to take the others and show them the wetlands. We’ll convene later.”

Nigel turns away just as Stede opens his mouth to protest, but Ed catches his arm and pulls him back. And Stede’s never seen his eyes so serious before, so darkly determined as he murmurs, “Keep your phone close. Anything feels off, you turn to Izzy, yeah? Might be a bit of a dick but he’s loyal.”

Stede nods. “Ed. Ed, I need you to do the same for Mary, please.”

“Course.” He leans in, close enough for his breath to brush Stede’s cheek. “She’s with Blackbeard.”

Blackbeard, what—god, wait, Ed is Blackbeard? Of course he’s Blackbeard, Stede realises instantly. He should have joined those dots already, because he already knows. The infamous anonymous environmental activist who’d claimed responsibility for several incidents years ago, hasn’t been heard from in a while. He watches Ed go, striding off down the stairs toward Ned and Mary. He’s widened his stance, puffed his shoulders, and he’s intimidating, actually, the way he throws a glare at Ned, who just laughs.

Nigel’s by the other car, tapping on the roof. “Not hanging around all day, Stede! Let’s get on with it.”

Reluctantly, greatly so, Stede follows.

~

Ed makes small talk, because that’s the easiest way to get the lie of the land. Mary’s driving, Ned glaring from the passenger seat like he’s taken her hostage or something, and Ed hates the vibe that it’s maybe kinda true. He knows this guy by reputation, all too well. Loose canon, shit operator, and worst of all a kiss-ass to corporate interests, so Stede’s told him, from when he also used to work at Hopscotch. The kind of guy who’ll not find anything of concern in an area that’s slated for development, who’ll call down the bulldozers by default, even when he knows that what’s there actually matters. Money talks when it comes to Ned.

“Yeah, they had a short course on at the university,” Mary says brightly, telling him about a trip she took last summer. “Really interesting new technique to analyse nitrogen cycles in loam layers.”

“Incredible,” Ed says. “Did a couple of courses through them, too. One on oxygen concentrations in pond environments, one on erosion and sediment control.”

“Oh nice, nice, I’d looked at that one too. Bit of an intersection of our interests.”

“You two know each other?” Ned says, looking between the two of them in a way that’s uncomfortably sharp. “I didn’t realise.”

Ed wants that attention on him, not on her. “Yeah, well, Stede’s our point in common.”

That succeeds in drawing Ned’s stare his way. “Interesting.”

“It is interesting,” Ed says. “Stede’s a great friend. Guess you didn’t give him enough of a chance to learn that when you worked together.”

Ned scoffs. “Oh please, I don’t have time for generic ecologists.” He swivels to stare into the rear view mirror. “All one type or another, aren’t you? Earnest little believers, or rebels with a cause, or rule followers who get off on being right about everything.”

That one comes with a glance at Mary, who arches her brow even higher. “And which category do you fit into, Ned?”

“I’m an outsider,” he says, without hesitation. “I refuse to be influenced by people who get more than their fair share of the work.”

His eyes are sharp in the reflection, and Ed huffs out a breath, understanding. “Broke a record of yours, did I?”

It hits the mark, Ed can see it. Ned’s jaw tightens. “Fifty consecutive assessments. I was doing fine for myself until you came along, with all your… tattoos, and your beard, and your innovative techniques of isotope analysis. There’s nothing wrong with a traditional approach.”

“Sounds a little discriminatory to me.” Ed tilts his head a little, waves his hand. “I dunno, if you stand still, you’ve gotta expect the people who are still moving to go past you at some point.”

Mary chokes back a laugh, and then she nods. “This the spot?”

“Yeah, this is it.”

The wetland area where Buttons had collected the birds a couple of weeks back, the place where they’ve had result after result from the lower reaches. Because, he knows, this place draws water up from underneath, from the aquifers. It’s not just gathering surface level water. It’s more closely connected to deeper issues they’re zoning in on.

Ned’s already climbing out, already looking around disdainfully. “Doesn’t look like a complex environment.”

Ed slides out the driver’s side so that he can open the door for Mary. He just needs that few seconds of grace to look her right in the eyes, and when she meets his, yeah, he sees it. There’s some real fucking concern there. She glances back over her shoulder to where Ned’s still enjoying the sound of his own voice, and then she slips something into Ed’s hand.

A USB drive.

She meets his stare. “Keep it safe, check it later.”

He nods, speaks low. “Are you safe?”

She gives him a grateful kind of smile. “Yeah, I’m good. No two-bit shitheads are going to intimidate me out of doing the right thing.”

No, not Ed, either, or Stede, or any of the crew, but it kinda matters, the way she put it. “Someone’s trying to intimidate you?”

“Not directly. Just the vibe, isn’t it?”

He nods. “Feels that way.” Ever since those cars pulled up this morning there’s been this creeping dread building, and whatever’s on that USB feels like it’s going to be pretty fucking relevant. He slips it into his pocket and pulls the zip tight. “Safe and sound.”

“And Stede?” Mary’s always been direct as hell, and this time it’s a bigger question.

She knows about them, he knows that, because Stede told him he told her. “I love him,” he tells her, because there’s no point dicking around it. “Think I always have. I’ll look after him.”

“I think the feeling’s always been mutual,” Mary says, grinning. “Just glad you two finally figured it out.”

He squeezes her arm fondly. “Guess we’re kinda step… somethings now, huh?”

She arches a brow. “That serious already?”

Yeah, it is. It really is. “It’s forever,” he promises. “Just gotta get through now first.”

“Teach!” Ned yells from the other side of the car. “Let’s get on with it, I don’t like to run late.”

He rolls his eyes for Mary’s benefit. “They haven’t seen anything yet. That’s a promise. We’re gonna need you here, okay?”

She nods, and he knows in his bones that he can trust her. They’re about to need everyone they can get on their side.

~

Stede’s striding along the forest track as quickly as he can, Izzy keeping pace beside him, the others behind. His thoughts are racing, and none of them feel good. “What is this?” he asks Izzy, quietly as he can. “What’s happening here?”

“Moving toward the end game,” Izzy says, softer than Stede’s ever heard him speak, barely rasping. “They’re here to check on what you’re doing, make sure you haven’t found anything they don’t want you to find.”

“So there is something we’re not supposed to be finding, then?” They’ve suspected it from the beginning, but this, god, this just feels like the confirmation they’ve been waiting for, and Izzy is the last person he expected to give it. “Do you know what it is?”

Izzy shakes his head, and then, loudly, says, “For Christ’s sakes, you’ve never been across the latest research, Bonnet!”

He blinks, winces a little, but then his brain catches up. Ah. He started it. Just as loudly and snippily, he says, “You know absolutely nothing about my methods, Israel!”

Izzy snorts out a laugh, and goes back to being quiet. “Got a call from Badminton yesterday. Told me he knew I’d been out to the property, asked me to tell him everything I’d found.”

“And you did?”

“I told him I’d seen nothing but rocks, and that you had no idea what you were doing.”

“Lovely. Thanks?”

Izzy shrugs. “Thought it’d help offset any suspicion.”

“But it didn’t?”

Izzy’s smile lifts one side of his mouth. “Convinced him I’m not on your side, at least.”

Hmm, well, that does beg the very important question. “But are you?”

His gaze is deep when he meets Stede’s eye again. “I’m on Edward’s side. Always.”

“So am I.”

Izzy nods, dodging around a hole in the path. “He’s a complicated man.”

That, Stede can agree with, but he’d phrase it in quite the opposite tone to Izzy, because Ed is complicated, yes. Fascinating, wonderful, brave, fierce, and difficult, yes, in the sense that he will not be cowed by those trying to push him down. “Well, I suppose the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that.”

“You’re not my friend, Bonnet.”

He doesn’t know why he ever hopes for more. “Then an ally, at least.”

Izzy nods. “We’re on the same side.” And then he draws to a stop in front of one of the trees that’s showing the distinct signs of leaf death up in the canopy, recognises it instantly. Looks back at Nigel and Banes. “Have you seen this?”

Nigel’s there a moment later, frowning at the bark like it’s personally insulted him. “It’s a tree.”

“It is indeed a tree,” Stede says flatly, feeling something in his soul withering with it all. His entire career has been spent working for management sorts who don’t have the first clue about the environment. They’re not passionate about it at all. For all of his many faults, Izzy is as passionate about it as the rest of the crew.

Izzy slaps the trunk now. “Normal cycles of leaf loss. Something that happens in spaces like these, when the canopy gets too close together, combines with other specimens to block out the light and the view.” He’s staring intently at Stede as he says it. “A rotten branch has got to come off.”

And that’s—well. That’s a lot to process. All right. Stede thinks he sees the metaphor, because he’s not talking about this perfectly innocent. “The ones that bully their way past the other trees,” Stede says. “Or try to.”

“Those are the ones,” Izzy says. “Until you clear those out of the way, it’s impossible to see clearly what’s happening under the canopy.”

“Are you… are you suggesting we need to log this place instead of preserve it?” Banes looks dubious, turns to Nigel. “I thought the intention was to shine it all up for the public. Let them see what a very good job we’re doing in charge of such things.”

“That is indeed the plan,” Nigel says, already looking bored. “We show them what they want to see. For the benefit of the environment, of course!”

They’ve made themselves the authorities, haven’t they? They may as well be with the kind of wealth the Carmody organisation has, because Stede knows exactly how much weight the government is likely to give any environmental concerns when there’s money involved.

“How much land does Carmody own?” Stede’s been curious about that for a bit, but he’s not had the opportunity to check.

Banes laughs blithely. “Oh, a bit here and there.”

“Here?”

“Yes, well, this land. And the land next door, and next door to that, and…” He gives a modest little wave. “Yes, I suppose we do own a bit of this area, I suppose.”

What for? “Petroleum resources must be more widespread than I realised.”

“You can’t put all your eggs in one basket,” Banes says, wagging a finger. “We’ve got a lot of different pots on the boil.”

“Mixed metaphors,” Stede says. “Wouldn’t want anything to hatch in the soup.”

Banes offers no further detail about what exactly they are trying to find here. Nigel just laughs. “Well, I don’t think there are any problems here at all, do you, Hands?” He waves in the general direction of the trees. “I see plenty of greenery here. All looks very healthy to me. What was it you thought you’d found, Bonnet?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he says, quite truthfully. It’s the presence of the leaf death along with the absence of any specific identifiable causes that tells him exactly how wrong things are going here. “Incidental findings from a few of the other environments, but I’m sure it’ll all come out in the wash.”

Banes stares at him for a bit longer, no longer quite so flighty, and his gaze is unsettling. “I always wanted to be an ecologist,” he says quite suddenly. “Loved to get out into the wilderness.”

“Did you?” He doesn’t seem the type at all. “Perhaps you should have pursued it.”

“Oh, yes, well, my father’s grounds were very extensive. Lots of lawn for croquet and such forth.”

The wilderness, good lord. Stede’s surrounded by it here, the thrum of the earth’s heartbeat beneath his feet, in the trees, in the birds that sing and the wind that weaves between them. He doubts that Banes feels any of it. “Good thing there’s plenty for you to see out here, then.”

“I think we’ve seen enough,” Nigel says, and when his gaze pivots to Stede, it’s cold. “Unless there’s anything you haven’t mentioned?” He steps a little closer. “Because I must remind you, Shuttlecock always makes a promise to their clients.”

“No stone left unturned,” Stede says, through gritted teeth. It’s the one thing he’s absolutely planning on fulfilling.

Nigel gives a tight smile. “And a satisfactory outcome that allows all plans to carry on to fruition.”

“Unless any obstacles are found along the way, in which case mitigation first.” He pivots to Banes again. “But your intentions with this place are purely restoration, aren’t they?”

“Oh, probably!” He’s very cheery, despite the busted nose. “It all depends.”

“On what?”

He turns his face up to the canopy, eyes a watery blue in the light. “On whether we locate anything interesting in the area. On whether all this is salvageable.”

“Very salvageable,” Stede says, and for the first time, finally wonders if that’s not actually the answer they’re looking for. “I think we’re all agreed on that.”

“I suppose so,” Banes says. “I’ll look forward to your report.”

Stede’s brain is whirling again, all the gears clicking into action. “All right. We’ve got another week here, I think, and—“

“Surely you’ve collected all you need?” Nigel’s voice is sharp again. “We gave you up to a month, I imagine three weeks should be ample. Unless you’ve been… otherwise occupied.”

Stede can feel his face shifting into what must be a very revealing expression indeed, and he attempts to school it back to something benign. “Working very hard, of course”

“Of course.” His smirk sends Stede’s stomach dropping. “Wouldn’t want to have to enact any HR processes if not.”

“I’m sure.” It feels like a threat. A very direct threat. And it’s quite rapidly sliding from cold fear in Stede’s gut to white hot anger. “We’ve still got a few more avenues of investigation to dig into, but of course we’ll be as quick as we can.”

“Glad to hear it,” Banes says, and then he gestures to the forest. “Speaking of, shall we take a shortcut? I’d like to get a look at that mountain before we go.”

He’s off into the undergrowth like a weasel, Badminton right behind him, before Stede can suggest that it’s by no means a shortcut at all, just call out after them, “Watch out for eye-level sticks!”

Izzy sighs bodily behind him. “You go with them, I’ll find my way back on actual solid ground.”

Stede turns back to look at him. “What was that? What do they want from us?”

“They want you to report that there’s nothing illegal happening here, but they seem to want you to find that it’s fucked anyway.”

“So I’m gathering. Because…”

Izzy sighs again. “Because there’s something under here that they want.”

“Right.” Right, he can see that possibility, it’s just… Wait. Surrounded by trees, the thought hits him quite suddenly, and he doesn’t know why it didn’t occur to him before. He spins to look at Izzy. “Do you watch Tree Change?”

Izzy groans a little, maybe even rolls his eyes a touch. “No.”

Stede just raises a brow, because he’s always been dubious about people who don’t gel with the pure queer environmental joy of the show.

Izzy scuffs the dirt with his prosthetic foot. “Fine, maybe I do.”

Oh, he sees it perfectly clearly. “You’re in it for Keith, aren’t you? You’re a Keithatic.”

“Valid way to watch,” Izzy grits out. “He’s a relatable character.”

As they’ve certainly noticed, he just hadn’t been aware that Izzy had noticed, too. “Right, well. You’ll know what I mean, then. Season one, episode five. Old Growth, New Leaf.”

“The one with the forest,” Izzy says. “And the… and the influencer.”

He says it like it’s a poisoned concept, and Stede can only agree. “They’re called out to a forest where there’s logging happening, because there’s a noisy protest online. Supposed to clear it all, tell everyone that it’s above board. Correct the protestors and validate the company. And they do clear it. It is fine. But.”

“Next door,” Izzy says, and they both swivel to look at the same time, in the direction of the mountain. “In that episode, they’re logging old-growth forest next door, illegally, and everything on the first property is actually intended to be a distraction.”

“Fuck,” Stede says, because suddenly it feels so obvious. “We need to look next door.”

“Owned by Carmody, too, he just said.”

“We don’t have access. We’ve been told not to go there.”

Izzy grins, shark-like. “Eco-pirates don’t care for fucking fence lines.”

Is that what they are now, officially? He supposes the line is about to be crossed, in more ways than one. “This is it, isn’t it? We’re going to need everyone out here to get this done before they’re onto us. Will you come as well?”

Izzy doesn’t even hesitate. “Course. Can’t stand those fuckers.”

In the show, in that episode, they’d confirmed the connection by destroying equipment on the secret site, which interrupted the legitimate work on the other site. And more than that, they’d finally learned for the first time that their boss and Tāne’s mentor Grayson Maxwell was directly involved in the conspiracy. The very next episode had blown it all wide open, because Tāne hadn’t been willing to believe it, but the crew had found evidence of double payments being made by the companies that Maxwell was secretly protecting.

“That’s going to exist, isn’t it?” he says, and Izzy looks at him curiously before he realises he only said half of what he was thinking. “Evidence. In the office. Of what’s going on. We’re going to need that.”

“Ed will know what to do.” Izzy claps a hand on his shoulder, a little too hard. “Listen to him, yeah? And… let him know he’s not alone in this.”

Because he has been, in the past, Stede knows. Because he can’t be, this time. He won’t be. “He’s not. Never.”

“It’s important,” Izzy says seriously. “You’re good for him. If ever that changed—“

“It won’t,” Stede says firmly, stubbornly. “This is us now.”

Before he can say anything else, there’s a blood-curdling scream from within the forest. They only have time to glance at each other before they take off running.

~

It’s been a day. Nigel’s been taken off to the hospital for an assessment on his eye—didn’t listen to the advice, did indeed walk directly into an ill-placed stick. They’ve all left, and it’s just Stede and Ed again. Stede’s never in his life been as relieved to see Ed as he was when he pulled their truck up beside the car at the wetland to break the news of the injury. He’d wanted Mary to stay, but she’d told him she was fine going back with the rest. But she’d squeezed his hand on the way past, kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “Ed can explain.”

So now he gets to take Ed home to their cabin for what might be the last time, as the last of the light leaches out of the sky.

They don’t speak. There’s a Johnny Flynn song floating out of the car stereo as they pull up outside the cabin. The Water, a duet with Laura Marling’s haunting harmony, long one of Stede’s favourites. He sits for a long time with his hands on the wheel, and Ed’s silent beside him as the lyrics fill the air in their leading man’s tones.

All that I have is a river

The river is always my home

Lord, take me away

For I just cannot stay

Or I'll sink in my skin and my bones

“This really is it, isn’t it?” he says softly. “The tipping point.”

He looks across to Ed, who’s rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, might be.”

The tipping point is the environmental moment where all the factors come together and the change trips into existence, all forward motion. It’s the too late moment, no coming back. They’d known, they had, that there was something going on here. But it’s never been clearer than today.

“We need to call the crew back,” Stede says. “All of them. D’you think they’ll come?”

Ed’s expression is unreadable, some mix of hope and fear. “Think they’d do anything for you.”

“And for you!” Stede says indignantly. “They love you, Ed. They’re family.”

“They are.” He scrapes that hand down over his beard and sighs. “I don’t want to put them in danger.”

“They’re already in danger.” That much is clear, because the tendrils have felt like they’re creeping into all of their lives now, and the moment Mary arrived here today, that became an absolute fact. This is going to reach into their work, their personal connections. “There’s safety in numbers. If we’re all in it together, we can coordinate. We can fight back.”

Please help me build a small boat

One that'll ride on the flow

Where the river runs deep

And the larger fish creep

I'm glad of what keeps me afloat

Ed nods to the speakers. “Keep thinking about Johnny, and everything he’s into.”

Johnny Flynn, the star of Tree Change. Many-threat, writer, actor, beloved folk singer and songwriter, and he’s been turning his powers more and more toward environmental protest these past few years. Stede tends to find himself gravitating more toward Alex in terms of attraction, which makes sense, given how closely he associates the man with Ed. Or perhaps it’s more the character of Tāne than Alex himself, given how completely he folds into that role and disappears. They’ve had this conversation before, and Ed’s a committed all of them guy, the actors and the characters, where Stede struggles to see Rupert as fully appealing, which probably says a lot about his own self-esteem given how closely he identifies with the character.

Johnny, though. Johnny’s become a genuine hero of his over the past few years, utterly committed in real life to the same principles he plays in his role as Rupert. And Ed’s equally enamoured, because who isn’t?

“He’s amazing,” Stede says mildly. He is, in so many ways. It’s not only the brilliance of his writing, his acting, his gorgeous voice. It’s also what he means to Stede, as someone who’s never quite felt like he fitted in. Johnny’s famously got that significant scar across his face from a dog attack as a child, and it’s not just accepted, it’s part of his appeal. He’s talked before about his undiagnosed ADHD, and there’s no question that comes through in Rupert’s famous hyperfocus and his easy distractibility, much the way Tāne’s neurodivergent tendencies also shine, in ways that Stede knows speak to Ed as much as they do to him. Johnny’s kind, everyone who’s worked with him says.

He’s also pulled in his personal commitment to the environment throughout his career, until the two are barely separable. From playing an environmental activist in an early stage play to crafting a whole album about the destruction of a forest much like this one in Lost in the Cedar Wood, he’s time and again put climate change and the natural world in front of audiences, and Stede adores him for it.

Now the land that I knew is a dream

And the line on the distance grows faint

So wide is my river

The horizon a sliver

The artist has run out of paint

It’s not that anyone has to embody the characters they’re playing. It’s acting, after all. It’s just that… it’s hard to fully separate the real person from the character, when there are so many points in common. Johnny has also talked about his difficult childhood, the bullying he endured, the shaky home life moving from place to place, and god, it’s no wonder that Stede relates so hard to everything he’s putting into the similar elements of Rupert’s background.

He can hardly put his finger on what’s spinning through his mind, but then, of course, Ed says it for him. “Feels kinda like… we’re in the same boat, you know? We’re just… us. But we’re here, at the front of whatever’s happening. And we could let it go, we could walk away, or…”

“Or we could stand for something wise,” Stede says, choking up at how real the show’s motto suddenly feels. “We could be who we need to be, make a difference.”

“We already do.” Ed reaches out with a closed fist, and Stede bumps it. “To the canopy and beyond.”

“Together.”

The song’s still lingering in his head as they slide out of the truck, just in time for the clouds to burst open, spilling water out of the sky. Ed jogs around, but Stede just turns his face up to it, letting the drops strike him at will, and Ed stops. Comes over. Yells, “Coming inside?”

He shakes his head a touch desperately. “Not yet.”

No, he… wants to be out here, in nature, feeling the force of it rain down over him. The miracle that is this ecosystem, where the water cycles from ground to sky and back again, evaporation, condensation, precipitation. Feeding the plants as the sun streams down to give them energy, as the soil breaks down, as the animals live and die and cycle back through over and over.

Every person in the world is part of it, this existence that’s carried on for an unimaginable magnitude of time before them, and will continue long after they’re gone. No force on earth has ever been as destructive as humanity.

No living creature has ever been so innovative, either. Not one has ever had the capacity to care so much about others, about this incredible world they’re so lucky to be in for this brief glimmer of time.

And yes, maybe not enough people do care, but some do, at least. He and Ed and the crew, they care with an intensity that shapes Stede’s days, every thought in his head, even the ones that pertain to this television show that so clearly depicts passion for the exact same thing, beams it out into the wider world.

The show ties it inextricably to love, for each other, for the planet.

That’s why it matters.

Where the blue of the sea meets the sky

And the big yellow sun leads me home

I'm everywhere now

The way is a vow

To the wind of each breath by and by

“Stede? You okay?” Ed has to yell it over the rain as it picks up and pelts, and Stede puts his head back and laughs, god, all of a sudden something’s cracking inside him, breaking open.

He reaches out for Ed, catches the front of his shirt, and hauls him in for a rough kiss. Ed slips a little, pushes him back against the side of the truck, and then his hand’s sliding up behind Stede’s neck and he’s kissing him just as fiercely as the rain pours down their faces.

The water sustains me without even trying

The water can't drown me, I'm done

With my dying

He’s done. He’s done, he’s entirely done with whatever his life has been to this point, walking the line, letting the things he wants pass him by. He wants to fight.

“It’s been a great day,” he shouts back, and Ed’s brows twist together. “It has.” He yanks Ed closer, hands still fisted in the fabric of his shirt. “Every day I spend with you is a good day.”

That’ll be true tomorrow, as the team comes in and they start to plan… whatever it is they’ll be doing here. It’ll be true the next day, and the next, no matter what’s coming for them. They’re going to meet it head on, because Stede has more than the whole world to fight for now.

He has Ed. And Ed, well. Ed is everything.

~

The rest of the night stretches out long, and Ed presses himself tight alongside Stede as both of them hunch over the computer, flicking through the files Mary had given him. They’re sitting on the floor, the laptop open on the coffee table. They've talked through everything that's happened to day, all the weird and threatening shit Ned said, all the weird cryptic bullshit from Badminton and Banes, and now they're left with whatever this is.

“I don’t understand what we’re looking at,” Stede says. “Is this… payroll?”

“Supplier accounts, I reckon.” A bunch of names, companies, individuals, orders, fuck knows. "Invoices from clients."

They continue to scroll, because nothing looks out of order, but neither of them know what they’re looking for. “Mary just said she grabbed as much as she could from the server, in case there was anything on there. There might not be anything relevant.”

“And we don’t even know what we want. We need someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing,” Ed says with a groan. His back’s sore. His ass is sore, even sitting on the cushion Stede insisted he put down. His neck hurts, his head hurts, and he’s really fucking over all of this.

“Jackie,” Stede says quite suddenly, whipping to look at him. “Jackie would know.”

The manager of accounting, right, yeah. “Maybe if you hadn’t insulted her plant so much.”

Stede rubs both hands over his face, looks like he’s maybe on the edge of crying. “Shit. I didn’t think about that.”

Ed bumps their shoulders together. “I’m kidding. Might be she’s on their side anyway and it won’t matter.” But Ed reckons she’s with them, actually. He’s known Jackie for fucking years, and she’s fierce as hell. Doesn’t have any shits to give about the dickheads in management. But he’s going to need to have that conversation in person to be sure. “We’re going to have to go back to town to get some of this done.”

“Yeah?”

He doesn’t exactly want to leave this place, either, not that they can stay forever. Stede’s told him that Badminton’s already pushing them toward the door. “We can stay at my place, if you want.”

And that was worth it for the look on Stede’s face, suddenly soft and hopeful. “Can we?”

“You’ve stayed at my place before.”

Stede nods thoughtfully. “Mm, and the whole time was spent desperately hoping I could find the courage to tell you my feelings, and then… failing.”

“You could’ve.” Ed strokes his hair away from his forehead. “Fuck, I should have just kissed you years ago. I was just… scared. Of losing this.”

Stede presses closer against him. “I was scared. What we had was so good.”

“Even better now.” Now that Ed can cup his chin and lean in and slot their lips together, feel Stede’s sigh of relief against his mouth. “Only going to keep getting better.”

Stede leans his forehead against Ed’s, and his next breath is shaky. “I’m still scared, Ed. I’m just scared of different things now.”

“It’s going to be all right.” He loops an arm around Stede’s shoulders, pulls him even closer. “Bet Izzy could teach you how to throw a punch in two days.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Would I get to punch him, or would he get to punch me?”

“Dunno, you have to be quick to dodge ol’ Iz dog, but—"

“I did sign up for the fencing team at school,” Stede says brightly.

“Any good at it?”

His face falls again. “Not especially, no.”

Ed shouldn’t be laughing right now, but he can’t help it. He’s wheezing at first, and then he’s full blown chuckling, nose pressed to Stede’s neck, the two of them nearly entwined on the floor. “Don’t think we’ll have too many swords going out here.” He presses a kiss to Stede’s cheek, sighs. Hates to even ask it. “Ever fired a gun?”

Stede jerks back, eyes wide. “No? Should I know how to do that? Edward, do you have a gun?”

“Not on me,” he says, because that’s a whole other conversation. “Could probably get one.”

He can't even look at Stede's expression, at the horror that's probably on there. Just stares at the peeling wood of the coffee table instead while Stede says, “I think we’ll just… stick to battling with our wits, maybe. For now.”

“Good plan." Definitely a better plan. "You messaged everyone on your side?”

He nods. “Already got a lot of replies. I think you’re right, I think they’ll come good.”

Ed lets his head drop back onto the edge of the sofa, stares up at the roof. “That’s because they’re all bored. Everyone wants to live a little Tree Change.” That'd been them before this month, writing about it, joking about it. This month, roleplaying it at times, but they've never been seriously in it before, and Ed's not sure they want that. Because over the last three seasons, Rupert and Tāne have been through just about every possible thing, and they haven't always come out of it unbroken.

Stede's just as quiet, probably thinking the same things. “We’ll be all right, won’t we? All of us?”

There's only one option. “Not letting them win. Not for anything. We're going to be fine.”

~

The whole crew does come out the next day, arriving in succession over half an hour. Everyone they’ve had out so far has come back, and Ed’s pretty fucking grateful as he stands on the porch and looks out over the collection of vehicles and familiar faces. There’s a real crowd, all here because they asked, all ready to jump in boots first.

“So that’s the plan!” Stede says, having just talked it all through, waving the map around. “Questions?”

Archie’s hand goes up, and she doesn’t wait to be called on, stony-faced. “Sounds like a suicide mission.”

Stede huffs. “It’s only suicide... if we die.”

“Career suicide, maybe,” Izzy grits out, and looks around the assembled group. “It’s about belonging to something. You want to work for these fuckers, or stand for something real?”

Jim’s the first one to raise their fist. “To the canopy and beyond.”

The cheer goes up as one, and Stede sags against Ed with relief, and he knows, all of a sudden, that they’re going to be okay.

~

It’s a long day of working out the plan, sending people in different directions for reconnaissance. Zheng’s got a boat moored off the beach as promised, and she’s going to be diving in the morning, searching for subterranean caves. Auntie and Izzy have inspected the other side of the mountain and found evidence of further passages there. Everyone’s moved into a new mode of evidence gathering, getting the last information they need to really crack this thing open.

They cross the fence line around sunset, after Pete sends up a drone to scan the property, checking for any security. It’s pretty empty, for now. No other people present, no equipment, no signs of activity at all.

“Going to be easy to argue that we got lost in the dark if we get called out,” Ed says, as they get to work setting up their tents, Stede pulling the other side of the polyester shelter straight. “But I don’t think they’re expecting us.”

They never do, too caught up in their own villain story. Ed’s going to use that to his advantage.

They could have stayed at the cabin tonight, left everyone to it, but they’re part of the team, and so they’re here with everyone else. And that’s the difference, because they’ve got their own story, and it’s about all of them. About belonging to something when the world’s told you that you’re nothing, he’s heard that from Izzy before, but it’s never been more powerful than tonight.

They get themselves properly settled, after another hour of fucking around. There’s a roaring fire built into the dirt, camp chairs dragged up in a circle beside it, franks cooking on sticks over the flames. Frenchie strums his lute; everyone sings along, and the atmosphere’s fucking lovely in the warm glow. At one point he hits a familiar tune, and before anyone else can sing, it’s Izzy shushing them all, telling them to pipe down, before he starts to sing it himself.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose…

Ed stares at him as his usual rasp gives way to a fucking lovely melodic voice, mouth almost hanging open as Izzy sings about love and magic and a rose-coloured life. At one point his gaze strays across and connects with Ed’s, and there’s a jolt of recognition there in the second before Izzy cuts away to look at John instead.

He swallows it down, all the same questions Tāne’s been asking himself about Keith. Could it ever have been different? He loved Iz, best he could, which was to say not in the way Izzy maybe hoped for, but there’s nothing Ed can change about that. Love’s still a fucking mystery to him, and maybe it always will be.

All he knows is, the minute he set eyes on Stede, he understood in a whole sudden rush what every song, every poem, every artwork was talking about. Like the whole universe opened up in front of him for the first time in his life, and he’s been floating somewhere up around the stars ever since.

Said stars are a splashed arc of brightness above them now, out here away from light pollution. Stede’s snuggled in under his arm on a picnic blanket, one fleece throw wrapped around the both of them. Archie and Jim and Oluwande are swaying together as Izzy sings, Roach and Fang are dancing just outside the circle of firelight, and Lucius and Pete—who just told everyone they got engaged on the weekend, fucking good for them—are sandwiched into one chair making out like their lives depend on it. Whatever hate is out there, there’s love everywhere here tonight. They’re surrounded by it, right in the whirling centre of it.

Stede follows Ed’s gaze and huffs out a little laugh at the sight of Pete’s chair getting close and closer to folding, and when he looks up at Ed his eyes catch the warm glow of the firelight, and Ed lifts his brow.

A question, yeah. They’re squeezed in here together, nobody can possibly have a fucking doubt about them anymore.

But they’ve never just—given into it. Shown them all. Izzy’s song fades away into the last lingering words.

Stede’s leaning in, and all right, yeah. Ed leans to meet him, and their lips slide together with a whisper of air, a second before Stede’s hand slips up into his hair, and he tilts his head. Suddenly it’s a little desperate as it all comes flooding out. The danger, the fear, the uncertainty, the need, fuck, he needs Stede right now, and he’s regretting the shit out of saying they’d camp here.

“Tent,” Stede gasps out, as Ed breaks away from him. “I’m very… tired.”

Mary’s on the other side of him, and she lets out a snort. “Fuck, you two are subtle.”

Ed narrows his eyes at her, because yeah, a decade of loveless marriage is gonna do that to a man. “We should all turn in, actually. Early start.”

Everyone’s watching, some of them far less subtly than others, but they’re smiling secretly to each other, hand on hearts, lips bitten. There’s just pure joy on all of their faces, for Ed and Stede, for them together. Lucius looks up from kissing Pete’s face for long enough to wave. “Oh, go, break in that tent, we’ll keep.”

Ed can feel Stede’s hand tensing in his under the shared blanket, and he can see how this is going to go. That’s got to be too much for Stede, so soon into this. They’re gonna have to wait until the entire crew is done with their songs and their s’mores and their laughter and chat, and Ed’s probably going to die from all his blood going out of his brain and into his cock.

But Stede’s always surprising him, never more than lately. And he stands suddenly, letting the blanket fall from their shoulders, and while Ed’s still blinking up at him, reaches down and says, “Shall we?”

He lets Stede yank him up off the ground—those quietly solid fucking biceps are going to be the end of Ed—and throws a glare around the circle, but they’re all just leaning into each other, happy. Even Iz throws him an amused little salute that makes a laugh trip out of Ed’s mouth, and a second later Stede’s hauling him off toward the dim reaches of their tent, twenty feet outside the circle.

“See you guys,” is all he manages to get out before he’s stumbling off over the rocky ground. Stede doesn’t even look back, just determined as fuck, and Christ, it’s setting Ed’s blood on fire.

But he’s Stede. He’s still Stede. They get to the tent and he goes to unzip it, and he can’t find the tabs. Curses under his breath, rattling the tent flap with increasing frustration, until Ed presses in close behind him, kissing his neck, arms wrapped around his waist and sliding down.

“Lower,” he murmurs, right against Stede’s earlobe. “Gotta find the bottom.”

He feels the shiver that runs through Stede, and he lets out a whimper. Bends right down, gets hold of that zipper, and shoves his ass directly into Ed’s crotch as he does, giving Ed all the chance he needs to take hold of Stede’s hips and grind against him a little. The zipper makes a drawn-out sound as it rises, and fuck, the noise is going to carry here, isn’t it? Just a thin little layer of polyester between them and all their friends, but Stede’s all but stumbled inside the tent now, and he turns around and yanks Ed inside by the front of his shirt.

Trips backwards, tumbles into the air mattress and the sleeping bags, hauling Ed down on top of him. Ed lands with the air punched out of him by Stede’s solid chest, shoving up in a tangle of limbs, already apologising.

But Stede’s just wheezing with silent laughter as he tries to catch his breath, and fuck, he’s gorgeous like this. In the dim light of the solar lantern in the corner, his hair glows even more gold, his eyes catching sparks, every laugh line on his face crinkled.

The longer they stare at each other, the more the laughter fades, until Stede takes a shuddering breath and whispers, strained, “Ed. Zip us in, please. Hurry.”

He groans a little as he does as he’s told, crawling back up to pull the zip down, cutting off the last sight of the campfire, surrounded by the shadows of their friends. They’re singing out there again, Fleetwood Mac this time, everyone laughing between verses. They’re out here for the most serious shit, and tomorrow might be pretty fucking scary. But tonight they’re together, and they will be through all of this, watching each other’s backs, making each other happy.

Nobody makes him happier than Stede. He turns back, unzipping his hoodie, and finds Stede sitting up in the soft nest of fabric, already stripped to the waist, just watching him.

Suddenly everything else melts away. The night, the others, the problems, the prompt list, everything is gone but them, here in this space together.

“Turn off the light,” he growls, because that’s a shadow show nobody needs, the pair of them moving against the bright screen of a lit-from-within tent.

Stede lets out his breath, and reaches one long arm over to hit the button on the lantern, plunging them right away into darkness. Ed peels off the sweater and the shirt beneath, ignoring the cold, the way his skin pebbles instantly. He shimmies out of his jeans and boots and socks while he’s at it, shoving it all aside to crawl up over the blankets to find Stede.

It’s not difficult, even without a hint of light, because Stede’s like a fucking beacon of warmth as he wriggles his own trousers down. Ed gets to his legs just as Stede manages to shove them to mid-thigh, and he gets hold of the fabric and pulls it the rest of the way. Stede’s thighs fall open, and he reaches up to pull Ed down between, engulfing him with warmth as Ed slides up over him.

It’s easy in the dark, like they can let go of every conscious thought and just move together. Hot skin from the point where their mouths meet, hungry and gasping, down every inch of their chests, their bellies, to the point where their cocks slide together.

“Ed,” Stede whispers in his ear, almost a sob. “I need you inside me. Please. Please.”

Fucking desperate for it, god, Ed can hear the need in his voice. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, kissing all over Stede’s face until he finds his lips, open and panting. He brought lube, he just has to—nope, slapping around beside the mattress doesn’t help. He doesn’t want to turn on the lantern again, he just—

“Spitting,” Stede gasps out, rutting up against him. “It’s the prompt today, that and—“

“Semi-public,” Ed says, and starts to chuckle, trying to keep it as silent as he can, but fuck. “Set that up pretty fucking impressively, didn’t we?”

Called out the whole team, had everyone set themselves up out there as an audience, then came into this flimsy little tent to fuck.

Stede’s rummaging between them now, reaching down, and he gets hold of Ed’s wrist and pulls his arm back up. Sucks Ed’s fingers into his mouth in a way that makes Ed groan, laving his tongue over them. “Spitting,” he whispers again.

“Doesn’t work quite as well in reality as it does in fics, Stede.”

“I don’t care.”

“I care. Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Try me.” He can’t see Stede’s face, but he can hear the defiance in his voice. “Go on, let’s see.”

He wants Stede, is the thing. More than he knew it was possible to want anyone, god, he’s just achingly hard right now. He lets Stede suck his fingers a little longer, feels the warm wetness all around, until there’s spit dripping down his wrist. And then he pulls them free and says, “Minute it hurts even a fucking bit, we’re gonna stop and I’ll find that lube, okay?”

Stede nods, bumping their foreheads together. “Okay.”

He trails back down between them until he can make his way between Stede’s legs, finds his crack, and a second later his hole. Slips in one spit-slicked finger, and Stede thrashes a little under him, already huffing. His cock has softened between them, but Ed slides down and takes him in his mouth while he keeps pressing inside. And it’s easy, compared to how it was at first. Stede’s body just opens up to him now, so used to it that it makes him kinda emotional.

He only has to pause for long enough to spit more onto his fingers, and then he gets a second inside, and Stede moans so loudly that there’s no way they can miss it out there.

“Maybe they’ll think it’s the wind,” Stede gasps out, reading his mind. “Might be an owl.”

Ed chuckles, crooks his fingers just right, scrapes over that bundle of nerves and makes Stede shout. “Yeah, mate, might be the frogs. Might be a cryptid.”

“I’m very normal,” Stede says, a little bitchy. “Please, Ed, I need you to—“

“All right, all right.” He slips his fingers out, and yeah, okay, there was something kinda hot about going full Brokeback there, so desperate for a fuck that he could almost go in dry and Stede would take it. Take whatever he had to give, beg for more, he needs Ed that much. “Turn over for me.”

Stede does, making the air mattress bounce as he rolls over, and Ed pitches sideways and lands with his hands on the exact bag he was looking for, his trusty old rucksack. Even in the dark he can find the pocket he’s looking for, get out the lube, squeeze it over his fingers and cover his cock with it. He squeezes out a last bit and goes back to Stede, who’s splayed out across the mattress, humping into his own fist.

“Fuck, look at you. Or, I dunno, sense you.” He can barely see, just enough outline, taking in all the other senses instead. The creak of that mattress under them, the stony ground hard under his knee where he’s putting that much concentrated weight. The sound of Stede’s breath hitching, every muscle in his thighs bunching as he squirms. “I’ve got you.”

He presses his now-lubed fingers back inside Stede’s soft heat, and he moans into the pillow, loud enough for it to vibrate through the air mattress and into Ed’s knees, which in turn travels directly to his dick. Stede’s open, he’s ready, and Ed lines himself up, holds Stede’s hips as he pushes inside, and lets out his own groan.

“God, yes,” Stede slurs. “You belong right there.”

Right there, shoved as deep as he can go inside Stede’s body, feeling the pulse of him from the inside. He thrusts a couple of times, feels the mattress bowing with each one, and decides to slide to lie down over Stede, chest pressed to broad back as he slides himself home again, slow thrusts that make Stede cry out each time, barely muffled.

He really doesn’t care, does he? Almost fucking wants them to know what they’re doing here, and Ed gets it. Wants to give him that freedom to just fucking be who he is, unhidden, unworried, no fucks given about Badminton and anyone else who’d get in their way.

He angles himself deeper and starts fucking Stede harder, shoving him into the mattress, making him cry out properly. So fucking good here in the dark, just the tangle of their legs and the drag of their skin and the deep, clutching heat of Stede as he gets toward the edge then goes tight, moaning Ed’s name into the pillow as Ed follows him over.

He slips out, slides over and tugs Stede flush against him, belly to belly. They’re both sweaty, sticky, big fucking wet patch on the sleeping bag, but it doesn’t matter. In the distance he’s pretty sure he can hear Lucius wolf-whistling, but they’re gonna ignore that.

Stede’s hands are in his hair again, pulling his face flush, kissing him. “I love you,” he’s saying, like he’s running out of time. “I love you so much.”

“I know. I know.” He kisses Stede for a bit longer, until his breathing calms a little. Reaches back for the bundle of clothing and pulls it up, manages to wrestle Stede into a sweater, zips himself into his hoodie. There’s a lot more shuffling and jiggling to get sweatpants on, but they’ll regret it later if they don’t.

He bundles them both inside the sleeping bag and zips it up around them, forming a little Ed and Stede cocoon.

“Ed,” Stede whispers. “Are you really Blackbeard?”

All he can do is laugh. “Yeah, mate, that’s me.”

He’s silent for a bit, and then instead of asking a single fucking question about a single fucking thing Ed’s known for he says, kinda gleeful, “The Golden Age of Piracy was the right choice for that story. Maybe Tāne was Blackbeard all along.”

“How about that, huh?”

Sometimes, no matter what you’re trying to think of consciously, the story finds you instead.

He drifts off to sleep wrapped up in Stede’s arms, ready to face whatever’s coming in the morning.

Chapter Text

Stede wakes to light streaming through the tent, amplified to a far-too-bright orange by the polyester shell. He squints down to find that Ed’s wrapped around him in the sleeping bag, hair in his face, both of them tangled and sticky, and he lets his head drop back to the pillow and huffs out a quiet laugh.

This is everything he ever wanted, but gosh, he didn’t anticipate this being part of it. Out there, the whole crew are camping in their own tents, about to break open a conspiracy that might well reach all the way up the family tree.

He has the vague understanding that everything about his life is quite probably about to change, and he’s deeply not ready for that. Not at all.

But no matter what, he’s doing it with Ed. He didn’t anticipate that, either, but he’s very ready for it, and if the two things are part and parcel, then yes. He can abandon his life in favour of a new one with Ed, fighting back against the people who damage the environment. He can very much do that.

Ed starts to stir, snorting a little as he rolls back, and his arm flails out and hits the side of the tent, making him jerk with surprise.

“Shh, shh, hey, I’ve got you.” Stede reels him back in and squeezes him tight. “I’m here.”

Ed blinks up at him, eyes lit warmly by the morning sun, and he smiles. “Hey,” he says thickly.

“Hello.”

He doesn’t get to say anything else, because Ed leans up instantly and kisses him, and before long they both sink into the slow slide of their tongues together, a flashing reminder of last night, of Ed buried deep inside him, right here. And Ed’s obviously thinking the same, because he rolls his hips against Stede’s, and their cocks nudge together, both already hard. “D’you wanna…”

The answer to that will, Stede’s moderately sure, never be no. They’re both bare under their sweatpants, and it takes no time for Ed to pull him free, or for Stede to do the same. Kissing each other on and on as they move slowly, building from a gentle stroke to a rougher one, panting into each other’s mouths.

“Rise and shine, you reprobates!” Mary’s voice cuts through sharply from outside the tent. “Places to go, people to see!”

If there’s any bucket of water quite like his ex-wife catching him in the middle of pulling off his boyfriend, Stede’s not sure what it is, at least not until Izzy’s voice joins the chorus. “Other boats to dock, gentlemen!”

Ed thunks their foreheads together, wheezing with laughter. “Fuck, all right. I guess we’d better get out before we get the whole procession.”

And walk out there with his cock bulging in his trousers, his needs unmet? Stede narrows his eyes. “Start counting backwards from sixty.”

He slides down into the sleeping bag, locates Ed’s cock, and takes it in his mouth. Ed lets out a startled gasp, but a second later he’s thrusting into Stede’s mouth as Stede goes to town sucking him off. Ed only makes it down to an increasingly hoarse twenty before he comes. Stede’s still swallowing when Ed yanks him up and kisses the taste of himself out of Stede’s mouth, plenty of tongue, and then shoves him down onto the mattress before sliding down to return the favour.

They’re sated and somewhat respectable and out of the tent perhaps five minutes later at most, and Lucius meets them beside the campfire with two cups of steaming tea and a grin. “Good morning, captains.”

“Fuck off,” Ed mutters, and Stede just laughs, because he can. He can! They all know now, and they’re all so happy that the two of them have finally got their act together.

He nudges Ed cheerfully and says, “A very good morning… for catching some villains!”

Lucius rolls his eyes and groans, flips him a middle finger as he sashays back to where Pete’s poking the morning fire.

It takes another half hour for everyone to eat their breakfast, but soon enough they’ve all gathered together again. Lucius is holding the tablet, and Pete’s got the drone’s control, sending it back up into the air. This time they’re focussed on the mountain, and they all cluster around the screen as it hovers, watching the video feed.

“There,” Auntie says, pointing to a spot at the base of the mountain where the rocks are concave, collapsing in on themselves in a barely visible depression. “I’ll bet you it’s there.”

Stede nods, looking out across the gathered group of experts and friends as Pete brings the drone back in. “Right. Well. Roach, you’ll go with Auntie to inspect that.” The geologist nods, eyes a little wild, jaw set. Stede turns to his ex-wife. “Mary, you as well? I think your soil expertise feels essential there, too.” She goes over to stand with Roach. “And Wee John, in case there’s any chemical analysis you can do on the spot.” Stede turns to Ed. “What next?”

“The water,” Ed says, tapping the map. “We need Zheng down there diving; I’m going with. Jim, you’re with us too, and Frenchie for logistics.”

The only two other people on the team who can dive; Ed has, of course, been certified for years for his water work, though now that Stede thinks about it, he supposes there are probably much more daring things Ed’s been involved in than he’s ever realised. He hopes this won’t be daring. Jim’s been diving recreationally for years, and was quick to volunteer yesterday when Zheng asked who else knew their underwater stuff; for the first time, Stede considers the question of what else Jim might have been involved in to be so confident with that.

Perhaps everyone’s involved in far more eco-piracy than Stede ever could have guessed, with the readiness they’ve shown for getting into it now, and that’s a thought he has to pack away for later, when he can ask Ed if anyone else on the crew has been part of his past escapades.

“Fang, Archie, Buttons, in the absence of anything specific we’re looking for in the biological realm, we’d love you to keep an eye out for any unexpected arrivals on the property.” He turns to Lucius and Pete and Oluwande. “You three are even more important on that front, recording whatever we find, keeping an eye on everything from above.”

“And me?” Izzy says, sounding unimpressed to be the last one called for the sporting team.

“I need you with me,” Stede says seriously. “We’ve got some important things to sort out.”

He ignores Izzy’s raised brow and claps his hands. “Places, everyone! Let’s get the evidence we need to blow this wide open.”

They pack up their little camp first, loading all the gear into the cars, sweeping over the flat spots where the tents had stood. There’s barely a hint of their presence here once they’re done, bar the fire, and Jim shovels dirt over to hide that. And then they’re all off and moving in different directions, and Stede barely has a chance to squeeze Mary’s elbow, to tell her to be safe, before she’s gone toward the mountain.

Ed’s waiting for him beside Zheng’s car, leaning against it like a supermodel on an open air shoot. It’s frankly unfair how stunning he looks dressed in figure-hugging black, with his hair half up and the rest loose around his shoulders.

Stede doesn’t even have to say anything; Ed just pulls him in and kisses him soundly, long and lingering and gentle, stroking his face, down over his shoulders, as if he’s memorising Stede. “Stay safe, yeah?”

“I’m not the one diving in some subterranean cave that might be full of poison!” His anxiety has been mounting all morning, and it’s certainly reaching a fever pitch right now. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll keep him out of harm’s way,” Zheng says from the other side of the car, and it’s so authoritative that it quells some of the panic in Stede’s heart instantly. “We’d better get going, Teach.”

“Come back to me,” Stede tells Ed earnestly. “We’ve still got ten days of prompts left to finish.”

That has the desired effect of making Ed laugh, warm and rumbling. “All right, yeah, when you put it like that, s’pose that is a pretty good reason to live.” He kisses Stede again, softly this time, a promise in itself. “We’ll both stay safe. It’s a deal.”

And just like that, he’s climbing into the car, throwing one last wink and a salute Stede’s way. He watches Ed pull off into the distance as Zheng drives him away, anxiety twisting in his gut. Izzy’s beside him a moment later. “All right, Bonnet. What’s the plan?”

He turns to look at the man, who was by Ed’s side through everything difficult in the past, who Ed trusts more than anyone else to get him through when there’s an actual fight needed. Izzy’s here, despite their past struggles. Ed asked him to come out and he did, just like that, dived immediately into their chaos regardless of any risk to himself.

“Well, Ed did say you taught him everything he knows.” It’s a slight exaggeration, but the way Izzy’s chest puffs tells him it was the right white lie. “I thought that perhaps I might be able to learn at the feet of a master.”

“Foot,” Izzy says, with a stomping pivot. “All right. Let’s see exactly how useless you are.”

Very, turns out to be the answer. They traipse off into the forest together with an armload of weaponry that makes Stede’s stomach fizz with anxiety. No swords, no, but there are some truly hefty knives in the bundle, not to mention guns, both a rifle and a handgun, along with ropes and goodness knows what else. They find their way to a clearing, and he drops it all in a pile on the ground, which makes Izzy roll his eyes.

“First lesson is taking care of your instruments.”

The bitchy tone, well. Stede can match that. “I suppose we’ll have more chance for that when we’re not carrying half an armoury around for fun. What’s first?”

Izzy doesn’t pick up a weapon of any kind. Just beckons him closer and says, “Punch me.”

“All right.” Stede shuffles closer, dukes up, suddenly thinking about Rupert and how he broke a knuckle the first time he punched a henchman, and how much more prepared his favourite character was for that than he is right now. “Which one do you want?”

The question’s barely out of his mouth when Izzy strikes, driving a fist into his gut, doubling him over as all the air in his body exits in a rush. He stays there, staring at the dirt, wheezing, trying to get a breath in, hands over his stomach, because god. Besides those early days of torment from the Badmintons at school, Stede has done a reasonable job of avoiding pain in his life, actually. It’s not something he seeks out. He’s not desperately keen on rollercoasters or thrill rides or paintball shenanigans, he’s quite happy curling up with a book and imagining things instead.

The bright, sharp bloom of pain in his stomach and the solid ache it’s settling into now are very, very real, and he stands up slowly, feeling distinctly different.

Izzy’s staring at him with a mildly antagonistic sort of grin. “Life comes at you fast.”

“It does,” he agrees, and then, because what else is there to do but fight harder, in case it comes at him from worse people with worse purposes? People who want to hurt Ed, the crew, the environment? He won’t stand for that, and he’s very much brave enough to face it. Then, he straightens himself, puts his fists back up and says, “Let’s go again, until I get it right.”

~

Zheng’s boat is fancy as fuck, and Ed wanders around the helm in awe, holding back the urge to flick the eleven million switches. Auntie’d probably kill him from all the way over on the mountain if he so much as looked at it wrong.

“When was the last time you dived?” Zheng’s already zipped into her wetsuit, looking competent as hell as she does something complicated with her hair, ties it back into a single ponytail. “I don’t want any risk of trouble here, we’ve got enough problems to deal with.”

“Last year,” Ed tells her, still wriggling the top half of his suit on. “Went on a trip to the Maldives, did plenty of practice there.” He’d spent the whole holiday alternating between diving and mooching in a hammock, pining over Stede, wishing he was there. He’d asked Stede if he wanted to come, just a mates’ trip, and Stede had thought about it. And then he’d told Ed that he’d promised to have the kids for an unspecified amount of summer vacation, and he couldn’t.

Now, Ed thinks maybe there was a little panic there, Stede feeling exactly what Ed was, knowing there’d be no way to go on that trip and come back just friends. Not ready for that then, so ready for it now, and hey. He can plan for the Maldives again, this time two of them in the one hammock, probably. Might not see any of the sights outside their hotel room at the current rate.

“Well, good,” Zheng says, interrupting his train of thought. “And caves?”

“Done a little,” he says. “Not a lot.” He doesn’t love that sense of being enclosed underwater, he’s got to admit.

Zheng nods. “Fine. You’re staying on the boat.”

He splutters. “What? I’m all ready to roll.”

She turns to Jim, who’s just wandered out all zipped up. “What’s your caving experience?”

“Huh?” Jim looks between them, like they’re trying to figure out how the conversation got here. “Oh, uh. I’ve done some caves in Thailand. Several cenotes in Mexico. Last went in January, the tighter the squeeze the better.”

“See?” Zheng turns back to Ed, smiling. “Besides, you don’t have a dive buddy, Teach. We need a guy up top who can review the footage as we go, make sure we’re all safe.”

He bites back the urge to tell her that he’s fucking Blackbeard, man. He can do anything. “That’s Frenchie, right?”

Frenchie puts both hands in the air. “Logistics, I don’t know anything about safety.”

I’ll keep him out of harm’s way, Zheng had told Stede. And yeah, all right. He doesn’t want to be in harm’s way, but he also doesn’t want anyone else to be.

“I’m ready. I’m going to stay ready,” he tells her. “Shit hits the fan for any reason, I’m coming in after you.”

“You do that,” Zheng says, and turns to Jim as they shrug on their tanks. “Good to go?”

It’s a tense time, Ed and Frenchie leaning over the big monitor as Zheng and Jim drop into the water and sink below. Zheng flicks the camera on, the blue world beneath the surface popping up on the screen, and then they’re off and swimming. Out along the deeper drop-off first, swinging back around to the cliffside, where the sandstone rock drops straight into the water. Sure enough, it doesn’t take Zheng long to find a cave opening along the base, and she signals to Jim to go in.

It’s dark in there, until Zheng fires up a light that turns it all milky blue instead, visibility minimal.

“Fuck that,” Frenchie mutters under his breath, and Ed can only agree.

He leans in toward the microphone. “You good down there?”

Zheng’s got an earpiece on under the full face mask, and the sound clicks in now, the cabin filled with the rasp of Zheng’s breathing for a second. “Roger. Everything’s fine down here. We’re entering the tunnel now.”

“That wasn’t the tunnel?”

Zheng laughs, tinny. “Not even close.”

On the screen, she kicks on, into a narrower space that has Ed swallowing, glad she booted him out of this. She’s stopping now, fins kicking in front of her, light pointed down at the bottom, where there are bulky shapes just becoming visible as the silt settles.

“Found something?”

“Rocks,” Jim says. “Usually rocks.”

“That’s something else,” Zheng says, going down. “Almost looks like—“

There’s a sudden thump beneath Ed’s feet that rocks the boat sideways and back, sends them both stumbling into each other, and by the time he disentangles himself from Frenchie, the screen’s gone black and there’s nothing but absolute fucking silence inside the cabin, quiet enough that Ed can hear his own heartbeat thumping in his ears.

Frenchie puts his hands up. “I didn’t touch anything.”

“Zheng?” Ed says, into the microphone, the fear trickling through him. “Jim? You reading me? What’s happening down there?”

There’s nothing but stone cold emptiness on the other end, and the fear is curling in Ed’s stomach as he looks up at Frenchie, who’s wide-eyed as he puts his hands up. “I don’t know how to dive, mate, never done it.”

“Wouldn’t ask you to.” Ed’s already fully zipped into his neoprene, and all he needs are the tanks. To get down there, into that narrowing tunnel, to follow Zheng and Jim, fuck, Jim’s down there too, into whatever the hell they just ran into.

Fuck. Fuck, this is… bad.

He’s on autopilot suddenly, cool in a crisis. His brain knows what to do, and this time, that’s to pick up his cell from the dashboard and hit Stede’s number automatically. Rings two or three times before it cuts in and Stede’s on the other end, his voice distant, like he’s not holding it close enough to his face. “Ed? Ed, I’m in the forest, Izzy’s teaching me how to stab things. Are you—what’s happening, are you diving?”

“Yeah, I’m not underwater right this minute, mate.” He’s trying to smile. He can’t make it get there. “Listen, I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Ed?” Stede rustles, moves, gets a little louder. “Is something happening? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, I’m good, I’m just… I’m just about to go under, and I wanted to—“ Say goodbye. He swallows. “Just missed you. Just stupid couple shit, hey? Been too many hours.”

Stede’s voice goes soft, fond. “It’s been an hour.”

Fuck, how quickly things change. “I know. An hour’s too long.” He’s not going to think about longer, about forever. “I just… I love you, you know that?”

There’s a long silence. “Ed.”

“Can’t a guy tell his boyfriend he’s into him?” He looks up and meets Frenchie’s eye, and Frenchie looks away, and fuck, that makes the panic intensify. Clock’s ticking, time’s running out, and Zheng and Jim need him right now. He takes a deep breath, shoves all the love down deep and says, “Take care, mate.”

“Ed? Ed—“

He hangs up, because he has to. Turns the phone all the way off, because otherwise he could stand here for the rest of his life just to keep Stede’s voice on the other end of the phone, so that it doesn’t have to stop. None of this, any of it.

“Frenchie!” he yells, and his curly mop of hair pops back in the door from where he’d scuttled off before.

“Yeah, yes, I’m here, what do you—”

“Help me get my tanks on, mate. I’m going diving.”

~

“He hung up,” Stede tells Izzy, pacing in the same circle he’s been walking for the last five minutes, wearing a path into the dirt. “He said take care, mate, and then he hung up, and now I’ve called him fifteen or so times and there’s nothing.” Fifteen or fifty, who’s counting?

Izzy puts out his foot, the prosthetic one, and Stede comes to a sharp halt. His voice is low, steady, slow. “Panic’s not going to help him.”

“Then what is?” He can hear the fear in his own voice. “I can’t lose him, Izzy. I can’t, we’re only… we’re only just getting started, god, I—“ He’s mortified to realise that he’s crying.

“Thing is,” Izzy says, voice no less calm than before, “the only thing you can do when the shit hits the fan is take what you know, and make a plan. Execute the plan. Make another one if that doesn’t work, until you get to the other side of whatever’s going on.”

“Right. Yes.” He knows that. He can see that. He’s just never been quite as terrified as he is right now at the sound of Ed’s voice, telling Stede he loves him, saying goodbye, because he knows that was goodbye. Definitively. “And what should the plan be?”

Izzy groans. “We can go to the boat, but if he’s down below, that’s not going to help either way. I think we need to find Auntie.” He waves his phone. “Tried calling, but if they’re down in the mountain where there’s no signal available…”

“We’re fucked,” Stede says, hollow. “Best get on with finding them, then.”

Izzy catches his arm before he can stride off and pulls him back. Face serious. “Ed’s survived everything the world’s thrown at him so far. He’s going to survive whatever this is, too.”

An indestructible little fucker, he’d called Keith on Tree Change, and god, suddenly Stede wishes like hell that he had an idea of what comes next there, as if Rupert and Tāne could possibly hold the key to tell him what to do.

But, he realises as he gathers the weapons back up, perhaps they already have, somewhere, sometime.

They’re almost out of the clearing before he stops and takes a step back, because there on one of the dying trees, a section of bark has been blasted away by the target practice Izzy had him do. He’d missed everything for the first few shots, and then he’d hit this broadside, and then he’d lodged one firmly in there, earned himself an approving nod from Izzy. The shots are still ringing in his ears.

“Is that—what is that?” The sap’s leaking out of it, and there’s a sheen to it, he’s sure.

Izzy steps up behind him, peers at the same thing. Reaches out and swipes a leather-gloved finger through it, and yes, it’s definitely got a sort of shimmering blue-silver cast. He brings it to his nose and sniffs, and then he turns to Stede, brows drawn together. “I think I know what it is.”

~

They’re back at the camp ten minutes later, and Stede dives out of the 4WD and makes a run for the mountain before Lucius can so much as ask him what in the blazes he’s doing.

Finding Ed, that’s what. That matters more than anything right now.

There’s now a cleared cave entrance at the base of the hill as he runs up, lungs tight from more than just the exertion, and Mary’s standing beside it with her clipboard, balancing a chemical test kit on it. She’s wearing big sunglasses and she’s concentrating so closely on what she’s doing that she doesn’t hear Stede coming up, until he gasps out, “Mary.”

She startles, looks up at him, and shoves her sunglasses up, assessing him instantly. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s Ed,” he manages to say. “Something’s gone wrong. I need Auntie.”

They might not have managed to be what they each needed while they were married, might never have fully understood one another then, but these days Mary’s up there with his best friends, and she knows him well enough to set down everything she’d holding and grab his hand. “We’ll find them.”

Not only Auntie, but Ed, he knows that’s what she means, and her certainty is a single point of calm in the absolute world of terror that’s unfurling inside him right now.

She leads him into what was clearly also a mineshaft at some point, a carved out tunnel in the rocks that branches away in both directions. The crew have hung lanterns throughout, a long line of bright spots marching off into the infinite darkness, but it’s still a shift from the brightness of the day into the dim reaches of the tunnel. Mary pauses, listens. Nods to the left side of the fork. “That way. They were following the tunnel down. We found a lot of different samples, and I needed the daylight to focus…”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Stede says, mind still whirling. “I’m so sorry, I really am, for all of this.”

Mary stops, puts a hand on his elbow. “Hey. You don’t need to worry about any of that. We’re all here together, okay? We’re here because we want to be here, because we want to help.”

“Okay.” When she says it, he can nearly believe it. “Thank you.”

She’s staring at him with so much softness that it brings a sob up into his throat. “Ed’s the best. You guys are so right for each other. You’re going to have that future.”

He nods, because he can’t bring himself to say a single other thing. She pulls him along, down the tunnel. It slopes downward as they go, and he spins to look at the walls as he passes. Carved out of the stone, buttressed with wooden supports, the floor rocky. There are well-worn lines of metal embedded in the ground; tracks for some sort of cart system. “Is it old?” he asks. They could really use Ivan for this, but the archaeologist’s out of the country right now on a dig.

“Yeah, I think it’s historical,” Mary says. “Not ancient, but at least a few decades old.” They reach another fork in the tunnel, and she listens for a second, then nods again to the left. “This way.”

It feels like descending right into hell, if Stede’s honest. Stepping down into the darkness as the slope pitches down, heading toward what he fears is news that Ed’s in danger, or even worse—no, he can’t think about that now. He can’t. Gradually the voices start to increase in volume, echoing a little in the dark, and Mary pulls a torch off her belt and clicks it on, throwing a wide beam of light ahead of them to cut between the shadows.

They reach the end together, and Auntie’s there, thank god, alongside Roach and Wee John. All of them are standing in front of a dip in the floor that’s full of boulders.

“Auntie,” he says, no time for mucking around. “I think something’s gone wrong with Zheng and Ed.”

She turns to look at him. “You didn’t think to radio them?”

He blinks. “I didn’t have a radio.”

She lets out a groan, even as she pulls a little handset off her belt and presses the button. Holds eye contact with him as she speaks. “Frenchie, do you copy?”

There’s no answer. The air is thick around them, and there’s a distant sort of buzz in the air that he can almost feel through the soles of his boots.

“Frenchie, do you copy? Frenchie. Frenchie. Do you read me?” She sighs wearily and rolls her eyes. “Fine. Maybe we’re not getting a signal in here.” She turns to Roach, presses the radio into his hands. “Go up top and see if you can reach them, okay?” He nods and goes running back off up the tunnel, and she turns back to Stede. “Why are you here? Why didn’t you go there?”

“Izzy said—“

“I don’t care what Izzy said.”

He grits his teeth. “Because there’s not much point me going out there. I can’t just… hurl myself in the water and swim out to Zheng’s boat. Can’t dive, can’t do anything useful.”

Mary’s hand is on his arm again, warm and firm. “Have we got a reason to worry?”

Auntie bites her lip, and then she nods down at the rocks. “There’s something wrong. Rock fall here, yes, but the tunnel’s intact. Buttressing’s still solid, so it’s like it’s been pushed in there, and I don’t know what it’s covering. There have been two shockwaves and there’s this increasing frequency of vibration, building up over the last ten minutes since those.”

“From… what?”

“Water,” Izzy says, making his way in behind them. He’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder, and he drops it on the floor. Nods to the rocks. “Bet you good money there’s a subterranean stream under there.”

Water is Ed’s expertise. Ed would know, if Ed were here. “Access to the aquifers,” Stede says. The source of the contamination, the connection point between whatever’s happened in these tunnels, and the impact they’re seeing out there in the environment. He turns back to the rocks. “Can we… can we move those?”

Izzy nudges the bag with his good foot. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Ten minutes later, they’ve all retreated outside, just in case. Izzy’s got a tablet with the controls blazing on the screen, and there’s plastic explosive laced all through the rocky blockage inside the mountain.

Stede nods to him. “Ready when you are.”

Izzy taps the big red button, and a countdown circle begins to spiral on the screen, completing one circuit per second, big numbers flashing in the middle.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.

“Captain.” It’s Roach running up behind him, walkie talkie still clutched in his hand, as Izzy starts the countdown. “You need to wait—“

Izzy’s still staring at the screen. “Three. Two—“

“Captain!” Roach yells. “They’re under the tunnel—“

“—One. Fire in the hole.”

Everything goes still at once, as Stede and Izzy turn to Roach at the same moment, registering what he just said. Stede says, “Oh… god.”

And then the ground beneath their feet shakes, rumbles, jogs them all sideways and back as the explosives detonate, and a moment later a cloud of dust comes rushing out of the cave entrance.

Stede stares desperately at Izzy, whose eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them. “It wouldn’t… would it… if they…?”

“Get back inside!” Auntie yells. “Go, go, now!”

It’s a race to get back there, and Stede ends up taking the lead, legs pumping as he stumbles and ducks, heedless of the dark. He knows the way, drawn like a magnet, his feet thumping a constant beat of no, no, no—

The chamber’s full of slowly-settling dust as they skid in there, and he waves it away as he makes his way cautiously forward. Steps one more time, finds nothing beneath his foot, and almost, almost pitches in; would have, if it weren’t for a firm hand on the back of his shirt, yanking him back.

Izzy’s right there, grimacing. “Making me choose between saving your life and shoving you in, rude.”

“Thank you,” Stede chokes out, and then he goes down on his knees on the edge of what he can now see is a great gaping hole in the floor.

Mary’s beside him a second later with her powerful torch, beaming it in. At first it doesn’t make sense; it’s just dirt down there, more dirt, as if the tunnel up here has given way to a second tunnel running parallel. But the light catches a black gleam, and another, tendrils of it seeping up through the surface.

“Water,” says Izzy, and they all watch as the trickles become spurts, and the rumble beneath their feet starts to build. He’s on his feet a moment later. “Water!”

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before a roaring wall of the stuff bursts through the last of the rock blockage and punches up through the floor, making them all stagger back. Stede grabs Izzy’s arm and goes to pull him back, but Izzy yells, “Wait!”

It’s around their ankles now, bubbling up furiously. Around their knees in moments, as the rest of the crew bolts, yelling, leaving Stede and Izzy standing there in the face of it all.

“Stede!” Mary yells behind him. “For fuck’s sakes, run!”

But he knows the same thing Izzy knows, doesn’t he? Bends down and dips his fingers in the rushing current to confirm it, brings them to his mouth and tastes the salt there. “Seawater.”

It’s up to his thighs when suddenly, suddenly, thrust upward on the dark current is a pair of figures in black, and they come bursting up out of the water, scrambling immediately for their feet, trying to haul each other up. Stede rushes in and grabs them, pulls them up, and it’s—oh god, it’s Jim, and Zheng. Still fully dressed in their dive gear, masks on, battered oxygen tanks on their back.

“Where’s Ed?” he shouts over the thundering roar of the water. “Where is he?”

But they can’t hear him, or they don’t know. Zheng’s grappling with her mask, Jim’s trying to kick off their fins, staggering and falling on what must be an injured leg, and they can’t stay here. “Go!” he yells, shoving them toward Izzy. “Go!”

Izzy hesitates, but then he nods. Gets an arm around Jim and starts hauling them outward, two good legs between them.

The water’s up to Stede’s waist now, and he’s staring at the gap like he could will this to stop. But he’s never had control of nature, and she’s never cared much for the desperate, tearing love that’s driving him to stand here, staggering to keep his footing against the flow, slamming a hand against the hard rock as the freezing cold creeps above his belly button.

“Ed!” he screams, like that could make any difference at all, breaking into a sob. “Come back to me.”

He’s almost there, almost to the moment where he can’t hold on any longer, where he has to decide to walk away and live, or drown here along with every hope he’s ever had.

And just as he’s contemplating that as a real possibility, there’s a sudden glow in the water, and then—

“Ed!”

He wades forward as Ed comes floating up on the boiling current, up and back down again, goggles on, lamp still beaming from his forehead, mouth visible where the regulator has—oh, shit—fallen from his mouth. He’s not thrashing like Jim and Zheng were, he’s… ominously still. Stede dives into the water like he was born to it, as if he were a mermaid desperately fighting for a fallen sailor, and against all odds in the dark swirl he manages to get hold of Ed, who rolls over in his arms in a way that makes him choke back a sob as he grapples to find the bloody clip—there it is, and Ed’s oxygen tanks fall away, and Stede he scrabbles and kicks to keep them both above the churning water.

“I’m here,” he sobs against Ed’s ear. “You’re safe.”

He’s the least safe he’s probably ever been, but they seem to have caught the right side of the current now, and it’s pushing them up toward the roof, back toward the tunnel. He adjusts his grip, manages to hook his arm under Ed’s, and floats them both on their backs in the direction of safety.

And thank god, at last, nature decides to help them out as the current pushes them out into the tunnel, in the rolling rush of water that’s streaming up toward the exit.

Carries them almost all the way, in fact, and then lands them gently on solid ground, a second before Wee John and Pete rush in and pull Ed away from him.

Stede goes to stagger up, doesn’t quite make it onto his feet. But then there’s Oluwande and Lucius on either side of him, lifting him up and running him out into the blinding light, making up for the way his thighs tremble with every step.

Ed’s there in the daylight, flat on his back, eyes closed, and Roach is—fuck—tipping him sideways, listening for breathing. Rolling him back, pushing on his chest, and Stede staggers forward a step before Mary catches him around the waist and holds him tight.

Someone else throws a blanket around his shoulders, and he shrugs it back off, tries to fight his way through, because this was not supposed to go like this, not any of it.

And in the end Mary can’t hold him back from Ed. Nobody can. He goes down on his knees beside Roach, crawls forward and grabs for Ed’s hand. “Don’t die. Please, Ed, don’t—“

Don’t leave me, don’t leave us.

“Please,” he begs, and the whole crew is silent around him, just his sobs splitting the air, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper as the water drips from his hair and onto Ed’s neck. “Come back to me.”

Maybe it’s his words, or maybe, more likely, it’s Roach and the work he’s doing. But Ed suddenly coughs, and the next second he’s spewing up water, hacking it out as Roach rolls him to the side. He flops back, eyes wide open, and Stede lets out a hysterical little laugh. “I’m here. I thought I’d lost you.”

Ed’s mouth works open and shut, eyes a little unfocussed, until he flops back onto the ground. Brows pinched together, he finally meets Stede’s eyes, and earnestly, seriously, rough as river water says, “Fuck caves.”

~

They’re all tucked up back at the cabin an hour later. Ed’s been given the best spot on the patio lounge, wrapped up in a couple of blankets, and Stede hasn’t let go of him once. He’s stroking his back absently now as the crew lays down their findings.

“Subterranean tunnel system,” Zheng says, smoothing out the map, where there’ve been new lines added in red to indicate the path they took through that fucking cave, Christ, Ed’s never going near one again. “Jim and I were doing fine, spotted some evidence, but then we tripped a wire, detonated a small blast that brought down rocks behind, trapped us in there, cut the radio communication as well. Ed came along and cleared it.” She nods to him. “We’re very grateful.” And then she taps the map again. “There was a second branch in the system here, but with the three of us there, a second detonation occurred, pushing the water back through the tunnel at a high velocity, until it met—“

“Us,” Auntie says. “We’d just cleared the block in the tunnel above, giving the water space to exit.”

“And thank fuck for that,” Izzy says from where he’s leaning against the railing. “Lucky, that’s what we all are.”

Ed doesn’t miss the flick of Izzy’s eyes his way, or the reflexive squeeze of Stede’s arms around him.

“So that’s it,” Wee John says. “All the evidence gone.”

“No,” Ed rasps, voice still hoarse. “No, we found what we were looking for. They missed one.”

He nods, and Frenchie hauls the metal canister up onto the porch, sets it down and steps back like it’s going to explode on him.

Izzy doesn’t even look at it. Just says, “Benzenes, isn’t it?”

Ed huffs out a rough laugh, because that’s the guy he knows. “You’ve still got it.”

Izzy tilts his head. “I know.” He nods to the forest over there, everything looking different to the way it did this morning, only nothing’s changed. Just everything they know. “We caught a look in one of the trees. Damaged the trunk, and there was residue.”

“Benzenes are a byproduct of petroleum manufacture,” Stede says. “Carcinogenic, impact on red blood cell production in living things, toxic to plants. The trees must have been leaching it up from down below.”

“They dumped the evidence into the water system underground,” Ed says. “Left it, until pretty recently, I’d say. Maybe after that harbour spill, and then there’s been some damage control, getting rid of all the evidence that could link them to that.”

“So used the mine tunnels to dump it into the underground water system initially,” Zheng says. “Cleared it out later, covered that up with a blast to bring down the rocks, then booby-trapped the subterranean cave after they were done clearing it out, once the environmental impact became clear.”

“Those dicks,” Frenchie says, and everyone nods.

Ed tips his chin to Roach, who’s now the closest to the canister. “And on the side it says?”

He spins it around, making it squeak on the ground. It’s obvious to all of them, right there, clear as day, but Roach says it anyway, through his teeth. “Carmody.”

“Of course it was,” Stede says, and he leans his forehead against Ed’s shoulder for a long moment. “So this is proof of what we’ve suspected all along. Definitively. Carmody was disposing of dangerous waste in this environment, and didn’t think they were going to get caught out.”

“And then the waste ended up in the harbour.” The big spill they’d all known about, no obvious source. “And they’ve been trying to cover their tracks.”

“What did they think was going to happen if they brought people out to investigate it?” Archie says. “Fucking tools!”

“I think they didn’t anticipate how thorough we’d be,” Stede says. “I suspect they didn’t know we’ve all been raised on environmental activism and eco-piracy. Perhaps they hoped we’d investigate and find nothing, but they underestimated us.”

Roach lets out a whistle, and there’s a murmur of cheers. Because yeah, this is some fucked up Tree Change shit all right. Ed’s seen it all before, he’s suspected it, but right up until today, it hadn’t been this real. And now he’s been sucked through a subterranean tunnel, copped a whack to the noggin somewhere along the way that knocked him out, and he’s woken up to Stede desperately begging him not to die.

This is as real as it gets.

“So what’s next?” Stede asks, looking around the group. “Where do we go from here?”

“We could hold a press conference,” Jim says, leaning over to kick the canister. They’ve got a big bundle of ice wrapped around their knee, and they look beyond pissed off. “Put this in front of the world, tell them Carmody’s up to shit.”

Ed’s brain might be ringing still, but he only just watched that episode of Tree Change last fucking week, where Rupert dragged all the evidence into the public eye before they were ready, and next week—fuck, in a matter of days—they’ll all find out the cost. “No. Not until we’ve found concrete evidence of the conspiracy.”

“Of Shuttlecock’s involvement,” Stede breathes. “And… Hopscotch as well.”

He slides his hand over Stede’s knee, because his old man’s up to his neck in this. “Yeah.” He looks around the group. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it properly.”

And that, he knows, means their time at this cabin has come to an end, for now. They’ve got to go back to the city for the next phase.

~

Everyone packs up slowly over the course of the afternoon. Ed talks logistics with Zheng, while Stede has an earnest conversation with Mary that Ed overhears enough of to understand the deal. Doug’s already taken the kids to visit his family on the other side of the country; Mary’s going to go join them, and then they’re going to take a holiday somewhere far away from all of this, where Carmody and the rest can’t possibly reach them.

Paranoid? Yeah, but you know what, he’s watched enough Tree Change to know that there’s never too much safety to apply to this kind of thing.

The plan’s all in place, and the last thing left is to say goodbye to Izzy, who lingers on the porch in the sunset after everyone else is out. He’s covering up the emotion with gruffness, as usual. “Thought we might not see you again for a minute there.”

Ed shrugs. “Yeah, well. I’m hard to get rid of.”

“Don’t I know it.” He scoffs, then looks away over his shoulder for a minute, watching Stede. Turns back with an expression that’s gone soft. “Didn’t understand it at first, you and him, but now I do. You’re good for each other. You balance each other out.”

Ed swallows thickly. Izzy keeps talking.

“He’d do anything for you, you know that? Absolutely anything. Can’t fault the man so much now.”

Ed nods, trying not to think about it. He doesn’t want Stede in harm’s way. Wants to send him off with Mary, tell him to go where none of this danger exists. But Stede’s making his own choices here, and Ed’s not going to tell him he can’t. “Feeling’s mutual.” Like it was for he and Izzy, a long time ago, before it all went to shit. He’s good at saying things to Stede. He’s not good at saying them to Izzy, but he’s learning. “Thanks for blowing shit up for me.”

Izzy scoffs. “Fuck off.”

It’s as close to a perfect thanks as he’ll ever get from Iz, knowing that the guy just conquered a whole shit ton of fears and traumas to save Ed’s life. Explosives are the same thing that took his leg, and he’s done it more than once this week, for Ed. Again. “I appreciate your help,” he says softly, because what else can he say?

Izzy just leans closer to him, until he can bump him with his shoulder. “Go take care of your boyfriend. Let him take care of you. And call me if you need me, yeah?”

“Be careful, Iz.”

“I will.”

He watches Izzy drive off into the sunset before he turns around to face the cabin again. Stede’s in there, and Stede needs him, and that’s what’s going to hold back the rushing river of emotions that’s boiling just beneath the surface.

He shrugs off the blanket as he makes his way through the cabin, peeking into the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, but there’s no Stede. He’s about to turn back the other way when he catches a stifled little intake of breath from the bathroom, and it makes his heart squeeze.

“Stede?” He knocks lightly, eases the door open, and Stede spins around from where he was looking in the mirror, wiping tears off his face.

“Ah, Ed, there you are.” He’s managed to get his voice sounding near normal in seconds, but Ed knows him well enough to hear the catch, the pitch.

“Hey.” He goes over to meet Stede. “You okay?”

His brows draw together, and his eyes well up, and he says, “Probably?”

And it’s so uncertain that it makes a laugh slip out of Ed’s mouth, except that catches in his throat and turns into a sob, and then it’s all bubbling up. Stede murmurs something he doesn’t hear, and opens up his arms and pulls Ed into them. They lock together and suddenly all the emotion is flooding out, and Stede’s shaking in his arms, and Ed’s maybe going to lose his fucking mind, and he can’t have that.

He shoves Stede back a step, breathing hard. “I need you in the shower. Now.”

“What?” Stede looks confused as hell. “Are you sure? After all the…”

The water, he means. And Stede had it even worse than he did for a minute there, he knows that. He takes Stede by the arms. “You don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just…” How the fuck can he explain something that’s only really existed in his head? “If bad shit happens, and I let it stay bad, then it digs in and it sticks.” Stede’s brows are still making that little line between them. Ed keeps trying. “I need to put my head under some fucking water, man. And I need to do it in a way that’s good.”

“Ah,” Stede says, finally registering. “I see. All right. Yes.” He swivels to look at the shower cubicle like it holds a whole new flood for him to beat, and then he turns back to Ed. “Wait here. I’ll get the lube.”

He’s gone in a flash, bounding out to the bedroom, and Ed can only laugh, because otherwise he really might cry. He gets to work peeling off his t-shirt and shoving down his jeans, and by the time Stede comes rushing back in—also stripped right down—he’s naked as well.

Stede stops, stares at him. “Ed, oh, god, your poor body.”

He hadn’t even felt it, but when he follows Stede’s gaze, he gets it. “Fuck.” There are bruises up his torso and down his legs where the water threw him into the rocks on its furious path. He rakes his eyes up to Stede again, because he needs him more than ever. “In the shower. Now.”

They get the water cranking, highest speed. Nice and hot, too, filling up the room with steam in no time as Stede backs him up against the cool wall and kisses him, both of them groaning with relief.

They’re safe. They’re together. They’re fine.

Cold tiles behind him, hot water thundering over him, and he’s pushing back the feelings that want to get him by the throat, but they’re coming anyway. He laces his hands into Stede’s hair and doesn’t think about what Izzy told him, how Stede wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t save himself until he knew Ed was safe. He kisses him deeper, deeper, and doesn’t think about what it would have been like to wake up to Izzy’s face instead, looking sharply away when he asked where Stede was.

Stede’s grinding in against him, their bare cocks both hard and sliding together, and suddenly all the fight’s gone out of him. He slides down to his knees, into the thundering roar of the water, and gives himself over to it again.

Darkness, thick and swirling, the torch beam just bouncing back at him.

Tanks knocking against rock above, to the side, no matter which way he twists.

Rocks up ahead, rocks behind, rocks everywhere.

And suddenly the current’s shoving him deeper, deeper, no going back—

“Ed.”

Stede. Stede in front of him, solid and real, bare legs that Ed can run his palms up, thick hair over his thighs, and soft hands pushing the water off his face. Stede’s cock, half-hard between them. He looks up through his lashes, blinking away the water, and finds Stede staring down, concerned.

“Are you sure about this?”

He nods. Never been so fucking sure of anything. He gets the strength to push up onto his knees, slides his hand around to grip the base of Stede’s cock. Tells him, “keep going, no matter what,” and takes it into his mouth.

Closes his eyes, gets lost in it. The water pattering on his back, the solid, salty weight of Stede on his tongue, expanding fast to full hardness. Sucking softly, barely needing to do anything but stay. Stay with me, come back to me. Stede’s rocking a little into his mouth now, and he pulls him in deeper, signalling that he needs this, he fucking needs it, just like this, giving over control to something, someone he can trust.

And Stede gets it, because if there’s one thing this trip has given them, it’s that. He gets it now, without Ed needing to say a single word, and as he thrusts again, deeper into Ed’s throat, Ed thinks that’s maybe the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Full reversal of the old ways, never knowing what to say or how Stede would interpret it.

Now he’s fucking Ed’s face in earnest, fingers giving that perfect tight grip in his hair, tilting his head back a little for a better angle. Ed’s just a body, cock throbbing between his legs. The water’s all around them, and it can’t fucking drown him. He’s done with his dying.

He nuzzles in closer, until Stede’s cock is bumping the back of his throat and his muscles are tensing, and then he pulls back. Cops the water to his face again, yeah, but this time he shakes it off and it feels different. “Need you to fuck me,” he says hoarsely, no way of telling whether his voice is rough from Stede’s cock or that whole near drowning bullshit.

Stede nods, and the next second there are firm hands under his elbows, helping him stand on legs that surely weren’t that fucking shaky before.

“Ed,” Stede says again, and it holds so many different questions. He just turns, presses himself up against the cool tiles, and says it again.

“Fuck me. Please.”

Stede hesitates, but then his fingers are there, sliding gently into Ed’s crack, tracing a slow line down the seam of his ass, until the first fingertip finds his hole. Pauses there, pressing gently, while Stede kisses the curve of his shoulder, his neck, and Ed closes his eyes and lets the feeling carry him away.

Stede presses that first finger inside him, carefully at first, holding him tight against the wall as he does. There’s another not long after, slicker this time, lubed up, and Stede’s mouth traces a path down over his shoulder and back up again, open-mouthed kisses that feel like love. “Are you ready for me?”

He nods, still not opening his eyes. It’s only a moment before the blunt head of Stede’s cock is pressing against him and then slipping inside him, a splitting breach that still makes him gasp every single time, because it feels so fucking good, Jesus Christ.

Stede doesn’t make him wait. Just fucks steadily into him, plastering him up against the wall as he does. “I love you,” he murmurs against Ed’s neck. “I hope you know I would have found a way to get back to you no matter what.”

He cracks an eyelid. “Stede.”

“Oh, I don’t mean dying, I mean I simply wouldn’t have let you go that easily.” A deep thrust, his cock such a solid weight inside Ed, lighting up sparks with every drag. “You’re mine, Edward Teach. Do you know that?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He almost groans it. “Not going anywhere, Stede.”

He moans as he thrusts in, harder this time, and Ed takes it. Takes it and takes it, everything Stede has to give. Lets Stede hold him up against the wall with the force of his fucking, until Stede goes stiff and pulses inside him, and Ed’s knees almost go out from under him.

He’s barely aware of the rest. Stede slips out of him, must just fucking fireman-carry him to the bedroom or something, because he blinks and he’s tucked up in their sheets for the last fucking time, Stede right in front of him, both of them equally naked.

“Are you all right?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. But… I’m going to be.”

He’s more sure of that now than he’s ever been, and he hopes like hell that Stede is, too. Stede reaches up and touches his cheek, just like the first night they spent together in this bed. “We’ve had some good times here, haven’t we?”

“Most fun I’ve had in months. Years. Maybe ever.”

“Maybe we’ll be back soon,” Stede says, bordering on cheerful about it. “You never know!”

“Yeah, maybe.” He searches Stede’s face, finds the same weird mix of grief and joy there. “Wouldn’t want to miss those kitchen counters for too long.”

Stede makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Ed has to kiss him about it. Winds up tangled back in his arms as they roll around in the bed a little, and somehow it ends up with Stede’s hand around his cock, and in a minute flat he’s coming so hard over his own belly that he might not need any help forgetting this day. It’s almost been wiped.

They’re done here, he knows that, after today. “Still got the rest of the list to go,” he says, and Stede starts laughing. “What?”

“Seems like a good reason for living,” he parrots back at Ed, but then his laugh turns into a sob, and the next minute he’s buried his nose against Ed’s neck again, and they stay like that for a long time, just holding each other tight. Eventually he says, all muffled, “I don’t want to go.”

Ed knows it’s more than that. It’s not about leaving a place, it never is. “You know that everything we’ve made here together comes with us, right? We don’t leave it here. This isn’t over.” He shifts back far enough to look Stede in the eye. “You and me, we’re together now. Right?”

He hates the uncertainty in his own voice, and he knows that Stede hears it, too, because he touches Ed’s cheek softly. “I didn’t dare to hope for that, but yes. Yes, of course. Boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends.” His grin grows as he turns it over in his head, thinks about what that’s gonna look like in the real world. Realises that maybe Stede needs a little more than theory about that, a bit more of a concrete reality. “You want to come back to my place when we leave here?”

He lets out a breath. “To… stay?”

Ed nods. “At least for the night.” At least. “See where we go from there. Got my eyes on your place.”

“Got my eyes on yours,” Stede says, a little gleeful. “I always liked that bed.”

“Me too. Thought about railing you through that mattress more times than I can count.”

“Ah, well, I’m here to make all your dreams come true.” He frowns a little. “Shit. The prompts.”

Ed can’t help the laugh that wheezes out of him. “Mate, last thing on our minds today was the prompts.”

Stede still rolls back and snatches his phone anyway, flicks it open to the list. Squints at it for a minute, and then snorts. “Well. I think we’re one with the list now. Doesn’t matter if we’re not even trying, we keep ticking the boxes.”

He turns it toward Ed, and he reads off the 22nd day. “Face-fucking.” Just like they did in the shower, him on his knees, Stede fucking into his mouth. “And wall sex.”

Stede’s fingers are tracing the line of his snake tattoo now, a soft trail of sensation over his arm. “I had grand designs for picking you up and fucking you against an actual wall.”

And if that doesn’t send a shiver down his entire spine. “Strongman. Love that.”

“I could do it,” he says smugly. “My biceps are natural, but they’re actually quite big.”

“They are, babe.” Ed squeezes one of those biceps, thinks he’d like getting railed against a wall, actually. “Fucked me right up against a wall anyway. I think it counts.”

“Well, good. Maybe another day.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

They lie in silence for a bit, listening to the cabin creak around them, to the nightbirds singing their song. “I think the main problem is, I don’t think I want to know what happens next,” Stede says suddenly, and he could be talking about absolutely anything.

“With… us?”

“No! No, no, I mean… Christ. I didn’t expect to come out here and find ourselves living an actual Tree Change story, and here we are.”

“Rupert and Tāne eat your hearts out.”

He sighs. “In the show, there’s always… there’s always a consequence for the things that happen, you know? It’s been snowballing for years, and next episode it’s all going to be there. All of it, everything they’ve put into motion, all their mistakes looking back at them.”

“All their triumphs, too, though.” Ed stares at him. “You saying you don’t want the last episode?”

“Maybe I don’t!” Stede’s eyes gleam a little in the dark. “Would that be insane? If I never watched it, it could be perfect forever.”

It’s a little bit insane, yeah. “Nothing’s perfect, not even Tree Change.”

“I know, I know, I just… what if it’s a terrible ending? What if it ruins everything that’s gone before?”

Ed snorts. “Can’t retroactively ruin shit you already enjoyed, that’s against the laws of physics.”

“Ha, ha.” He tucks himself back up against Ed’s front, tangles their legs together, and Ed can already feel the heavy weight of sleep settling over him like a blanket, here where he’s comfortable and safe and loved. “I don’t think that’s true, I’m afraid,” Stede murmurs. “A bad ending could definitely influence my memories. We could just… assume the happily ever after instead. Make it make sense in our heads, forever and ever. Spin out a thousand possible scenarios, never have to choose a favourite.”

“Does sound pretty good when you put it like that.” Ed pauses. “You really want that?”

“No!” Stede sighs. “No, and I don’t want it for this, either. For us. I want to see the bad guys get what they deserve. I want to see them get their actual happily ever after. I just want it to be exactly what I want, is that so much to ask?”

Same for millions of fans out there, all of them hoping, most for the same things, some not so much. Not everyone is going to get what they want, and the fear’s always there that maybe it’s them who’ll be on the losing end. “I think it’s pretty fair. And I think they’re going to bring it home, just like we are.”

Stede’s only answer is a soft snore, and Ed chuckles to himself as he snuggles down, too. He’s afraid, yeah, of everything ending; of what they’ll have to lose to gain their future.

Here and now, he’s got hope that it’s going to work out.

~

The next morning they pack efficiently, not saying much as they cycle through the cabin. Stede takes it room by room, unloading all their kinky supplies from the closet, where they were meant to have another week of use, and packing them back into his suitcase, along with his clothes. While Ed rattles around in the kitchen Stede strips the bed, throws the sheets and their towels in the washing machine that’s tucked away in the shed.

The sex machine’s already gone, presumably packed back into the car, into whatever place amongst the supplies it surreptitiously occupied when they drove out here, Stede with not one single clue what he was looking for in and out of the environment.

He pauses beside the vehicle, looks out across the field of flowers that still glows out there under the watchful eye of the mountain, the blooms bright orange in the sunlight. Behind him is the forest, most of it healthy. Under his feet, he now knows, is a rumbling subterranean river, and it’s mostly, mostly cleared of contaminants now. This land is going to come back from here, he’s sure of it. They may need to fell the affected trees, do more investigation of those subterranean caves to make sure nothing’s been missed, but this is the aftermath of a disaster, he’s increasingly sure. Less so a disaster that’s still in motion, more the ripples of the waves still rolling out from it.

With their help, this place will survive the people who tried to damage it, will claw back health one stubborn, determined breath at a time. He’ll miss it here. He really will, and not only because it’s so strongly associated with Ed. Every breath of wind, every rustle of the trees, every hoot of a bird, it all reminds him of the things they’ve done together.

He’s found himself here. He’s found Ed, and they’ll be taking each other home now. No matter what happens next, he’s grateful for that.

It’s late afternoon by the time they finish packing everything up, and they leave the key under the mat. Stand side by side at the bottom of the stairs, hand in hand as they stare up at the cabin as it glows in the sunset.

“Well, that’s that,” Ed says, and nods to the car. “Let’s get going.”

Stede props, tugs him back. “I think we need to give it a proper goodbye, don’t you?”

Ed raises an eyebrow at him. “Right now?”

He chuckles at the look on Ed’s face, and the assumptions he’s clearly making. “I was thinking more along the lines of a nice goodbye kiss on the porch, maybe a photograph for posterity.”

Ed crowds in against him, wraps an arm around his waist. “Could fuck you up against the porch railing while you take photographs.”

He breathes through his nose, trying to contain the surge of longing that sends through him. “That sounds lovely. But… if we don’t get going soon, we’ll be out of time.”

“For what?”

He lets his fingers wander to the front of Ed’s shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. “It’s going to be late, so I booked a motel a couple of hours away. Halfway point. I figure we’re already tired enough, shouldn’t push it.”

“And?” Ed asks. Because it’s only a four-hour drive, which yes, is long, but they’ve certainly done longer, and they both know it.

“And,” Stede says, “we’ve got some prompts to finish for today.”

He can see Ed’s cogs turning. “Riding, I remember that one.”

“And multiple orgasms.” He manages to keep a straight face, only just, with the way Ed’s expression goes so wide-eyed. He squeezes Ed a little tighter, draws a huffed breath out of him. “I believe you promised me several, and I do intend to claim them.”

“Fuck,” Ed whispers. “You sure we can’t just stay here?”

He lets Ed go, and they turn again to face this place that’s cradled them while they were reborn into the next phase of their lives. “It’s time to find out how it ends,” he says. “If Rupert and Tāne are brave enough for that, so are we.”

~

They drive slowly out through the wetlands, past the forest, and turn beside the beach to head for the main road. And then they’re out the gate and they’re gone, just like that. Stede’s had long jobs that felt devastating to finish; he always gets attached to the environments he’s assessing, to one degree or another. But watching their Tree Change disappear in the rear-view is a heavier departure than he’s ever felt before. It feels like so much more than the end of a job, because it’s been so much more to them.

But lingering in the back of his mind is a certainty that quells the sharper waves of pain: somehow, he feels sure they’re going to be back here one day.

Ed reaches over silently and turns on the stereo. Fires up his phone, and a moment later Johnny Flynn is singing to them again, this time Into the Cedar Wood, his album about ecocide.

Johnny keeps them company as they pass through the town with the market, and another half an hour after that. And then they switch over to the Tree Change soundtrack, and it carries them the last hour to a small town that they pull into just as the night properly falls, the way lit by pools of dim light. They turn into the motel parking lot, not difficult to spot, since it’s the only one, and Stede hops out and goes to claim their key.

The room is… well. “It’s very vintage,” Stede says, trying to contain his grimace, and Ed snorts with soft laughter from where he’s hefting the overnight bags inside.

He drags the bags the rest of the way in and turns back to Stede, now close enough that he only has to take a couple of swaying steps before he’s pressed up against his front, stealing his breath. “Admit it, you’re already missing those kitchen counters.”

Stede tips his head back and laughs, and Ed nudges the door closed and pushes him up against it, turning the sound into a gasp. “I’ll never admit that.”

“Never?” Ed’s got a wicked smile on his lips, and he glances down between them. Rocks his hips against Stede’s. “Think I might have some ways of making you talk.”

Fuck, he remembers Ed undone to the point of having to use their safe word through overstimulation just days ago, and he’s been aching for the same. They’ve just had a few things to get through in between. But now they’re here in this 1960s monstrosity of a wood-panelled, orange-carpeted motel room, the fluorescent light buzzing overhead, and the look in Ed’s eyes is so heated that Stede could quite probably forget his own name, let alone everything else that’s outside those doors.

“Well, then. Convince me.”

Ed’s an absolute menace at this, as it happens. He insists on taking off Stede’s clothes himself, piece by piece, a slow, torturous affair that involves an incredible amount of kissing in between. His shirt is peeled up and over his head, catching him for a moment in a blindfolded state, and then Ed’s lips are hot against his, and he tilts his face up to be kissed.

The shirt’s off a moment later, and he blinks into the dim lamplight that’s replaced the bright overheads—he cannot do the fluorescent thing, no thank you, and it’s probably better not to shine too bright a light on the soft furnishings in this room anyway.

Ed bites softly along his neck and down over his shoulder, nibbles at his bicep, then charts a path across to his chest. Considers his nipples for a moment, a thumb circling each, and then turns him and pushes him down onto the bed, to the noisy protest of the springs.

He instantly forgets the squeaking as Ed climbs over him, shirtless and wordless before he ducks down with a growl and sucks one of Stede’s nipples between his teeth, making him yelp.

Ed’s giggling when he breaks away. “Hope there’s nobody next door. Think we got a bit used to having that whole place to ourselves.”

Nobody had been able to hear Stede scream, and god, Ed had made him scream. He hooks an ankle behind Ed’s knee and flips them over with more screeching from the springs, pushing him into the comforter as he wriggles his jeans down and off, before he goes back to Ed’s trousers and disposes of those, too.

“Riding,” he says decisively, standing at the end of the bed with his hands on his hips.

Ed’s gaze is glued to his cock. “Telling you now, mate, if you ride me to your orgasm I’ll be having one, too, and you won’t get to ride me any more.”

“Then let’s do it that way around,” Stede says, feeling suddenly decisive. “Last time I used every possible trick to make you come before I fucked you. This time let’s start with that, and go from there.”

Ed nods, breathing out. “Fuck yeah, okay.”

Stede could let him take control, let him take some revenge for last time, but to be honest, he’s felt a touch too helpless these past couple of days, and so he makes Ed’s eyes fly wider by digging for the lube and popping it open for himself. “Just lie back there, hmm? I’ll take care of this.”

He does, climbing over Ed’s thighs and balancing himself as he reaches back and finds his own hole. It’s been some time, actually, since he’s done this for himself; gratifyingly he hasn’t needed to this entire month, now that Ed’s here and so wildly enthusiastic about bringing Stede undone with it. Ed’s hands are on his thighs, rubbing soft circles as Stede slips a finger inside himself and tips his head back with a gasp.

“You do this much?” Ed asks, staring up at him reverently. “Ever think about me?”

“Sometimes,” he gasps out, as he presses a second finger in beside the first. “And I always, always think about you.”

He remembers the first time he dared to do it in the shower, standing there under the water with his forehead pressed to the tiles, sobbing unaccountably over Rupert and Tāne having had this… very ordinary moment of tension in the first season that went nowhere, not in the moment. Because Rupert had panicked, and he didn’t lean in and kiss Tāne when Tāne was right there, wordlessly offering himself up.

But, but, he did go into the office the next day and close himself in Nālani’s office and tell her that he knew he was gay.

And after that episode, there was Stede, still lonely, still convinced there was something wrong with him, still thinking about Ed and his confidence and his smile, and about Rupert finding the courage to be himself, and yes, he’d slipped his hand behind him and—just like this—fingered himself open for the first time in his life, and let himself imagine it, for a minute. That he was Rupert, obviously, not Stede, because that Stede, that Stede hadn’t been ready.

That Tāne was pressed close behind him, taking care of him so carefully.

And after he’d come in hot spurts across the tiles, cleaned himself up, dried off and tucked himself into bed, there’d been a fic posted that went to the same kind of place, art by Lucius, too, and it was, it turned out, the first of Ed’s that he’d ever read.

He slides his fingers out and leans across to wipe them off on the towel that’s become such a routine part of their existence, and finally lets himself look down at Ed.

Shining eyes, mouth open on a breath, waiting for him. Ed’s always been waiting for him, he knows that now.

He bends down to kiss him, and then while their lips are still pressed close together, he reaches back with a slicked-up hand to find Ed’s cock, and lines it up, and presses himself back. Ed moans into his mouth, brows drawn together, as Stede slides all the way home.

Panting with abandon, letting himself really feel it. A finger in the shower had given way to two, and then a surreptitiously ordered plug, and then an increasing range of dildos, until the penultimate episode of season two, when Rupert and Tāne had finally confessed their love for each other, and Stede had understood that none of this was theoretical at all.

Only this month, he’s been able to make it practical, and now he feels that much more whole than he ever has before with Ed’s cock buried deep inside him.

He stays there like that for a minute, pushing himself up to press Ed even deeper, letting his fingers wander through Ed’s chest hair, over his tattoos, his nipples, watching the jiggle in his belly as his muscles tense, trying to hold himself back from fucking Stede while Stede has his moment.

He rocks a little, just a slight back and forth. Examines Ed’s face, the minute shift in his brows, his lips falling open as he fights for control. Stede’s doing that to him. Ed’s gripping his hips, thighs tense, cock twitching inside him.

“God, you’re everything,” he says, and sees the smile in Ed’s eyes even as his brow furrows that much deeper. “You feel so good.”

“Please. Fuck, Stede, you’re going to drive me insane.”

“Can’t have that,” he says, and he begins to rock a little harder, a little faster. This is, he reminds himself, just the first of several orgasms tonight. Ed had three, and Stede’s greedy enough with want that he’ll settle only for the same.

He doesn’t hold himself back, because they’re all out of time for waiting. He settles his hands on Ed’s shoulders, lifts himself and pushes back, until he manages to get his rhythm right, and now he’s really riding it out. Eyes closed as he fucks himself with Ed’s cock, Ed almost whining under him, and then, and then reaching down to take Stede’s cock in his fist as he thrusts.

“Yeah?” Ed asks.

Stede looks down at him, at his face all flushed and sweaty and beautiful, and nods. “Make me come. Quick as you can.”

“Fuck, all right.” Ed braces his feet against the bed, gives Stede even more resistance to push back into, and he manages to angle his hand so that the same rocking of his hips is doing both, fucking himself back onto Ed, fucking into Ed’s fist at the same time.

Like a circuit connected, sparks coalescing throughout, a zapping current flow that rushes through him from inside, and in a moment he’s pulsing over Ed’s fist as Ed groans deep in his throat and pushes up into him, filling him.

Ed wastes no time pulling him over, pushing him down onto the bed, looming up over him and kissing him deeply, hungrily. “Fuck, I love it when you’re insatiable,” Ed murmurs, and Stede slides a hand through the come that’s splattered on his stomach.

“I’m not done yet.”

Ed closes his eyes, takes a breath through his nose. “Don’t think I am, either, Christ.” He glances down over Stede’s body, at his softening cock. “You want to back-to-back it, or wait a little between?”

“Is that a thing?” Of course it’s probably a thing, he still has no idea what he’s doing most of the time. “I mean, does it… count as multiple orgasms if they’re not all, you know. Grouped together? Is that just multiple separate sex acts?”

Ed squeezes his eyes shut as he laughs. “I dunno, how many times have you come three times in a night?”

“Hmm,” Stede says. “Never more than once, actually.”

Ed’s got a new life mission to make Stede have to think a lot harder about that. “Yeah, so even if you broke the rules, you’d still be breaking a record.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

They kiss lazily for a bit, tangled up together. Outside it’s quiet, here in the middle of nowhere, but there’s the occasional rumble of a truck passing on the highway. None of the birds of the cabin, none of the city traffic as home. They’re in limbo, this liminal space, as if they’ve slipped back in time a few decades to evade what’s happening in their modern world for a few blissful hours. He’ll have to add that thought to his mental fic rolodex, actually, because it’s a good one.

Ed reaches down between them and gives his cock a few strokes. Still soft for now, but the drag of Ed’s chest hair against his nipples has those ripples of electricity running through him again, and he doesn’t think it’s going to take much. “Edward,” he whispers, and Ed looks up from staring down between them. “Use your fingers, hmm? And your mouth, too.”

Ed lets out a little hum, and his eyes go dark. “Yes, sir.”

Stede’s still smiling as Ed slides down the bed, pressing kisses to his sternum, his belly, to all the parts of him that he never knew how to love before. He’s reset everything he feels about himself in Ed’s hands, and he opens his legs as Ed slides down between them, still nipping and sucking into the skin inside his inner leg. He reaches over for the lube, but stops. Looks up at Stede over the length of his body and says, “You know I’m still leaking out of you here? Don’t even need any fucking lube, I slicked you up myself.”

He takes a shuddering breath. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” Ed takes two fingers and pressed them against Stede’s rim, focussed on him. “Fuck, I filled you up good.”

Stede pushes his hands over his face as his cock jumps, and god, yes, this is going to work, because Ed is setting him alight all over again as he traces softly over the muscle there, and then pushes in with no warning. Pauses, looks up again. “Still good?”

He bites his lip and nods. “Incredible.”

Tender and slightly sore from pounding himself onto Ed’s cock earlier, but god, it just feels more. More heated, more sensitive, closer to the edge already as Ed’s searching fingers brush over his prostate, just as the heat of his breath closes over Stede’s cock.

Having this kind of insistent stimulation after he’s already come feels different to anything he’s felt before. He feels almost feverish with it as Ed swallows his cock down, plunged straight back to writhing and gasping and begging as Ed chuckles, tongue pressing against the underside.

He pulls off for a second and kisses the head of Stede’s cock. “So fucking hard already, look at you. Not going to take much, is it?”

He shakes his head, still short of words. That’s not how refractory periods are meant to work, but Ed’s enough to defy the reasonable bounds of human anatomy. He’s just that good, just that lovely, and Stede’s just that obsessed with him, and the clever curl of his fingers, and the deep, heated suction of his mouth, and in very short order his second orgasm is rushing up through him and he’s bucking on Ed’s hand and spilling into Ed’s mouth with a cry so loud that the neighbours would definitely be demanding they shut up any minute, if they had any.

As such, he can only conclude, as he melts back into the pillows, that they’re alone at this end of the motel, and they can do anything they want.

“You okay?” Ed asks, flopping down beside him and pushing the hair back from his brow. “We can stop there if you need—“

“I’m no quitter.”

It comes out so determined that Ed’s brows jump. “Cool. Uh, whatever you need, then.”

He reaches down between them feeling sort of… disintegrated, really, just floating in this realm between orgasms, as his body tells him he’s hit his limit and his brain refuses to accept that. Ed’s getting hard again, and a few more strokes of his cock bring him fully back. Stede knows exactly what he needs.

“Fuck me again,” Stede says, and then remembers to add, “please.”

“So polite,” Ed says, and dips his head to suck a bruising kiss into Stede’s throat. “You sure?”

He nods. “But… not here.”

Ed lifts a brow even higher. “Where? On the carpet? Bet we’re not the first people to fuck down there.”

“Or even the fiftieth,” Stede says, wrinkling his nose. “I think… let’s say no to the carpet. For now.” He squeezes Ed’s thigh. “Over there. I want to watch the world go by while you make love to me.”

Ed doesn’t ask, just follows Stede over to the window, where he locates the string to lift the bent and rickety blinds, one pull after another, until they’re all the way at the top. Ed switches off the lamp, and they’re plunged into darkness, invisible. Out there, there’s just the railing of the motel walkway, the mostly empty carpark lit with a single dull bulb, and the highway that takes people to and from their different worlds. Beyond that, darkness, no way to see what the environment is like here. But he feels the expanse of meadow and mountain and river and sea, the patchwork of it everywhere, all connected.

Nothing on earth is isolated from everything else. Not even them at this transition point in their lives, hovering between what was and what will be, above the canopy, with no idea if they can fly or if they’ll fall and crash to earth together.

They’re linked to every other living thing on this planet, one way or another. But first and foremost, to each other.

He presses his hands to the windowsill and his forehead to the glass, pushing backwards into Ed as Ed comes up behind him, cradling his hips with gentle hands. “Got more lube. Don’t want you too sore.”

That’s not a concern he has right now, but god, the fact that Ed cares so consistently for him makes him feel so very loved that it hooks inside him, threatens to unravel him if he thinks about it too hard. All he wants is more, addicted to that feeling of being joined with Ed. At this point he doesn’t even care if he comes again; he’s already had multiple orgasms, already met the prompts. He just wants.

“I appreciate that,” he tells Ed, and pushes back into him. “Could you…?”

Ed huffs out a laugh, clicks the cap of the bottle, drizzles it over Stede’s heated flesh and makes him hiss. And then his fingers are sliding inside again, barely any resistance now, because he’s that fucked open. He’s not firming up again this time, and that’s all right. Because Ed’s behind him, bumping against him every time he moves, leaving cool wet trails from the leaking tip of his cock against Stede’s ass. He clicks the lube closed, tosses it aside.

And then he’s back again, one hand on Stede’s hip, the other pressing his cock to Stede’s hole. “Good?”

“Good. Please.”

The slide of Ed’s hardness into him makes him moan more harshly this time, something deep and primal. Every time, there’s more sensation. He’s almost shivery with it, feels it somewhere in his teeth. Ed moves slowly, fucking into him with a glacial drag. When he glances back over his shoulder, Ed’s eyes are dark and watchful, and he slides a hand over Stede’s lower back and thrusts in again.

“Good?”

“Always good. Keep going.” He throws an arm up against the glass and rests his forehead there, staring out into the night. The glass is streaked, the street lamp breaking the darkness outside, but he can still see a few of the more stubborn stars glittering up there. No matter where they are, the stars are still there, even if they can’t be seen.

No matter what happens with he and Ed, that love is still going to be shining the same way.

Ed presses closer behind him, shuffles him forward against the window, so that they’re moulded together, Ed’s arm hooked around his waist, Ed’s chin on his shoulder. “You’re mine,” he says, and Stede knows he’s remembering yesterday, when it was Stede fucking him just like this, telling him the exact same thing. “I’d lay down my fucking life for you any day, you know that?”

Stede sucks in a breath as Ed thrusts again, still slow, slow, and deep, pressing him against the window with a squeak of chest on glass. “I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“I won’t have to.” Ed kisses his ear. “Got so much more to do together. You know when this list ends?”

He does, all too well, in only a handful of days. “Too soon.”

“Yeah, well, we’re going to start a new list.”

“Oh?”

Ed bites his shoulder gently. “Gonna be a cool list, but with a twist.”

God, why is Ed’s voice suddenly the thing that’s overcoming those physical limits again, making his cock throb. “And what’s that?” he gets out breathlessly.

“It’s not going to tell us what to do,” Ed says. Stede’s pressed flush against the glass now, where anyone could see him, and he does not care. Just takes it, and takes it, face twisted to the side where Ed can kiss him. “We’re going to tell it what to do. An after the fact list.”

Another thrust. “So you’re saying we just… do whatever we want. Add it to the list when we’re done.”

“Yep.” Ed nips his ear, grinds deep inside him. “Sound good?”

“Sounds incredible. Because I—oh, fuck, Ed—I don’t think I can manage without this.”

“Never going to stop, babe.”

“Never?”

Ed chuckles against his neck. “Never.” His breath hitches again, hips stuttering. “I’m close. You?”

He takes his cock in hand, half hard now, almost aching with how turned on he is. The mind is willing, even if the flesh is tired. “I’m not sure. But god, I’d like you to fill me up again.”

“Refill,” Ed says, amused, teeth scraping over his neck. “Got it.”

He closes his eyes as Ed fucks him harder, holding his cock, somewhat helpless to do anything but rock into his fist. And then Ed shifts his angle a little, and suddenly he’s hitting that sparking ignition point inside Stede again, and his breath is coming short. In only a few more thrusts he’s made it to full hardness, breath ragged, knees going weak.

“Please,” he murmurs, almost more to himself than to Ed. “Pleasepleaseplease—“

Ed grunts with effort, fingers gripping bruise tight over Stede’s hips. “Fuck, I’m almost there, fuck, are you—“

“Ed,” he tries to get out, tries to say what this is doing to him, but it escapes his throat as one long groan as the overwhelming sensation crashes over him and his cock jerks, spilling one last time as Ed clutches him tight and pulses inside him.

He almost drops, but Ed’s got him under the arms, hauling him back toward the bed and dropping him down onto it, crawling over him and kissing his face. “Fuck, that was incredible. Fuck, are you okay?”

He nods, feeling the tears welling up and spilling over, just like they did for Ed last week. Ed thumbs them away, kisses his cheeks, his eyelids. “You were incredible, Christ, that was—fuck, I’m going to be thinking about that for a year, mate.”

“Maybe we’ll do it again before a year’s up.” He can’t even keep his eyes open, just laughing in an exhausted haze. “You could keep me like this, you know. Ready for you whenever you want me.”

“Always,” Ed whispers, kissing his chin, folding himself around him, squeezing him tight. “Never going to stop wanting you. Never going to let you go.”

The number of times they’ve had to reassure one another of this is starting to do something uncomfortable to his chest, ratcheting up the tension there. He truly doesn’t know what’s waiting for them on the other end, just that they have to get there, and move the chess pieces, and see what’s played back at them.

He’s not ready, but Ed is, and if Ed is, then he will be.

“I love you,” he murmurs, as Ed wipes him down with a cool towel, rolls him further into the bed, and spoons him from behind. “I love you so damn much.”

Ed squeezes him so tightly that he can hardly breathe for a second. “I love you, Stede. Whatever happens, this has been worth it.”

~

Ed’s reassessing that the next morning as he stands outside the Shuttlecock office, the last couple of hours of the drive wrapped up early because they woke at dawn and couldn’t go back to sleep, both humming with nervous energy. Kissed some more, fooled around a little, got nowhere after last night—god, Stede can’t even sit in his seat without shifting every ten minutes, the madman—and then decided to get this shit done.

Stede’s got his own mission today, but after what happened a couple of days ago, there’s no fucking way either of them are going to leave the other to do it alone. Together from here on out, that’s the deal.

They’ve strategised throughout the drive. Talked through what they know, what they don’t, what they need, who they need it from. How to get it, and yeah, okay, there’s been more than a little breaking down of how Tree Change has gone about similar things, not that they’re going to take a television show as an instruction manual, but there’s good logic in there! Also they fuck it up plenty, so Ed feels like they’ve learned a few goddamn lessons about hubris.

Maybe, just a little bit, it’s on their minds because—after this week has rushed past with so much insanity going on around them—the finale of the show is tomorrow. He can’t even be sure where they’ll be, just knows that they will watch it, no matter what. It’s been a commitment, this show, one that they’ve made over the last three years, and he’s going to see it through. It’s what Rupert and Tāne would do themselves, probably. It feels important.

“So you’re saying you first knew Jackie in a past fandom,” Stede says, pocketing the shed keys as he comes up beside Ed, having chucked all the company gear in there. “Which one?”

“We don’t talk about it,” Ed says. “Like, don’t mention the war shit, you know what I mean?”

Stede grimaces. “That bad?”

Ed just shakes his head. “You have no idea.” Stede’s new to fandom. Not new to nerding out over media, but Tree Change is somehow the first time he’s gone so all in that he’s found his way into social spaces and transformative works and cons, and shit, hey. The next con they’ll get to go to, they’ll officially be together, and that thought has Ed fizzing a little.

Ed, though, he’s been through the fucking wringer with media, more times than he can count. And Jackie? He’s been reading her fics for years, followed her from one fandom to another, and because it’s always been the way with them, just pretended outright they had no idea who they each were when they fetched up in the same workplace.

He knows she knows as well as he does. Jackie’s too fucking smart to miss that.

“So I suppose that’s not much of a bargaining chip, then, hmm?” Stede say brightly. “Might be better to keep on pretending, appeal some other way.”

“Nah, I know she’s watching Tree Change, using a new pseud. All we’ve gotta do is use the right references and she’ll know exactly what we mean. That easy.”

Nothing’s ever that easy, and Ed’s cursing it ten minutes later as he sits in the kitchen with Jackie, watching Stede keeping Jeffrey from legal occupied on the other side of the room. He’s there for a diversion if it’s ever needed, and meanwhile Ed’s trying his ass off, and it’s not getting him far.

“You ever think about the man?” Ed says.

Jackie snorts. “That man? Hell no, you can keep him.”

“I will, thanks.” He glances at her, finds her grinning at him. “I meant, you know. The man. Keeping all of us down in the gutter, lording it up.”

“Jackie’s independently wealthy,” she says, a little sharply. “I do this job so I don’t get bored.”

Ed blinks. “This—fucking accounting?”

“Accounting’s a cool as fuck job,” she says, tapping the fingers of her wooden hand on the table. “You want something specific, Teach?”

“Uh…”

Fuck, he’s tried dancing around it. Asked her outright how she thought Rupert and Tāne were going to pull shit back from the brink in the finale, went with a how about that Maxwell asshole, am I right? Told her they’d been out on a remote property, felt like an episode of the show, put his eyebrow up as high as it would go to get the message across that it really was like an episode of the show, and no dice. She’d just told him they’d see what happened in the finale, said fuck Maxwell, said that what happens on TV stays on TV, and fuck.

Over on the other side of the room, Stede lets out a high-pitched laugh as he finishes whatever story he’s telling, and Jeffrey slaps his thigh as he cracks up. The grin creeps over Ed’s lips unintentionally, and Jackie elbows him. “Suits him, being with you.”

He swivels a bit to look at her, because that’s… something. “You love love, huh?”

Jackie beams. “You know it.”

“How’s the Swede?” Her latest husband used to work here, too, damn good auditor, but now he’s shifted over to her other business.

“Dungeon’s keeping him busy, but we’re good.” She leans in, not taking her eyes off Stede. “Fucks like a jackhammer.”

Ed chokes a little on his coffee. “Cool. Great.” He sighs, because he’s going to have to take the risk here. “I do want something, you were right.” He leans in closer to her. “That guy? I’m in love with him, too. Fucking bowled over, head over heels.”

“That’s not news to anyone but you guys.” She sniffs. “He insults my plant. But he’s good for you, huh? I’ve got eyes.”

“He is good for me. He’s very fucking good for me. And if we don’t do something to fix up the shit that’s going on, I’m afraid…” He takes a breath, meets her eye again. “I’m afraid one of us, both of us, are going to get killed before we get to have a future at all.”

To her credit, she barely blinks. “You got yourself mixed up in some shit.”

“We did. Environmental shit, because we care. We really fucking care, you know?” He leans in closer, decides to take the leap. “Tree’s rotten from the top down here. Badmintons are all wrapped up in a conspiracy with Carmody and Hopscotch to hide waste contamination. Nearly took out some of our best people a couple of days ago with a dynamite rig, and I’m not going to let them win.” The coffee cup clinks against the table as he sets it down a little too hard. “I’m just not. I need your help.”

Jackie stares at him for a long few seconds, appraising. Stede makes some kind of owl noise over there, and Jeffrey laughs his ass off, and she sighs. “I’m listening.”

The relief floods over him, and he slumps back in his seat. “Thank you.”

She wags a finger in his face. “Not so fast. You’re going to owe me.”

He grits his teeth. “What?”

Another glance around the break room. “Long fic. Something real fancy, plenty of fucking.”

He can hardly contain the laugh that bubbles up. “Got you covered next month, I promise.”

She grins. “All right, then. Talk.”

~

This morning had all gone much more swimmingly than Stede anticipated, which always leaves him feeling paradoxically more anxious. Jackie had agreed to help, to risk her position as manager of accounting to get hold of the records they need to prove that Carmody has been double-paying Shuttlecock, because Ed’s sure that’s what’s happening, just like it happened in Tree Change.

Mary had tried to get the same kind of records from Hopscotch, but at the time, she just knew there was something wrong, not what, and yes, they’ve been able to identify a long-standing association between what should be two rival environmental companies through those records. That’s already a lot. But they need more, now that they know what they’re looking for.

And Stede knows exactly how to get it, which is precisely why he’s walking around his bedroom now, digging suits out of the auxiliary wardrobe and tossing them on the bed, where Ed sits looking somewhere between bewildered and awed.

The phone’s propped up on the bedside table, on speaker, and Mary’s on the other end, squinting at him through the video from thousands of miles away. “Stede? Are you listening?”

“I am,” he says, holding up a light blue linen suit in one hand, and a brown corduroy in the other. It’s maybe a touch too warm for the corduroy, but it certainly says serious business much more than the blue. “I’m just trying to work out the right impression.”

Mary sighs. “Can you do something about this, Ed?”

Ed snaps a salute in her direction, comes across and steers him out of the closet, dropping him onto the bed, where the warmth of Ed’s body is still radiating from the mattress, right where Stede always dreamed of having him. But his ex-wife is staring at him from the phone, and Ed’s disappeared into the closet, and Stede packs those thoughts away and turns to her. “You got there safely?”

“I did, Doug and the kids were right there at the airport. No dramas.”

“Good, good, I’m very glad to hear it. I want you safe.”

“I want you safe.” She rubs her hands over her face. “I know this is very important, Stede, but I just… I want you to think about your capacity, what you can do and what you can’t do. Like, give it some really serious thought before you decide you’re some kind of superhero—“

“Eco-pirate, I think you’ll find it’s called.”

“Fuck me. Okay, eco-pirate.” She scrunches her whole face. “Are you? I mean I believe it of Ed, but…”

“Maybe don’t finish that sentence, hmm? As needs must, and we’re going to work it out together. Izzy’s trained me well.” He can almost hear the echo of Izzy in the back of his head, not that well, you absolute twat, but it’s fine. It’s fine! “I saved Ed’s life two days ago and I have absolutely no plans to stop doing that, no matter what.”

He lets that hang between them, grateful for the genuine concern on Mary’s face. “We love you, you know that? I know it’s been hard.”

“But we’re all where we need to be now,” he says. “It’s going to be fine. I love you all too.”

They walk through the final protocols, and then he takes a moment to talk to the kids, tells them he loves them, signs off before Ed can make it back out of the wardrobe, before he can burst into sobbing, terrified tears about what’s coming for them all, because that just made it very real. This is not his boring life, and hell, he already misses that a bit, when he never thought he would.

Ed pops out the door, holding up a black suit bag. “Hey. I think I’ve found a winner.”

Stede pushes himself up and goes over to meet him. “You know how many times I imagined having you here in this apartment as my boyfriend?”

“Probably as many times as I imagined you at my place, yeah.”

“I ached to fuck you in that bed, Edward.”

Ed’s eyes dart to the neatly made-up king-sized bed, and back to his, wide and bright. “You did?”

“I did. And in that wardrobe, pressed into all the fancy fabrics. And in the living room, riding you on that couch. And in the kitchen, on my knees for you, and—“

“Fuck, okay, I hear you.” He laughs, eyes crinkling, and leans in to kiss Stede. “Rain check, mate. Put this one, let’s go do the thing, and then you can take your boyfriend wherever you want, and do whatever you like with him.”

~

An hour later they’re outside the gleaming glass block that holds the Bonnet Financial offices, including Hopscotch Environmental and several of the other companies he funds, just the way they were outside Shuttlecock this morning, and Ed’s adjusting his lapels. “Fucking fantastic, you’re going to blow him away.”

“Mm,” Stede says, because he’s very much dreading this, even wearing a suit that could best be described as ruby in colour, red shirt underneath with a black collar, which Ed’s undone well past the respectable two-button limit. “Is this… is this really the best look, for facing my father?”

Ed tugs him by his lapels, pulls him right in, nudges his nose, speaks against his mouth. “Can’t think of a better distraction for the old man than his son turning up looking like he’s just been fucked by his boyfriend on the conspiracy dime for a month.”

Stede’s breath hustles out of him, and Ed kisses him, long and slow.

“You’ve got this,” he murmurs, and Stede nods. He almost doesn’t care if he doesn’t, actually, because he’s got this, and this is everything he’s ever wanted.

They go up to the entrance hand in hand, and Ed only lets him go at the last second. Offers him one finally, devastatingly gorgeous wink before they make it through the spinning doors, and Ed peels away off toward the elevators, Stede heading for the front desk instead.

The woman behind it looks up at him and does a visible double take as he leans on the counter. “Agatha, how lovely to see you again.”

Her eyes are fixed on his chest. “Mr. Bonnet, it’s been a long time!”

“I know, I know, it’s a busy old world out there.”

“And also you quit.”

He tilts his head. “I did, that’s true. But I’ve missed this place, I really have.”

Her eyes finally make it up to meet his, and she raises a brow above her wire-rimmed spectacles. “Did you have an appointment?”

“Well, no, but it’s my father’s birthday today.” Coincidental timing, almost like it was meant to be. “I thought I’d pop in and surprise him.”

“Lovely. I’ll just tell him you’re here, and—“

“Oh, if you could just buzz me through to his office, I’d love for it to be a real moment.” He does some very convincing jazz hands, mimics the sort of delighted face his father will literally never show at the sight of him, and Agatha sighs.

“All right, but if he’s not pleased—“

“I’ll tell him I sneaked past,” Stede says, winking at her. “Very sneaky, me.”

She rolls her eyes, but slightly more fondly. “You know the way.”

“I certainly do.”

He remembers it all too well, actually, not only from years of being called up there for a routine berating, but from that last day last year, when his father had asked him—long since departed from the company after the divorce—to come to his office, and had torn strips off him over the rumours he was hearing about his son coming out.

As he makes his way over to the elevators it’s all swirling in his head. He’d confirmed that he was in fact queer, his father had told him to leave, and that had been that. One of the most humiliating moments of his life, and one that had undoubtedly held him back from getting through his own insecurities and finding this happiness with Ed earlier.

He steps into the first available elevator when the doors slide open, presses the button to close them, and selects the top floor. Only when he finally looks up and catches the reflection in the silver doors does he yelp in surprise to find someone standing behind him, wearing a dark hoodie and jeans.

“Hey,” Ed says. “Sorry, you were kinda lost in your own world there, mate.”

“It’s no bother,” Stede says, heart still hammering in his throat as he remembers that he’s not supposed to know Ed. “Can I push a button for you, or—“

“Already got mine.” He nods to the bright green circle around floor three, where Hopscotch Environmental can be found, just under the one for floor four, where Stede’s going to be right above him.

The gears clank and whir, the box lifts off, and he meets Ed’s eyes in the reflection, feels his heart thump at the grin on his face. This is how Rupert and Tāne had their second meeting in the first episode of Tree Change, exactly like it, after they both turned up to wreck a tree-lopping truck that was threatening their beloved Elm of Wisdom, and the next morning met again on the elevator to the Maxwell offices. Recognised each other the instant before they discovered they were going to be working together. Fate.

The elevator pulls smoothly to a halt, the bell dings, and the doors slide open. Ed brushes past Stede as he goes out, nothing more than a glance on the way. “Take care, mate.”

He’s still catching his breath when the doors slide closed again, leaving him alone with his own reflection, and the most determined look he’s ever seen on his face.

~

“Not exactly a good sort of surprise,” his father’s saying five minutes later, pacing back and forth behind his desk. “Honestly, Stede, I thought I told you not to come back.”

“I thought perhaps you might have changed your mind about your beloved only son.” He’s got one leg crossed over the other, and he has to admit, this suit is giving him some kind of confidence. It has lovely gold embroidery at the cuffs, and it’s quite possibly the queerest item of clothing he owns. Trust Ed to have zeroed in on it so immediately. “Felt worth a try.”

“You might have called first!” His father stops before the desk, both hands planted on it, mouth twisted in a sneer. “Look at you.”

“It’s a lovely suit, I agree.” He rubs a thumb over the lapel. “Some sort of velvet, I think. Very comfortable. I can recommend—“

“You can leave,” his father says abruptly. “Unless there’s another purpose for this visit?”

The simmering anger is still there, it transpires. No matter how much water has gone under the bridge, Stede’s still angry, so incredibly angry that he had the misfortune to be born to this man, who’s so determinedly stuck on being a bigot and a bully and a criminal to boot.

Nonetheless, he prevailed. Nonetheless, he grew to be a person who fights to be kind, who fights to do what’s right. And he cannot, he cannot give the game away, no matter how much he’d like to tell his father how much he knows. “Just that,” he says. “I thought perhaps I’d be enough, but you know I never was, in the end.”

“No,” his father says, cold and dry. “No, you’ve been the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Stede stands slowly, keeps his breathing steady. Manages to smile, with precisely the same ice-cold malice on his father’s face, and says, “So far.”

He doesn’t get a chance to flick his lapels and spin into the dramatic exit he had planned, because the next moment, the air erupts with the long wail of the fire alarm, rising to a high pitch before it whoops again, urgent. They only have time to look to the ceiling before the sprinklers suddenly open, and the next moment there’s a cascade of water pouring down, drenching everything.

Stede lets out a marginally hysterical laugh as his father screams in rage, scrabbling on his desk to gather up papers and shove them in drawers, flinching back from his computer as it begins to spark and smoke. “Don’t just stand there, do something!”

Stede backs toward the door. “I’ll do as I’m told, Father.” He does a little loop toward the ceiling with his finger. “Make like a tree… and leave.”

He whirls away and dashes for the emergency exit stairs, bubble light and laughing, because he knows this moment all too well from Tree Change, and god, it’s fitting that Ed’s used it, that they’ve earned this for themselves. He slams through the door and crashes bodily into Ed, who’s waiting on the other side, also utterly drenched and laughing, and he manages to catch Ed in his arms and kiss him soundly.

Just like Rupert and Tāne at the end of season one, flooding the Maxwell Corporation offices when they confirmed their mentor was part of the conspiracy.

“Did you get it?” Stede asks breathlessly, and Ed pulls open his coat like a noir spy to show a sheaf of papers.

“Course I did. Mary’s card buzzed me in no problems, everyone was too busy staring at their computers to notice a hot eco-pirate waltzing right into their records room.”

Stede kisses him again, the alarm ringing so loudly in his ears now that he can barely hear anything else above the constant buzz it’s causing in his frazzled eardrums. “I suppose we should actually get out of here, if you… Ed, wait, did you… did you set the office on fire?”

He snorts. “Haven’t done a good arson in a while. Just messed with the alarm, set a little one in a bin to make sure the sprinklers would go off, too.”

He’s going to carry this memory with him forever. “My father was so angry, god, it was delightful.”

“Fuck him. Fuck him forever, Stede, we don’t ever have to see him outside a witness stand again.”

“Good.” He knows exactly what he wants now. “Take me back to your place, please.”

~

It is different, being at Ed’s place as boyfriends, which is pretty fucking clear the moment they come staggering through the door, already kissing. They make it as far as the couch and crash down onto it.

“The prompts,” Ed gasps out. “What are the fucking prompts?”

Stede, of course, knows the answer. “Snowballing, which we’ve both agreed we’re not into. And role-play,” he says, sounding pained. “God, Ed, we’ve done so much role-play this month, it’s hard to even imagine what’s left.”

“Is it that hard?” Ed can’t help but grin. “I dunno, always seems to be an endless well of ideas when it comes to fics. All we have to do is come up with a scenario and make it happen in real time.”

Stede looks around the room, and Ed follows his gaze. They’re not in the cabin anymore. No, they’re in Ed’s apartment, which looks exactly like it did the day he left it to go out there to the middle of nowhere, and exactly like it has for the last three years, while he’s pined over Stede and watched Tree Change with Stede and imagined fucking Stede right where he’s sitting.

Stede turns back and meets his gaze, and that new understanding zaps between them. Funny how a month ago the two of them were beaming love at each other every fucking day, and neither of them got it, but now all it takes is a single glance and Ed can read his damn mind.

“We could just be… us,” he says, and Stede nods.

“We got to live Tāne and Rupert’s lives out there, for a minute. Easy to slip into their world. But now we’re here, and…”

He trails away, and Ed shifts a bit in his chair, thinking, thinking. He remembers the first time Stede ever came here, when Ed had had their newly discovered mutual love of Tree Change as an excuse to ask him over. And Stede had sat right there on this couch, looking as nervous as he does now, and Ed had sat right there in that armchair and tried to concentrate on the show.

“Half the time I was thinking about sucking your dick,” he says, and then he realises he said it out loud and bites his lip a little. “Uh. When you were here.” Stede’s still staring at him. “Sorry?”

“Ed,” he says hoarsely. “I think we should go back.”

“To the… cabin?” His brows fly high. “Sorry, mate, I think we just torched that opportunity.”

“To the past,” he says, and his hands are already moving to his belt. “Two years ago. You asked me over to watch Tree Change, and I said yes, and I spent the whole time so mesmerised by your face that I barely heard a word of it.”

“Fuck, we were idiots.” It’s become his constant refrain lately.

“We’re much smarter now,” Stede says, and flicks through his button. “Edward. Is there… is there some reason you keep staring at me? Something you’d like to ask?”

Just like that, he’s jolted back to that day, just as nervous about it, but with the confidence of knowing how the fuck things turn out. He lets a grin spread. “Yeah, mate. I, uh. I didn’t just ask you over to watch the show.”

Stede’s brows fly up. “No? Needed some helpful information about your indoor plant care?”

He can’t help the snort that escapes, but he’s serious again when he slides off the chair onto his knees. “Nah, that wasn’t it. Not even close.”

“What, then? Help with a fic title? Is there something on the floor?”

He manages to sound so fucking clueless that it makes Ed laugh. Stede always makes him laugh, no matter what’s going on. Ed makes it in between the cradle of his thighs, pushes them wider. Looks up at him through his lashes. “You’re a real fucking menace, you know that?”

Stede blinks down at him innocently, pushes a strand of hair behind his ear. “I don’t know what you mean, Ed. I’ve never done a thing wrong in my life.”

Ed traces the seam of his jeans up to the bulge of his cock. Leans in close enough for his breath to pool there, all hot, and he feels Stede shudder as he looks up again. “Perfect time to start, then.”

He presses his lips to the outline of Stede’s cock, and Stede gasps. “Ed, are you… are you lost?”

He drops his forehead to Stede’s thigh as he snorts with laughter, hand hooked loosely around his calf. Fuck, he’s gone all in on the role-play, just like that. Both feet, always does. He leans back to kneel, and looks this perfect, brilliant idiot of a man in the face, like he should have absolutely months ago. “Stede. I know you’re straight. I know we work together. But I have some feelings for you that I can’t stop thinking about, and I’d fucking love it if you let me suck your cock about it.”

Stede’s got a hand pressed to his chest, cheeks flushed, breath coming fast. “Oh.”

Ed lets his fingers wander back to Stede’s calf, because he needs that bit of grounding while Stede’s being a little too effective with his acting. This is always how he feared it would go, if he got brave enough to say something. He probably wasn’t wrong. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s all right, mate, and I’m sorry to have bothered you. I know I just made everything awkward, but we can forget it. I won’t mention it again.”

This is far too fucking immersive. He’s right back to all those heart-pounding moments of fearing Stede would be offended by it, show some true colours Ed had never seen. Worse than that, tell him he really wasn’t interested, that Ed had just fucked up their friendship forever.

“Ed,” Stede says, voice low. “Look at me, please.”

He does. Drags his eyes up to meet Stede’s, and finds him staring back so softly. “I had no idea you felt like that. About me.”

His heart is pounding. He manages to shrug. “Yeah, well, you’re fucking fascinating, mate. And built like a fridge, sexiest calves I’ve ever seen, face of an angel—“

“You might be laying it on a bit thick now.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

“Edward,” Stede says, like he can’t possibly get enough of Ed’s name in his mouth. “I think I’m ready to try something new.”

He shouldn’t be feeling disbelief after three weeks of fucking Stede senseless, but he does, somehow. It comes out hopeful. “Yeah?”

Stede reaches out and laces his fingers through Ed’s hair, just the gentlest tug. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you. Didn’t really understand why, just thought you were lovely. You are lovely. But now that you’re down there on your knees for me—“

“Is this… in character?”

“Shh.”

Stede shifts his other hand to unbutton his jeans fully, tugs down the zip. Shuffles around there until he manages to release his cock, which is hard as hell, all for Ed. “Now that you’re down there on your knees for me, I see the error of my ways. And… I also think you should suck my cock about it.”

Ed lets out his breath. “You… want me?”

“Edward. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life.”

And that, he really does have to suck Stede’s cock over. He takes it slow, letting his past self enjoy this a little, too, like it’s really the first time he’s tasted Stede. Feels his way down Stede’s shaft with his tongue, lets the stretch really sit in his cheeks. Sucks him off until he’s drooling with it, until Stede’s gasping over him, getting out the phrase. “You can take more, I know you can.”

He proves it, sinking deeper, and then Stede’s tensing, and then he’s spilling.

And Ed, just like that first day in the cabin, he’s so fucking turned on still, always, that it only takes him a few tugs of his own cock before he’s coming on the floorboards, almost laughing at the insane mirror of it all. First days, then and now.

He drags himself back up onto the couch, and slides in against Stede, exhausted as hell. He could sleep for a fucking week after all this, but he knows he’s not going to get the chance yet. “Think you should examine your sexual orientation, mate.”

Stede leans against him, laughing. “Goodness. I think I know who I am now, Ed. I think I’m in love with you, actually.”

“Zero to sixty,” Ed says, amused. “I like you a bit, too.”

They melt together, comfortable as fuck, and Ed’s somehow entirely relaxed, despite all the mayhem going on around them.

“I can’t believe we’ve managed to keep this going despite everything,” Stede says, sounding faintly amused about it. “You know that Maslow’s hierarchy of needs says that after the basic physical needs, personal security is the most important thing before self-actualisation can occur?”

Ed wheezes out a laugh. “Only you would talk about kink fucking in the same sentence as Maslow’s goddamn hierarchy of needs.”

“It’s a recognised theory!” Stede protests. “I suppose it’s a good indicator of how safe I feel with you, no matter how the storm is rattling the windows around us.”

And fuck, they’re rattling, aren’t they? There’s always something going on now.

Ed squeezes his hand reassuringly, but sure enough like clockwork, there’s a ding on Stede’s phone to interrupt, and he leans down to hook up his discarded jeans and rifles through the pocket until he manages to get it out.

“All okay?”

Stede frowns at the screen. “Security alert, at… at Mary’s place.” He looks up at Ed, halfway between baffled and worried. “They’ve got me set up as their outside contact, because of the kids. Mary’s gone with Doug and the kids, of course, they’re nowhere near this, but…”

He swipes the phone open, taps through to the app, and pulls up the camera feed. Ed peers over his shoulder as it buffers and then comes clear.

“What the hell?”

There are police officers at Mary’s door. Several of them, or at least dressed like police officers. Because at the centre of the group is a familiar face, greying now, but he still strikes the same kind of fear through Ed as he always has, makes the breath seize up in his chest.

“Fucking Hornigold,” Ed whispers.

As they watch, the group smash in Mary’s door, and then there’s Hornigold’s face looming large in the camera. An ugly grin, tapping his nose with a finger, I know something secret, a second before the feed goes dark.

Ed’s up a second later, hauling Stede after him. The hierarchy of needs just shifted all over again, and there’s only one thought in his mind. “Out. We’ve got to get out. Mary’s card, fuck, they’ve traced that because we used it earlier. They know we took shit.”

“Ed.” Stede grabs at his arm, his voice steady. “Where are we going?”

“Only place I know we’ll be safe for real.”

The game’s just changed in the biggest way yet, and he will not fucking wait to see what happens next. They’re going to meet this head on, but for that? They need the team.

Chapter Text

Stede’s alarm goes off the next morning, jerking him out of sleep and into an immediate state of panic, before his brain can even catch up to why. It’s dark, and it’s quiet, and the bed’s unfamiliar, but all of a sudden Ed’s arms are around him, easing him back down onto the mattress, hushing in his ear.

His heart’s hammering a hundred miles an hour as he folds in against Ed, lets Ed wrap him up tightly, remembering everything in one great rush.

Yesterday, god, they’d stolen those documents from Hopscotch, and he’d waltzed out of his father’s life feeling on top of the world. And then he’d watched Ed’s old mentor break down Mary’s door in retaliation, and thank god she’s as far away as possible right now. That’s his children’s home, those are his father’s grandchildren, that asshole, because he knows his father’s involved in this. That’s where Stede’s family lives, and if there was a fire lit beneath him before, then he’s truly ready to burn it all down now.

He knows where he is now, yes, at Zheng’s place. Remembers the tense, quiet drive there from Ed’s apartment, as Ed explained that Zheng had feared something like this might happen, had given him the address and told him to come there if he needed anything.

Well, they certainly need her now.

On the way, Ed had filled him in on Hornigold, who’d been the first environmental scientist Ed worked for fresh out of university, and who, it turned out, had been an eco-pirate himself. Taught Ed and Izzy everything they knew, above and below the line.

Shifted gradually to the far extremes of what they were doing, until Ed was properly terrified of the man, and then rolled over—just like that—and suddenly worked for the environmental protection authority instead.

“Little fucking fast for that kind of switch, I always thought, and now I get it,” Ed had said. “He didn’t go straight at all, he’s just corrupt as fuck instead, using the system for his own gains, from the inside. And he’s up to his neck in whatever this is, and it’s personal, because of me.”

It seems they’ve both ended up with personal involvement here, and it’s not very optimal.

They’d arrived at Zheng’s place after a drive that wove through town and out into the outskirts, into an industrial area, and it quickly became apparent that Zheng had also reached out to everyone else, too. Over the course of the evening the whole crew had gathered in dribs and drabs, and every new knock on the door had sent Stede’s heart into his throat, and every new team member walking through it had soothed him a little bit more.

Zheng’s place is enormous, a converted warehouse. It’s a building that contains the Red Flag offices on the bottom floor and several apartments on the upper two, hers the penthouse, but she owns them all, and they seem to be full of her crew. Stede has very quickly re-evaluated everything he thought he knew about Zheng, because it’s clear there’s more going on with her than he’d anticipated, looking at the scale of the operation and the secrecy of it all. He’s asked exactly what work she does, but she’s told him all in good time, and he supposes that he does have to wait for that.

Last night the crew had gathered in the big sunken lounge at the centre of the apartment, the floor covered in beautiful woven rugs, surrounded by big sectional lounges in deep red. The high ceiling features fantastic sculptural lights, globes of red and orange that set a warm glow of light against the wood panelling of the floor and the walls, makes the whole place feel lovely and cosy, despite the big windows looking out over the cold darkness of the industrial neighbourhood.

Ed had explained everything to Zheng and the crew, while Stede pressed gratefully against his side and didn’t have to say a word. Ed had talked through the day’s activities at Shuttlecock and Hopscotch, the outcome of the stolen documents, the confidence they both have now about the way the pieces fit together in this conspiracy. Halfway through Jackie and the Swede had turned up, too, Izzy not far behind them, and Mary had called through on video. It really did feel like the whole team was together again.

They’ve got a plan now, and today they’re going to start moving on it. He and Ed had been offered their own room, while most of the rest of the crew was bunking down together in the lounge, ranged out on air mattresses and couches like an enormous slumber party. Stede had been about to protest, to argue that they should be with the rest of the crew, but one look at Ed’s face had told him they needed to take it, and he’s grateful they did. They spent the whole night wrapped up in each other, just holding one another, just being together, and today everything might change.

But first—the realisation hits him low in his gut, with such force that it knocks the air out of him. First, everything changes in one of the most important parts of his life over the last three years, as Tree Change comes to an end.

Right here, right now, today.

One glance at Ed shows he’s thinking the same thing. “You ready for the finale?”

Stede shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

His hierarchy of needs is wobbling, because god, this show has slipped into his cracking foundations and shored them up in a way he’d never anticipated. He couldn’t have known how much it would come to mean to him, how completely it would redefine his life; look where they are, damn it! Everything’s rolling together here, and the show and what they’re mixed up in now hardly feel like two separate things. It’s never been more important to see Rupert and Tāne win the day, and this is the ultimate moment, the final ever moment, and Stede needs it. He needs them to win.

Ed strokes his cheek, slides his hand down over Stede’s neck, rests gently where his pulse is thumping. “Hey, uh. Your alarm went off an hour early.”

He squints at his phone, because that can’t be—“Oh. Oh, I suppose it did.”

He has a vague memory of setting it like that the night before, when they were in that motel, and god, how has so much happened in the last few days? He snuggles in closer to Ed, almost twitching with nerves. He’d love to get the finale over with, just watch the show immediately, deal with whatever happens in that fictional world before he has to deal with whatever’s happening in reality.

But he can’t, because it’s not on yet. He has to wait.

Ed’s watching him in the dim light, shifting to stroke light circles on his shoulder with his thumb, every touch soothing. Outside their room the penthouse is still quiet, nobody else awake yet. Probably all smart enough to set their alarms for a reasonable hour, to claw out every bit of rest they can get.

“Hey,” Ed says, voice dropping lower. “Uh. Maybe we should get today’s prompts done early. Pass the time, you know.”

Stede sets his forehead against Ed’s, grateful for him all over again. “It’s not very private, is it?”

“Wasn’t in that tent the other day, either.”

Everything had felt so much more joyful and free then. Right now it feels… tense. “What are today’s prompts, anyway?”

He’s completely lost track, but Ed digs under his pillow and pulls out—well. That’s Stede’s black and grey bandana from the first day, that he’d used to tie back his hair and then never given back. Stede’s spotted it looped around his neck, in his hair, peeking out of his khaki vest like a little pocket square, and every time it prompts a little swell of possessive delight somewhere deep inside him, a little sense that it marks the way Ed belongs to him.

“Muzzles,” Ed says with a curving grin, and Stede has a jolting memory of the very first day of all this, in the supply closet at Shuttlecock, reading the list and trying to make sense of it.

Everything makes so much more sense now. They’ve come so far. “That doesn’t look like any of the muzzles I’ve seen.”

Ed’s eyes glint with amusement. “Been searching that one, huh?”

“I’ve searched a lot of things. I did search that one, yes.” It had baffled him at the time, but of course as soon as he’d looked it up, he’d understood what it was talking about. Bondage-style muzzles, black leather strapped over the nose and mouth, and it might be a touch too far. “I think I like your idea better.”

Ed twirls the bandanna on his finger. “Emergency measures. Whole principle of a muzzle is just to cover up the face, help the other person feel submissive.”

“I mean it’s really just a fancy word for a gag at this point.” Stede toys with the nipple, enjoys the way Ed squirms against his thigh. “You want to be submissive for me?”

Ed’s eyes go impossibly wide, his breath drawing in sharply, and he nods. And then he flaps the bandanna open, folds it into a triangle, like he’s placing a napkin at a fancy dinner party, and drapes it over his face with the point between his eyes. “Goes over the mouth, not in it.”

Stede traces his cheek, his neck, the bits he can see around the bandanna. “I’m not sure. I like to see your face when I’m taking you to pieces.” Ed whines a little, and Stede bends in to kiss him through the fabric, leaving a wet patch against the shape of Ed’s lips. “I suppose I’ll have to find other ways to watch, if you can be good for me?”

“I can,” Ed whispers. “Fuck yeah.”

So yes, Stede’s up for the challenge. He pushes Zheng and the rest of the crew out of his mind, and bustles around to prepare, digging out the lubricant first of all, peeling Ed out of his pyjamas. After a little digging through the bag of clothing, he discovers that Ed’s brought his favourite dark teal velvet robe, and Stede pulls the tie from that and innovates, looping it around Ed’s wrists to tie him to the bedframe, while Ed watches him with deep, dark eyes above the bandanna, breathing hard.

That done, he pops over to double check that the door’s locked. Strips out of his own pair of Ed’s pyjamas that Ed had hastily shoved in a bag with a handful of other clothes last night, and goes back across to the low bed.

“Look at you,” Stede murmurs reverently, sitting on the edge, tracing a path up Ed’s shin, over his knee, watching his cock twitch and drip. “Just waiting for me, aren’t you?”

Ed nods frantically, and then seems to remember he can talk beneath the fabric. “Swallowing.”

Stede pauses, his thumb resting just beside Ed’s balls. “Pardon?”

“The other prompt,” Ed says from under his mask, and Stede chuckles.

“Are you asking me for something, Edward? Because you’ll need to ask nicely. Say please.”

Ed’s eyes almost roll up into his head as he moans and squirms. “Please. Sir.”

God, Stede’s into that, and the way Ed always says it so low in his throat. It really does go directly to his cock every time. “I think it might be hard for you to swallow anything with your face covered.” He reaches down to stroke his own cock as he says it, letting the sparks gather as Ed’s eyes drop there, his chest heaving, his hips completely unable to stay still as he writhes.

He hums, trying to sound entirely more collected than he is. “I suppose my face isn’t covered.”

“Please,” Ed whispers. “Please suck my cock.”

Stede traces a hand down over his belly, ruffles the thicker hair there, already matted with slick. Avoids touching Ed’s cock at all, just touches around it, strokes all the way down to the seam beneath his balls. Ed’s almost quivering now, his expressive eyes spelling out everything he’s thinking very clearly.

Stede shuffles around to find himself a place kneeling between Ed’s thighs, where he can trace over the line of Ed’s cock and admire it up close. “That first day in the broom closet,” he says, and feels Ed’s thighs tense around his waist. “I don’t know what came over me. I’d been dreaming about you for so long, hoping for something that I didn’t feel brave enough to beg for, and then there you were offering it to me on a platter, and all I could think about was how desperately I needed you. Needed this.”

He settles his fingers around Ed’s cock, and gives him a loving stroke, watching the fluid bead and spill from the tip. Ed’s biting back his moans, he knows, because they are surrounded by the crew. All of whom are queer and out and so easy with their affection, and he has a sudden swell of gratitude for the way the show brought him these people and this new sense of self, the confidence he has now in reducing his boyfriend to a quivering wreck.

“I just… blacked out a bit. My body took over.” He dips down and presses his nose to the smooth side of Ed’s shaft, breathes him in. Remembers quite viscerally the overwhelming sensation of being on his knees on the hard floor of the closet in the pitch dark, guided only by touch and taste and smell as he scrambled to get his mouth around Ed’s cock the way he’d been imagining for months upon months.

“You felt better than I could have imagined in my mouth. Tasted so lovely, too.” He licks along Ed’s length, and Ed swears as he jerks and twists. “I should have known that it was going to be an incurable addiction right there and then.”

He’s had hyperfixations in his life. Hell, the show is a very current example. But there’s nothing he’s ever been quite so obsessed with as Ed. He gives himself over to the indulgence of having Ed in his mouth, pulling the satisfying weight of Ed’s cock in and over his tongue. He’s stroking and touching as he sucks, one hand around the base of Ed’s cock, the other wandering around Ed’s ass to his hip and back again, sliding into his crack, and he doesn’t miss the muffled gasp Ed makes, or the way he presses instantly back into Stede’s touch.

He slides off, watching Ed’s cock gleam with his spit. “Would you like that, if I opened you up while I did this?”

Ed nods frantically, eyes closed. “Please.”

“Please…?”

Ed’s breathing stutters. “Please sir.”

He kisses the inside of Ed’s thigh, turns it into a nip at the last moment that makes him yelp, high-pitched. “I could never deny you anything you want, darling.”

He leans across to retrieve the lube and in no time has his fingers slicked up and pressed inside Ed as he goes back to the business of driving him wild. He’s gotten very good at this, he’s not afraid to say. Practice makes perfect, what do you know? And Ed’s an excellent teacher. It takes him no time to find Ed’s prostate, to suck him back down, and to have him coming with a hard jerk of his hips, clenching around Stede’s fingers as the waves roll over him and his mouth falls open on a silent shout.

Stede only hesitates long enough to wipe off his hand before he’s squeezing out more lube, slicking himself up. Ed’s eyes are so much bigger and so much darker under the bandanna, looking absolutely admiring as he nods a yes to Stede’s silent question.

Stede indulges himself a little. Hooks one of Ed’s ankles up over his shoulder before he presses inside, and it’s like losing himself every single time, this, as if Ed himself is made of the feeling that surrounds him, diamond bright arousal and satisfaction and comfort.

The angle lets him thrust deeper, draws a long ohhhhhh fuck from Ed, and he concentrates on everything he can see. The glistening sheen of sweat on Ed’s collarbones, where the tattooed hawk is taking flight. The flex of his beautiful arms where they’re tied up over his head, biceps so perfectly shaped.

Every part of Ed is beautiful, and somehow doing this here, a long way from that cabin, makes it feel like something new all over again. As if there might be rediscovery possible for everything they’ve tried, which in itself feels… important, while everything’s in flux.

But at the fundamental base of it all, they’re just here, still together, still joined where Stede is thrusting into Ed, their bodies tangled and their skin warm. No matter what, he believes it, he’s got Ed.

It doesn’t take long for all the feeling to build up to a point where it spills over, and he comes inside his boyfriend with long, shuddering strokes, while Ed lies there and takes it.

When he’s done, he pulls out and scrambles to untie Ed’s arms, brings them down and kisses his wrists, his forearms, before he moves to take off the bandanna as well. Ed’s grinning under it as the fabric falls away, and he lunges up and tackles Stede back into the bedsheets, kissing him quite quickly senseless.

Outside, there’s now a rising drift of laughter and chat from the other room, and Stede’s struck with a sudden bolt of panic that makes him pivot across to tap his phone.

“Oh… god, there’s only fifteen minutes to go.” He blinks at Ed in a sudden panic. “Should we have the laptop out? Did you get the Wifi password?”

Ed just falls back into the pillows laughing, rubbing his hands over his face. “Mate, the whole crew’s out there, everyone’s going to be watching together.” He squeezes Stede’s knee. “Don’t have to do it alone this time.”

The show or any of it, he knows that’s true. And all of a sudden they’re right here on the precipice of everything they’ve been building up to for so long, and he feels… ready, actually, his anxiety dissipating into the air.

He twists and climbs out of the bed, and makes a beeline directly for the overnight bag Ed had packed yesterday. “Best hurry, then.”

~

Ed’s never seen Stede get ready so fast in the entire time they’ve known each other. He hauls ass out of the bed and makes an instant choice that Ed’s pretty fucking pleased with, too, sliding on black jeans that hug his calves and his thighs, a black tee on top that’s also straining over his tits. Ed’s never taking those back. He’s going to make Stede wear them forever.

He’s rifling idly through the collection himself when Stede presses in behind him and says, “Maybe the robe’s enough.” He’s got the tie in his hands, the soft velvet that had Ed secured to the bedframe earlier, and he slides it around Ed’s waist now as he presses a kiss beneath Ed’s ear. “None of them will know there’s anything unusual about that tie, but I will.” Another kiss. “And you will.”

The tone’s possessive and lewd, and fuck, it goes directly through Ed like a shot of lava, even though he just came five minutes ago. He pulls on a pair of sweatpants for respectability and lets Stede tie the robe cord neatly around his waist, with a fucking bow. Another glance at the phone, and they’re down to minutes now.

They dash out together hand in hand, giggling, and walk into a room that’s full of people. All of them turn at once to look at them, and Lucius breaks into a huge grin that tells Ed everything he needs to know about how many people heard what they were up to, even though he tried for like, three seconds to behave himself.

Lucius doesn’t give them shit about it, though. Higher priorities today. “You’ve got approximately eight minutes to get yourself some breakfast and find a spot, gentleman, or at least four of us will be inclined to murder you.”

Zheng’s crew has a whole table set up along the back wall, big pot of fragrant noodle soup, lots of little bowls of add-ins, and Ed ladles himself out a good sized serving and groans at how good it smells. Stede sticks right beside him, and they both toss in sliced chicken and tofu and cilantro and chilli. He’d thought maybe Stede wouldn’t be so keen on soup for breakfast, because he has his routines that he likes, but hell, all the routines are out the window here, and he seems to be as into it as Ed.

They thread their way back through the living room where the crew are scattered everywhere, lounging on beanbags and tangled up together on couches, and find a free spot in the middle of a sectional that’s facing the fucking movie screen on the wall, open on the Tree Change page on Max.

Series Finale Monday 7:00am, it says just below the title, and that brings it right home. They’re here. They’re actually fucking here with only a few minutes to go.

Ed squeezes in next to Pete, who beams at him like that just made his whole day, and Stede drops in on his other side. They both go to town on their soup, and he can feel it warming him from the inside out in seconds.

“Hey, Ed, did you see the articles?” Pete asks.

Ed can’t remember the last time he actually got to take a proper look with all the chaos that’s been going on, and for the first time he has a little pang of pain at the thought of this whole experience being so different to what he’d expected. They’ve been missing out, while they’ve been doing shit like fighting for their actual lives. “I didn’t,” he tells Pete. “Anything interesting?”

Pete lets out a whistle, looks around him to make sure nobody else is listening. Leans closer. “Are you good with spoilers?”

Ed scoffs. “Mate, you know me, I’m all about the spoilers. I am the fucking spoilers.”

“Cool. Okay, so…” That glance around the room again, this time straying over Izzy, who’s tucked up in the far corner. “A couple of the articles strongly imply that things aren’t going to turn out well for everyone. And maybe that wouldn’t have felt like a thing, but then TV Guide said there’s a devastating loss, and…”

“Shit.” Ed can connect the dots, read between the lines. He glances at Iz himself, because fuck. He knows Izzy got himself attached to Keith because he’s felt a lot the same way himself, like he’s on the outside of things, even as he’s currently got his good leg hooked over Wee John’s where they’re pressed together on the couch chatting, and that’s an interesting one to ponder later.

Keith’s been through a lot of stuff, never more than this season, getting his fucking arm blown off much the way Izzy’s leg went, having to watch his unrequited love run off with a guy he’d never been able to stand. But he’s made his peace with the crew, and he’s even found some understanding with Rupert, and Ed knows how much that arc has meant to people. Fuck, he knows it, and staring at Izzy brings it home: maybe he’s never loved Keith as a character himself, but people he cares about do, and if what Pete’s implying happens—if after three years they actually kill off a beloved character after a whole season of meteoric growth—the Tree Change ground is going to be shaken forever.

Fuck, maybe Stede was right to worry a few days back, because—shit, Ed’s maybe spiralling a little harder than he meant to here—if they do go there, it might taint the joy they’ve shared all these years. It actually might.

He trusts them. He does.

Stede’s hand is warm on his thigh. “Everything all right?”

He blinks out of it, looks across. Schools his face to spoiler free mode. “Fuckin’ great, you?”

“This soup is insane!” Stede says, and sighs happily. “The broth is wild.”

“Good morning everyone!” Zheng yells from up the front, and the room goes silent instantly. “Did you all sleep well?” There’s a chorus of cheers, and she waves them all down. “Thank you all for being here. We’ll get down to business in a couple of hours, but first—“

“Tree Change!” yells half the room.

“Shut it!” Auntie snaps, waving a warning finger. “Listen.”

Zheng smiles at them all. “I know we’re all excited and worried, but let’s keep talking to a minimum, and we’ll get through it. Good luck.”

Just like that, the blinds on the big windows all start to descend at once, dropping the room into renewed darkness, and Ed’s heart is suddenly in his throat. One of Zheng’s crew wanders past and offers to take his empty bowl, and he passes it off to her. Once Stede hands his over too, Ed presses in against him and laces their fingers together, for the first time maybe feeling like he’s the one who needs Stede to get through this.

Zheng refreshes the screen, and there it is.

Episode 8. The last one ever.

Beyond the Canopy.

Fuck. Ed’s barely got a second to consider all the potential in that title before the episode’s up there on the screen, and the sound kicks in from all corners, and they’re immersed in it.

It starts in the park, the same one where Rupert and Tāne met in Episode 1 of the first season, and what a callback that is. Just like last time it’s night, and Tāne’s under the Elm of Wisdom. But there’s no Rupert, and Ed can feel the tension in the room. Last week it’d all been going so well until it wasn’t, and Tāne had disappeared. They’d all feared maybe he ran off with his ex, Lauren, but she’s not there, either. He’s alone.

That’s when he finds the letter, which anyone who’s watched this show knows is from Grayson Maxwell, their old boss and Tāne’s lifelong mentor, who turned on them in the first season and has been their nemesis since.

Meet me at the docks

Or she dies

“Oh fuck,” Stede says in the world’s least subtle stage whisper. “Oh, Maxwell’s got Lauren, oh, and if the letter’s there then Tāne knew he was meant to come here. He didn’t choose to leave.” He looks up at Ed, and the relief is written all over his face. “It’s going to be okay.”

Someone shushes him from the other side of the room, and Ed squeezes his hand, instantly missing the cabin and their own space for this, where Stede could run his mouth a hundred miles an hour, exactly as much as he needed to. But it’s fine. They’re here, they’ve got each other, and Ed can read him without a word.

Keith appears out of the darkness, warns Tāne that Rupert’s in danger. They tell each other to be safe, make some more peace with each other, and Ed’s stomach drops even further, because he’s seen this exact kind of thing play out before.

Fuck, they can’t. They can’t do this.

And then it’s really on. Keith finds Rupert, tells him what’s happening. Rupert and the crew go after Tāne, find their old crewmate Ana along the way, the one who disappeared into the jungle in the fourth episode. Ed has to take a moment to appreciate the way nothing in this show happens without a reason, because they’ve got their rocket contraption with them, the one they invented on that island, and it’s important now.

The minutes are rushing by so fast he can hardly keep up, head spinning as each new moment unfolds. The same tension’s threading through the room as everyone curls into each other. Tāne finds Maxwell, who’s got Lauren at gunpoint, and there’s a brief moment where his old mentor convinces him that Rupert’s dead. Tāne gives himself up to help Lauren escape, and Maxwell finally reveals his plan.

It’s not just nuclear waste that they’ve been spilling out of carelessness. He’s got an actual fucking nuclear device that he’s going to detonate sub-sea, create the greatest environmental disaster the world’s ever known, and he’s planning to pin it on Tāne.

“That dick,” Pete hisses next to Ed. “Someone needs to hand him his ass.”

But just when all’s seeming lost, there’s Rupert, fuck, he’s just gotten braver all these years. Just like he promised he would, he’s fighting his way back to the guy he loves, with the help of Keith and June, too, brand new this season and fierce as fuck. June kicks the shit out of a good dozen Maxwell henchmen, screams at Rupert to go when he finally spots Tāne being wrestled onto a boat.

They’re too late, and Rupert makes it to the end of the docks just as Tāne gets raced off into the open seas with a nuclear bomb aboard.

Don’t give up, Keith tells him, and nods to another boat. There’s still a chance.

And of course fucking Peter Gabriel starts playing as they leap onto that and chase after him, Rupert and Keith side by side, and Ed can feel it coming, vibrating over his skin, lurking sour in the pit of his stomach. Stede’s hand is tightening in his as they close in on the moored boat.

Tāne’s tied to the actual fucking bomb, standing up on the side.

I told you to back away, Maxwell yells, waving a gun, frankly fucking insane, Christ, Ed’s got to give Sam the biggest props for this performance. And you kept on coming!

I’ll never stop, Rupert yells, but he’s looking at Tāne. Never.

Tāne grins, despite the fucking peril, and shouts, to the canopy and beyond!

Someone in the room lets out an audible whimper, and it all happens so fucking fast from there that time kind of fractures and holds, Ed’s heart in his throat.

Maxwell lifts the gun and fires it. Keith shoves Rupert aside, takes the bullet to the gut, and fuck, everyone in the audience gasps at once.

Maxwell laughs maniacally. Time to make a choice, Stafford! You only get time to save one.

Tāne only gets to grit out a fuck you before Maxwell pushes him over the side with a massive splash, and he goes under.

Oluwande’s got both hands on his head, and Jim’s biting their fist. Frenchie’s curled into Roach, Izzy’s staring like he could set the fucking television on fire, and Stede heaves in a whimpered sob beside him.

Keith’s on the floor of the boat, panting for breath as the blood bubbles up, and Rupert stands there for a horrified second, torn.

Go, Keith manages to say. Go get our man.

Making Rupert fucking choose who lives or dies, that’s cruel as shit, and there are fault lines already splintering in Ed’s heart. And what the fuck else can Rupert do? He snatches up Ana’s rocket booster, tells Keith you’d better be here when I get back, and dives over. Leaves Keith to die alone in the bottom of a boat in the middle of the ocean, what the fuck is that.

Stede’s shoulders are starting to shake, and Ed pulls him in close, presses his nose to his hair. “It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs. “It’s going to be fine.”

He believes it, he’s not going to be shaken, he refuses.

Rupert’s swimming for his fucking life, down and down, until his lungs are straining with it. I don’t love the ocean, he’d told Tāne in season two. I never know what’s waiting for me down there.

Maybe good things one day, Tāne had told him, hair still wet from the swim he’d been taking. You never know.

And there Tāne is, just ahead. Fighting still, weakly, running out of air, and it tickles at something uncomfortable under Ed’s breastbone to see that, just the way it’d been for him only a couple of days ago. But just like Stede had come for him, Rupert’s there like some fucking mermaid apparition. Getting hold of Tāne, fighting his own lack of air as he manages to unstrap the bomb, tie it to the rocket pack instead.

Tāne’s out, eyes closed, and Rupert’s fading, too. He’s staring at Tāne’s face as they both go down together.

Roach is over there outright sobbing now, the whole room full of sniffles.

The last thing Rupert manages to do is attach the bomb to the rocket booster, and he sets it off. Nothing happens. With a frustrated sob he whacks it with his fist, just the way Ana has before, and then boom off it goes. Shoots a jet of air behind it as it rockets up through the water and out.

It cuts away from them for long enough to follow the trajectory up and into the atmosphere, up and up and up, high enough that it won’t impact anyone, anywhere, before it blows.

Down below, everything’s peaceful as their heroes drift beneath the sea. Rupert ducks in and kisses Tāne the second before his eyes drift shut.

And then, a beat of darkness…. and his eyes fly open as he takes a heaving breath through a regulator.

The crew’s there, Aisha and Richard swimming in with oxygen tanks, pulling Tāne away from Rupert and hauling them both up to the surface.

It’s pandemonium up there, five different boats where there were only two before. The FBI’s swarming over Maxwell’s boat, Lauren in the thick of it as they arrest her, too, and it’s clear that she gave herself up to save Tāne, just the way he was willing to do it for her. That’s a stitch in the wounds, just one.

On their boat, the crew are all around Keith, battling desperately to save him. Bandages passed from hand to hand, pressure on the wound, everyone’s bloody and crying. They make way for Tāne and Rupert as they’re shoved up over the side.

Tāne’s half drowned, but he still staggers over there and goes down on his knees, hands on Keith’s stomach, bright red pouring between his fingers as he starts to cry.

Keith says, I’m sorry, Tāne. For everything.

What are you apologising for? I’m the one who should be apologising.

Fuck off.

Don’t go. Please. You’re my only family.

Keith lets out a wet chuckle. Tāne, you’re surrounded by family. They love you.

They love you, Tāne tells him. Fight for them the way they’d fight for you, you asshole.

Keith chuckles, and blood flecks across his paper-pale face. You fight for both of us. Do it for me.

No, Tāne sobs. No, no, you’re not done here. You’re not done.

I am done. I’m ready.

Suddenly Keith’s partner Sam is there, shouldering in between them, sobbing as he gets down and pulls Keith into his arms. What the fuck have you done?

Keith reaches up and touches his face. Only loved you all a little too much.

You bloody fool, Sam yells. It’s not over. I won’t let it be over.

We don’t get to choose, love. It’s been good. It’s been great.

It will be. It still will, fuck, Keith, you can’t—

I love you, he says, and his face breaks into a peaceful smile. It’s been everything.

His eyes slip closed, and Sam lets out a howl, and Tāne folds into Rupert’s arms, both of them sobbing, everyone sobbing. The camera lifts up above them and keeps on zooming out, and out, and out, until they’re dots on the ocean, until the ocean itself is just part of the globe, all of it safe in their hands at last.

Stede snorts a quiet sob against his robe, fingers gripping into the fabric, and then a louder one, and a second later Pete’s sliding in against his other side, under his other arm, and Ed finds himself hanging onto both of them as they cry against him. Lucius has curled into a little ball at the other end of the couch, Buttons is wailing somewhere in the background, and this feels… bad. Feels fucking bad, acid in his throat.

There’s a slow diving zoom back out of space and down to the park, to the Elm of Wisdom. The whole crew’s gathered around it looking sombre, as Tāne lifts a bag and scatters ashes, watches them drift on the wind, settling around the base of the tree.

He died like he lived, getting in the way.

In the audience, Archie hoots out a laugh, but nobody else does.

Guess that’s that, then.

They all go shuffling off, leaving Rupert and Tāne alone where they first met. June and her offsider Arun are the last still there, and they wander up after everyone else is gone.

That offer of that new life is still on the table, she tells Tāne. New names, new location. We could work together. Keep kicking ass.

Their two heroes exchange a glance, and Rupert reaches out and takes Tāne’s hand. It’s very kind. And we’re going to keep kicking ass, we are, but we’re going to keep doing it in our names, on our own terms, after we have a little break.

June nods, accepting it. What are you going to do?

Tāne grins. Thought we might run a little bed and breakfast for a bit. Know a little island we both kinda like.

She laughs, shakes her head. Count me in, I could do with a vacation.

She walks away, and they look up to the tree together. Sorry, old girl, Rupert tells it. But we’ll be back.

And that’s it. It pans up into the branches of the tree, where there’s a tropical songbird perched, and the credits roll, and Ed feels like he’s maybe melting into the couch. There’s total silence from everyone, bar Stede still sniffling against him on one side and Pete on the other.

“Fuck,” Jim says succinctly, then thumps the couch and shouts, “Fuck!”

People murmur their agreement. And shit, watching this season with Stede has been one thing, both of them attuned and connected and intertwined in their emotions, but watching it with a room full of other people is something else. There’s an intensity of feeling here that’s instantly confusing, because okay.

Okay. Ed kinda loved the shit out of that overall, but he needs to watch it again, as soon as possible, because there’s a league of stuff he hasn’t made sense of yet.

He hates the fuck out of what they did with the end, though, and he’s not even a Keith person. He risks a glance over at Izzy, who hasn’t moved, just staring stone cold at the screen with his jaw set, and he knows pretty instantly that this is going to fracture this fandom in irreparable ways.

But then.

But then, the credits roll to an end, and fuck, somehow he’d forgotten the end credits scenes that have followed every single episode this season, no exceptions.

It opens back up on an island bar, smooth jazz music playing. The camera circles around stools, feet, pans across the open door to show the glowing turquoise beach outside. Circles back around to the bar, and pans up to… Sam, behind the bar, wearing a brightly patterned Hawaiian shirt and shaking a cocktail shaker. Told you you’d come around to grenadine, he says smugly, and it cuts to his customer. It’s Zola, still giving him as much side-eye as ever.

She shrugs and pivots in her seat, looking across to the little stage. In honour of Keith, you know? Always his favourite. May his memory be a blessing and all that.

Sam snorts. The bar’s full of crew, actually. They’re lounging at the tables with cocktails; Rupert and Tāne are in the corner, tangled up and kissing, blissfully unaware of anything that’s happening around them.

Zola says, Main act’s a bit late today.

Give the man a break, it’s tough being dead.

Ed feels everyone tense at the same moment. Lucius jerks bolt upright. “What?”

Stede shoves away from him, too, grip firm on his thigh. “Ed—“

And then there it is, the click of heels on the boards, a slow pan from the stage up a sparkling suit, and now Ed’s crying, Jesus Christ, because it’s Keith. It’s Keith, very alive, full face of makeup, gorgeous flowers pinned to his lapel, standing behind an old-school microphone.

He smiles out at all his friends, closes his eyes, and starts to sing.

And that is it- the episode times out and returns them to the title screen, and the silence persists for a few seconds more, and then everyone starts to shriek at once, and in no time it’s turned into an insane fucking melee of hugs and dancing and cheering. Stede gets him by the lapels of the robe and pulls him in to kiss him.

Oh god, he feels like he just missed near death all over again.

But they lived. They all lived.

It’s fucking perfection.

It almost wasn’t, and the near miss is swirling in Ed’s head as he tries to make sense of what almost happened there. Sure, maybe it would have made narrative sense for Keith to die, because his arc was kinda done.

Why the fuck would they, when this amount of joy was right there for the taking?

He knows, he knows that it would have been different between season two and season three. This was the end end, and it had to wrap things up definitively. They really nailed it, but he feels the ghost of an unhappy ending right there, lingering on the margins of his relief, and he’s very fucking glad they veered away at the last second.

They get to hold that joy now, for a long, long time to come. It’s over, and they won, and that’s all he needs.

Now they just have to get their own happy ending.

~

There’s an enormous come-down from all the excitement of the finale, Stede finds. As if they’d been floating higher and higher into the atmosphere as the tension rose, but the gas has been turned off now, and the emotional hot air balloon is rapidly descending.

He feels worn out, as if every bit of stress from the last month has hit him all at once. And it’s not helped, he has to admit, by the way things go for the rest of the day.

There’s plenty of planning to do for the next stage of the real-life plan, and it’s a busy day, for everyone else. Zheng sends the crew out on all kinds of errands, and meanwhile Ed and Stede are just stuck right where they are, and it’s… frustrating. Stede’s pacing beside the windows for a lot of it, thinking and thinking until he’s thought so much that his brain hurts, loop after loop of pondering the fictional finale, and their own one. Ed keeps patiently pulling him back to here and now, laptop on his knee as he reads article after article about the finale, pings around their Discord, joins in the Twitter chaos and chuckles constantly at one thing or another.

Every now and again he looks up and asks a question, and the answer is always a reluctant no.

“You want to read? Loads of fics already going up.”

“You want to write? Got some new ideas for Chapter 4.”

“You want to talk about it? Just read a fucking incredible meta about the sea-sky-earth symbolism—“

Eventually he snaps the laptop closed, stands up and says, “Come with me.” He draws Stede into the bedroom, pulls down the blind, and then kisses him solidly, determinedly down into the bed. “Think you need a nap, mate.”

Stede makes a desperate sound into his mouth, pressed under the grounding weight of Ed’s entire body. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Ed grins, because he’s hard against Stede, too. “Could be.”

They do end up having a nap, rather boringly. Ed curls up around him and kisses him and yes, strokes his cock lazily for a bit, but they both drift off halfway through, utterly exhausted. He wakes with Ed’s hand still down his jeans and a strip of dim sunset light glowing at the edges of the blind.

So they’ve had their finale. All the consequences have landed. Everyone was in peril there for a bit, all of them nearly paid the price, but they made it through as a crew. Why does it feel so much like he was waiting for that to know how their own story would turn out?

It’s fiction, is the thing. It’s not real life. Nobody’s going to get shot.

And yet. He can’t get that image of Hornigold’s face out of his head. A man he’s never met in his life, who’s got all that history with Ed, who’s coming after Stede, too, and everything that matters to him. And Stede will not accept that. He absolutely will not.

The only thing for it is to match insanity like for like as they execute their own part of the plan.

The villains are out there looking for them, so they’re going to take themselves to the very last place they’d expect: the heart of the lair.

~

Jackie’s waiting for them when they scrape themselves back out of bed and stagger, hand in hand, out into the lounge. Jim’s sitting beside her twirling a knife between their fingers, and Zheng’s on the other side of the table with her pipe. Thin smoke drifts up from Jackie’s cigar, and she chuckles as she takes in the pair of them, dishevelled.

Ed’s hair is tangled, he’s got at least one visible hickey on his neck, and Stede can’t bring himself to care. He tugs Ed over and they slide into adjacent seats.

“Got some answers for you,” Jackie says, and slides a folder across the table. “There’s some shit going down.”

“Thought so,” Ed says. “Enough evidence to take them down?”

She sighs. “We’re missing a couple pieces of the puzzle. We can tie together Shuttlecock and Hopscotch. We just need the last connection to Carmody.”

“So you can get that?” Stede asks, hopeful. Perhaps this is it. Perhaps they’re done with danger already.

“I don’t have access to the system,” Jackie says. “That needs one of you two.”

Ed snorts. “Feel like our access might have been revoked at this point.”

Isn’t this how it always goes in Tree Change, too? All seems lost for a moment, and then they remember something that never felt like it was going to be relevant, but is in fact the key. And Stede’s been working with this show for long enough that it hits him immediately, and he lets out a startled laugh that makes Ed whip to look at him. “I think I might know a way.”

Jackie taps out her ash. “I tried logging in remote. They’ve suspended all the connections. It’ll have to be in the office.”

“Good,” Stede says softly. Because he still has the glorious vision of his father’s office being drenched all around him, and there is in fact quite a raging desire in his heart to stick it to the rest of them just as firmly, even if it’s metaphorical this time.

Burn it all down.

They’re halfway there.

~

It’s been an incredibly long day by the time midnight rolls around. The crew were all back for dinner, and it was a chaotic and delightful meal as platters of food were passed up and down a long table, everyone riding high on the adrenaline from the finale. So sure, Stede’s awareness of his own mortality is creeping up on him in a terrifying way, but actually, this is also perhaps the happiest he’s ever been in his life.

He’s here, with Ed, Ed’s arm looped around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheek. They’re laughing with their friends, they’re loved and supported, and okay, yes, this is always the moment in Tree Change before everything goes horribly wrong. It has to be perfect so that you know exactly how much there is to lose, and god, Stede’s never had so much to lose.

He’s not going to think about that.

They’re sitting in the car around the corner from the office, and Stede’s fidgeting so much that Ed silently slides a hand over onto his knee. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask him to stop, just… instantly, intuitively grounds him with his touch, peering out into the darkness.

The office is quiet. All the lights are out, bar the one in the Badmintons’ office, and that’s the one they’re watching. Chauncey’s distinctive shadow has passed back and forth across it many times now.

“Who would have picked that dickfuck as a workaholic?” Ed mutters.

“I suppose he doesn’t have anything else that matters to him,” Stede says, and it sounds a touch sad, but he’s got no sympathy for Chauncey. The man’s been making his life difficult for decades now, and the only positive was how rarely he was in the office compared to his twin, because Nigel is at least more of a buffoon. That’s more manageable than Chauncey’s cold, ugly meanness. But Nigel is, of course, recovering from his eye injury, and from what they’ve heard, it’s Chauncey they should be worried about.

“What if he’s there all night?” Stede asks.

“Guess we’ll just sleep in the car,” Ed says, chuckling. “Stakeouts, man.”

“Not as fun as they look on TV,” he replies, because Tāne said that the first time he and Rupert were stuck in a car like this, all the energy thrumming through him while Rupert was deeply focussed on the target.

“Maybe we should kiss about it,” Ed adds, and when Stede looks across at him, he’s grinning.

He would like to kiss Ed right now, very very much. “I feel that might sort of… defy the point of a stakeout.”

“Yeah, but counterpoint: it’d be hot.”

It’s a convincing argument. But just before Ed can draw him across the middle and make him forget what he’s doing here, the light suddenly blinks out in the office, and they both sit straight again. A minute later, the front door swings open and Chauncey exits, the street lights gleaming off the top of his bald dome as he walks across the parking lot to his ostentatious Mercedes, and the lights flash as he unlocks it.

He slides in, starts it up, and after a minute’s pause, the headlights throw out a bright beam and the car slides out of the parking lot and onto the road, gliding past them as Stede shrinks down into his seat, and Ed does nothing but put up a defiant middle finger. “Fuck that guy.”

They wait until it’s disappeared down the deserted city street, and then they nod to one another and slide out of the car, heading for the office.

Stede’s anxiety mounts as they make their way to the front door. He spares a glance for the security camera, but the light is blank, just as Zheng promised it would be. Her people have interrupted the circuit and they’ll splice in a loop of old footage, or something complicated that Stede would just nod along to in Tree Change, he’s not really sure.

They’ve also managed to dupe a keycard that’s supposed to work perfectly, so when Ed presses it against the sensor and the light goes red, Stede’s heart freezes for a moment. But Ed slides it over a second time, and this time it goes green, and the door unlocks with a click. Ed glances back over his shoulder and grins. Winks, does a little robot hands move that ends with a very suggestive hip thrust. “I’m in.”

Stede’s still shaking his head fondly as they make their way into the darkened office, treading softly. Do you really need to say it aloud? Rupert’s always asking. And Tāne’s always saying, you like it.

They both know he does, and Stede does, when Tāne does it and when Ed does it. Because god, they really are living this life now, aren’t they? Very much acting out a Tree Change moment as they creep through the open plan centre of the office, desks on either side of a central divide, and head for the Badmintons’ office.

It’s utterly silent in there, other than their own footsteps. Dim light glowing from someone’s left-on monitor, desks in various states of organisation, Jackie’s terrible pot plant lurking on her desk, and as they pass it Stede holds back the urge to insult it again.

Ed click on a tiny torch that throws a blindingly bright beam onto the floor, and Stede winces. They know from their own time spent sitting outside tonight that any light is very visible through that window, and a passerby would instantly clock that a burglary was underway.

But when they get to the Badmintons’ door and Ed eases it open with a leather gloved hand, he slips inside so smoothly that Stede’s left standing and staring after him, an impressed shiver running down his spine. God, Ed moves like he was made for this, so confident as he crosses quickly to the window and snaps those blinds shut. His face is serious, jaw set, and he goes across to Chauncey’s desk like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Stede might be swooning a little. He leans against the doorframe, arms folded, and watches as Ed drops to his knees and feels around for the drawer.

“Jeffrey said that that Chauncey always leans to his left a moment before the drawer unlatches,” he says.

Ed’s head snaps up, and his lips twitch into a smile in the torchlight. “Amazing. Knew old mate Jeff would come in handy.”

“He wanted to help.” They’d debated back and forth about it at Zheng’s place, whether it was a wise idea to ask. But Stede remembers their school days all too well, knows that Jeffrey suffered exactly the same way at exactly the same hands. They hadn’t managed to support one another well back then, too busy keeping their own heads down, but now is a different story. There’s an understanding there, and he’d been right. The lawyer had been almost giddy to be asked, and had instantly delivered the information that Chauncey keeps a secret drawer in his desk.

Jeffrey didn’t know the contents, but he knew they were Carmody-linked, given that it was always in relation to the company that he saw Chauncey using it. Ordinary memos and so on, but there had to be more for it to be hidden like that.

Ed lets out a grunt of frustration, and it’s about time Stede stops ogling him and starts being useful. He crosses over there, ducks down beside Ed, takes the torch from him and shines it upwards so that he can see more easily. There’s no obvious catch, nothing that seems like it would activate a hidden mechanism.

“He needs a little bust or something classy as a secret catch release,” Stede says, and sniffs. “But Chauncey wouldn’t know classy if it slapped him in the face.”

Ed snorts. Stands again, hands still working away under the desk. “There’s got to be something—some way to—maybe if I—“

And just like that, as he’s pressing the drawer upward, there’s a click.

“Ha!” Stede says, triumphant. “Take that.”

The drawer pulls out separately from the main one, and Ed slides it out carefully as they both stand back. At first look it’s nothing much more than ordinary papers. A contract of land donation, a contract for environmental assessment—which, Stede notes, lists the hourly rate for their work as considerably higher than they actually get paid, well above a reasonable markup.

“Rich assholes stealing from rich assholes,” Ed says, rolling his eyes. He flips the paper he’s holding up, then flips it down again. “There are two.”

“Two contracts?”

He nods. “I thought it was a copy at first, but look.” He taps the top, where the invoice number is indeed different. And there are subtle additional lines down the contract, too.

Mitigation of environmental threats

Comprehensive surveillance

Maintenance of status quo

“Christ,” Stede says. “Let’s take it with us. Add it to the collection.”

He frowns as he sweeps the torch across the base of the drawer, because there’s not much else in there. Only a couple of Carmody brochures, the sort of corporate community building stuff they’d seen at the markets, sun-hazed photographs of children blowing dandelion seeds—of course it has to be an invasive weed—and fish leaping from rivers and so on.

Ed’s still flicking through the stack of papers, and Stede reaches into the recesses of the drawer, feels around to make sure they’re not missing anything.

His fingers make contact with something small and hard and rounded, and he pulls it out just as Ed’s flicking stops. They both gasp at the same time.

“Ed—”

“Stede—“ He snaps his mouth shut. “No, tell me. What’ve you got?”

He holds the little glass vial up, and it gleams in the torchlight, iridescent blue. “I’d bet you nearly anything that’s full of benzenes.”

Ed holds up the papers. “I’d pay.”

The papers look like an ordinary chemical analysis at first, and of course it does reveal high levels of the relevant chemicals, samples taken across a range of familiar environments. Meadow. Stream. Wetland. Forest. Shore.

The date is three months ago. The second page, dated just a few days before they went out to the cabin, reveals the almost undetectable levels they’d found themselves, the chemicals working their way out of the environment, the damage already done. They knew. They waited for a specific moment, when Ed and Stede would clear the place, probably prove themselves incompetent in the process, if they were unable to track down the source of the contamination. Two birds with one stone, getting away with it and getting rid of them.

“Ed,” Stede breathes, finally taking in the full detail of what he’s looking at.

“Yeah,” Ed says. “I know.”

It’s a Shuttlecock letterhead. The client is listed as Ricky Banes, Chief Operating Officer of Carmody Ltd. But the scientist who took the samples is—

“Ned Low,” Stede says, flatly. “Shit, this is it, isn’t it? The document that ties them all together, Badmintons, my father, Carmody, that entire… league of villains.”

Ed tucks the papers back inside the folder. “We’ve got ‘em.”

“Let’s go.” He turns for the door, but Ed grabs his arm, pulls him back. And suddenly they’re face to face, very close together. Ed’s all in black, they both are, and the torch is sending up a glow that’s not dissimilar to the way his phone lit them that first day in the supply closet. Ed’s eyes drop to his lips, and Stede inhales, and then they’re kissing, suddenly, before he even registered that Ed had moved.

Documents crushed between them, benzenes clamped in his hand, and after a second Stede has to break away. “Edward.”

“Yeah?” His hands are on Stede’s hips, tugging him close. “You’re so fucking hot like this, do you have any idea?”

“You are, my god, I—“ He looks around them, suddenly understanding. “Ed. Ed, were you… were you thinking about…”

“Desk sex,” he says, enunciating each word crisply. “’S already tomorrow, technically.”

Because it’s after midnight, yes. Quite suddenly, the heat is rushing through Stede faster than he can control it, because… hell. He makes a passing attempt at breathing normally. “You were thinking about fucking me over Chauncey’s desk.”

He tilts his head, grins. “I was. I was! Thought it’d serve the fucker right.”

Stede yanks him in and kisses him soundly, until he’s almost breathless, because this is… well. He’s got a better idea. He takes Ed’s hand and says, “Come with me.”

Ed follows wordlessly as he leads them back out into the main part of the office, the torch light bouncing off wall and ceiling, turning the whole place into a dizzy sort of funhouse as Stede heads determinedly for the most familiar part of it. Ed seems to understand what he’s doing just as they arrive beside Stede’s desk, letting out a bark of a laugh.

Stede doesn’t hesitate, because they’re on a time limit here. He just shoves his chair aside, starts unbuckling his belt, going for the button of his jeans, and—

Ed’s hand stays his frantic motion, looming over him where he’s leaning back against the desk. His gaze is soft and fond. “You want me to fuck you over your desk.”

It’s not a question. Stede nods, because… “That day when you showed me the prompts.”

“Yeah?”

“I saw this one, and I… god, Ed, I dreamed about this. I sat here thinking about it all day, every day.”

“You did, huh?” Ed presses in against him, and now his nimble fingers have taken over from Stede’s, sliding the button through, pulling down the zip slowly, slowly, the sound loud in this room. “Can’t fucking tell you how often I thought about it.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh as Ed tilts him backwards, and he shoves his keyboard aside, makes an absolute wasteland of all his neatly organised Post-Its and paperclips as Ed looms over him, undoing his own jeans.

“Minimum two days a week I had to rub one out in the bathroom because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Stede laughs, but there’s a twingeing ache in his chest, too. “I did the same, you know? We were probably in the same stall at different times, wishing the other would just see them.”

“I saw you.”

“I saw you, I just—“

Ed shuts him up by yanking his jeans down over his hips and dropping to his knees to peel them off, along with his shoes. And there he is in the very centre of the Shuttlecock office, spread back over his desk with his legs wide, as Ed digs in his pocket and comes up with lube.

Stede lets out a hushed laugh. “You were planning for this.”

“We’re never coming back here,” Ed says seriously. “This is the only right way to say goodbye to it. Defile the shit out of it, put our stamp on it forever.”

Stede’s bare-assed and achingly hard, and Ed’s standing over him with his very erect cock in hand, and it all feels incredibly serious and at the same time, as if he might start laughing and never manage to stop. “Please,” he manages to say, keeping a straight face for long enough to tell Ed his real desires. “I need your fingers, Ed.”

Ed lets out a cracked moan, and doesn’t make him wait any longer. Just drops the papers on the far side of the desk first. Then he squeezes the lube over his fingers, hikes Stede’s legs up around his waist, and sinks two fingers inside him easily, because he’s that loose and that ready all the time now. Up above him on the divider he’s got all his Tree Change pins and artworks, the safe for the office ones, anyway, an absolute rainbow of love for the show, for the environment, for himself, a reminder to be kind to Stede as he came out of a lifetime of closing himself in.

Ed’s fingers press deeper, stretching him, and he lets out a moan that echoes through the room, making Ed pause, but only for a second. “It’s just us,” he says. “Let it out.”

“I love you,” he gasps, even though he knows that’s not what Ed meant, but… it’s what he needs to say, as Ed pulls his fingers out and lines himself up. “I’m so glad I met you.”

Ed rubs a soft thumb over his hip. “Me too, mate. You ready?”

“I’ve been ready since the day I walked in that door.”

Ed pulls him to the edge of the desk, presses his cock against Stede’s ass, and then slips inside, drawing a low moan from both of them at the perfect drag of his body inside Stede’s. His hands cradling Stede’s hips, his breath huffing out in concentration, his bun coming loose, god, he’s beautiful like this as he draws back and thrusts, shunting Stede up the desk, prompting him to shove a box of tissues to the other side so that he doesn’t repeatedly whack his head on it.

For the last three years he sat right here, looking at these same walls, the same ceiling, listening to the office chatter that’s silent now, half the crew in hiding with Zheng. He watched Ed walk past him on repeat, desperate for a breath of his cologne or a moment of eye contact, a smile, if he was lucky. And then he was, god, he got to befriend Ed, and all those longing moments were replaced with shoulder bumps and back pats and grins and winks and secret shared words that only they understood.

And now Ed’s fucking him thoroughly on that same desk, just the way he imagined, or almost. “Hold on,” he gasps out. “Wait, just—“

Ed eases back, and Stede makes a thorough hash of sliding off the desk, knocking his stapler and half a dozen papers to the ground as he turns over. Face down on the blotter, turned to the side, where there’s a subtle picture of Rupert and Tāne pinned up smiling at one another. It’s from the morning after their first time, and it became a talisman for Stede, a promise to himself that he would have this. More times than he can count he’d slipped on his headphones and let Johnny’s voice fill his ears as he imagined this.

Ed coming up behind him, just the way he is now. All the noise of the office dropping away at the whispered words, Ed’s breath hushed and warm against his ear. Sometimes I think I could find every bit of wisdom I need in your ass. Easing him up out of his chair, pressing him down onto the wood, shoving down his trousers—too desperate to wait—and fucking into him, because Stede was always ready, in his imagination. He’d fingered himself open on whatever given morning, fucked himself thoroughly with a toy while moaning Ed, oh, Ed, and Ed would just admire him for a moment before plunging right in.

He does that now, pressing home again, and his first thrust makes Stede’s cheek slide over the blotter.

Ed pauses. “All right?”

“Harder,” Stede manages to get out. “Please.”

Ed chuckles again, and his fingers grip a little tighter around Stede’s hips. “Gonna make you mine.”

“I’m yours,” he gasps out. “Wholly yours, please, Ed, I need you.”

He slides all the way home, deep, making Stede arch back off the desk on a shout. “That’s it,” Ed says, gravelly and low. “Do you feel me?”

“Only you,” Stede sobs out. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Here in this place where he worked out who he was, and who he wanted, and what he wanted them to be, Ed proceeds to absolutely rail him just the way he dreamed, cock buried deep over and over, until Stede is nothing more than kindling, a bonfire sparking, about to catch fire, and that, of course, is when he smells the actual smoke.

“I’ve got you,” Ed says, gasping out the day’s phrase. “Let go.”

Stede does not, in fact, do that. He puts his head up, makes eye contact with a picture of a raised-brow Rupert as Ed jogs him forward again, grunting with the force of his thrust, sparking over Stede’s prostate and making him gasp, and—no, the smell hasn’t gone away.

“Ed,” he gasps out. “Ed.”

Ed slows his thrusts for a moment. Doesn’t stop, just slips inch by inch back inside him as he asks softly, “Yeah?”

“Smoke,” Stede gets out, a second before the smoke detector on the roof starts to squeal.

Ed freezes, hands on his hips. “Shit.” He’s in a position to look around the office, unlike Stede, who’s plastered to the desk. “Oh, shit, it’s coming from the Badmintons’ room.”

“Did you—“

“No,” Ed says. “Fuckers. We caught them right in time, they must have set a fuse or something.”

He hasn’t pulled out, but he starts to, and Stede reaches back and grips his hip. “I was close.”

Ed lets out a startled laugh. “Mate, the house is on fire. Gotta get out.”

Stede manages to wriggle impatiently, thrusting back against him, before the smell intensifies and the fire alarm bursts out with a long whoop. He presses his forehead to the desk, properly laughing now, because he’s splayed over his workstation with Ed deep inside him, and he’s on the edge of coming, and now the building is on fire. “Okay. All right.”

It’s not worth their lives. None of this is. Ed eases out of him and zips himself up, takes a second to grab Stede’s jeans and slip them over his feet, hefts them up his legs fast, while Stede leans over the desk and pulls off as many of his Tree Change pictures and pins as he can manage. Grabs the vial and the paperwork, of course, and then Ed’s hauling him toward the door as the smoke begins to roll across the ceiling, and the distant wail of fire engine sirens cuts through all the noise. Ed pauses and says, “Hold on, one second.”

He dashes back into the office as Stede calls after him, heart momentarily in his throat, and then Ed’s back clutching Jackie’s godawful pot plant under his arm, and they run to the door together, both coughing.

Which… doesn’t open, because there’s a garden bench jammed up against the outside.

Stede’s blood runs instantly cold, because that was put there, after they came in here. And if this was a casual exercise in arson, there wouldn’t have been any need for it. The only purpose of a move like that is to trap people inside the building, and he and Ed are the only people in the building, and the sick feeling in his stomach builds until he can’t stand it. Ed’s casting around for something to break the door, cursing under his breath, but Stede notices the fire extinguisher first—Christ, the irony—bolted beside the door.

Some kind of superhuman strength surges through him as he tears it from its mounts, takes a couple of steps back, and hurls it through the glass.

The door shatters, sucking an enormous quantity of choking smoke out with it, and they hurry out into the night, making it to the car up the street just as the fire engines come screaming around the corner.

He’s frantic as they dive into the back seat together, flames now licking high enough over the building that they emit a soft glow, and he climbs onto Ed’s lap and kisses him desperately. Ed smells like smoke, or Stede does, or both of them do, but either way, it surrounds them.

“Oh god,” he says. “Oh, shit, I thought that was it for us.”

“We’re not done,” Ed says fiercely, holding his chin. “Nobody’s going to fucking take this from us.”

The sheer terror of running from that has him soft again, but the look in Ed’s eyes sends the blood rushing back to his cock. And Ed seems to see it in the same moment, because he shifts only a little, and then he’s pulling Stede’s cock out of his jeans again, along with his own.

Stroking them both together, fingers fisted in the back of Stede’s hair, kissing him like he’s all the oxygen Ed will ever need in the world.

They come seconds apart, Stede gasping against Ed’s shoulder, and just as they finish, there’s a loud thump from across the street, and they look up to see the roof of the office caving in, all the firefighters standing back.

“Shit,” Stede murmurs, and Ed nods against him.

“Think that counts as our resignation.”

~

If Ed had any doubts that they were being set up, those are gone by the next day, when the morning news reports breathlessly on the fire that destroyed the Shuttlecock offices, and flashes up CCTV footage of the two of them running from the building. Their pictures are splashed up next, and their names, talked about as suspected arsonists.

“They could have picked a nicer photograph,” Stede says indignantly. “That’s from the Christmas party two years ago, and I objected to Nigel’s Christmas theme—“

“Jingle Bells and Batman Smells?” Ed chuckles, because he remembers having gone all-out on that one. “Fucking stupid but it was kinda fun.”

“I wore a plain t-shirt in protest,” Stede says adorably. “And now they’re using it on the news, as if I have no sense of passion!”

In the scheme of things, Ed’s very fucking there for the fact that Stede’s so indignant about being un-stylish.

The day after that is painful, too. They’re back to pacing around the apartment, just… worse now, because they’re stuck. Fucking stuck, and Ed can’t do anything about it, and he hates it. It’s probably about fucking time they called in law enforcement, cleared their own names while they hand over all the Badminton evidence, but they’ve all seen Hornigold involved, and he’s the next nearest thing to a cop now, and all cops are bastards. He knows that all too well.

It’s getting worse out there. Jackie’s Swedish Dungeon’s been raided out of the blue, and various other crew members’ places have had visits from Hornigold and his gang. Thankfully all of them are here, but he’s working his way through them, and it’s unsettling. Ed knows way too much about the way the man works.

Zheng says she’s working on it, getting an understanding of how the land lies, who she can trust, and Ed believes her. If nothing else, she can put that evidence in for them and tell the truth.

For now, he and Stede skulk in the lounge and skulk on the rooftop and skulk in the kitchen, eating their way through the neatly organised food supplies Zheng’s provided. Stede feeds him bites of mango and Ed licks the juice off his fingers, and fuck it. They’re stuck here, they may as well use that time well.

They toss their story back and forth, write a few chunks of the ending, now that they know the canon they’re mirroring, and it’s good. Very good to parse it like that, to try to spin it into an alternate universe setting, where all the significance of it comes clearer.

Stede still can’t stop fidgeting anxiously, and no surprise there. It’s the most anxious Ed’s ever been in his life, and by the late afternoon, he decides he needs to act.

Just like they did a couple of days ago, he tows Stede into the bedroom and locks the door behind them. Shoves him down onto the bed while Ed rifles through his suitcase, and yeah, okay, question his priorities, but when they were fleeing his place he’d thrown a couple of toys in the bag, and he eases out his favourite dildo now.

Stede’s leaning back on his elbows, pink-cheeked as he stares at it. “That’s a lovely one, isn’t it?”

“It is, mate.” It’s all swirling pink and blue and silver, but realistically shaped, good size. He tosses it on the bed between them and strips off his shirt, then his trousers, ties up his hair. “Here’s the deal: I’m going to fuck myself with that, and you’re going to watch.”

“That’s one of the prompts,” Stede says. “And the other?”

The other today is double penetration. There are maybe half a dozen guys out there Ed could ask, and at least some of them might say yes. He’s never missed the way Lucius eyes him up and down. He thinks he could convince Frenchie, maybe Roach. And there’s something appealing about that thought, sandwiched between Stede and another body, stuffed so full of cock that he can hardly breathe.

But there are other ways to get there, too, because he doesn’t want to share. He goes down on his knees, crawls across the bed. “I fuck myself with that, and then you fuck me, too. Same time.”

“Without taking it out,” Stede says, sounding awed. “Ed, can you… can you take that much?”

He grins, smug about it. “I can do anything.”

He’s second guessing his confidence ten minutes later. Stede’s taken an extra long time opening him up, driving him batshit fucking crazy with it, actually, the way he cooed and murmured and stroked so slowly with four fingers up Ed’s ass, listening to Ed beg.

The dildo’s in there. He’s been fucking himself on it for a couple of solid minutes now, the base planted on the bed, riding it with his eyes closed and his fingers twisting around a nipple. Stede’s sitting in an armchair, stroking his own cock slowly. Mouth open, eyes gleaming as he unapologetically rakes his eyes all over Ed.

“Are you ready for more?”

Like a… a sugar daddy Ed’s debauching himself for, finely dressed and fucking his own fist over the sight of Ed burying the toy deep inside him. Like a client or a pimp or something, and Ed nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I could take more.”

Stede eases himself up out of the chair and wanders over. Touches his cheek. “God, you’re beautiful.” And then he nods to the bed. “Turn around. Let him fuck you like that.”

Desire spasms all through him as he understands what Stede’s getting at. Another role-play, and this time the cock inside him belongs to someone imagined, anonymous, nameless. Could be anyone, and he does as he’s told, pivots so this pretend person and his very real dick are under him, face to face, thrusting up into his ass. He hears Stede’s belt clink, the rustle of fabric, and then Stede’s hands are on his hips.

“You’re so stretched around him, my god. Do you really think you can take me, too?”

Ed chokes out a laugh. “Yeah, I can take you. Just have to try me out and see.”

Stede’s finger slips inside him a moment later, pressing alongside the toy, stretching him even further, and he moans, uncontrolled. Christ, it’s been a few years since the last time he took two cocks at once, and he’s missed the challenge.

“Ed,” Stede whispers in his own voice, sounding doubtful. “Are you… are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he says. “Go slow, okay? Lots of lube. I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.”

Stede hums, but then he’s right there, the head of his cock solid against Ed’s rim. He pushes, and he pushes, and the pressure is high, until finally—“Fuck.”

He pops inside, and yeah, there’s a little burn there, but Ed hasn’t been so full in a long time, and it lights up every single nerve at once.

He’s squirming desperately, almost crying with how good it feels. “Keep going.”

Stede does. He’s trying all kinds of shit, tilting his hips a little as he thrusts, fucking down into Ed and then easing him flat onto the bed, giving him half a second of grace before he’s flat on top of him, pounding in and making Ed shout.

“I’m so close,” he moans, still so fucking full, almost drifting away with the euphoria of being so well used. He’s happy, that’s the thing. Happier than he’s ever been in his life, and the slow, steady thrust of Stede’s cock against the one buried inside him is perfect.

Stede’s breathing is getting harsher, his thrusts erratic. “I’m almost there myself, Ed, I’m—is he going to come first, or am I?”

His nameless imaginary friend, fuck. “Think he’s coming first,” he gets out. “Then you can be my last, flush out his come with yours, til I’m dripping—“

It shouldn’t be a surprise that Stede groans and goes stiff, pulsing inside him. A moment later he’s pulling out the dildo, but not his cock. Reaching around, taking hold of Ed’s cock and stroking it fast. “That’s it,” he says. “It’s only me inside you now. Only ever will be.”

And that’s all Ed wants in the world, and he near-on turns himself inside out with the force of his climax.

He drifts for a good while as Stede gets a cloth to clean them both up, and settles down behind him, spooning in close.

Fuck knows why Ed ends up so emotional after he’s been fucked to within an inch of his life, but here he is, welling up with tears again as he kisses Stede’s knuckles. “You’re all I want in the whole fucking world, you know that? Forever.”

Stede presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “I think that can be arranged. I love you, Ed.”

“Love you, too.”

~

It’s late when Stede wakes, and it’s confusing. Still very much dark, still very much a sense that it’s night. He doesn’t know what woke him, but whatever it was didn’t wake Ed, who’s snoring lightly on the other side of the bed.

He eases himself up and checks his phone; yes, 2am, a very uncivilised hour to be up and about. He slips it into the pocket of his pyjamas and sighs, because now that he’s awake, it’ll be a trial to get back to sleep. The best thing to do is go out and make himself a nice chamomile tea.

He eases out into the main room, where the crew is once again heaped in piles. He shakes his head fondly as he creeps past them all to the kitchen, because they really do feel like a family now, and it’s lovely. This has brought them all together, and he’s almost grateful.

The kitchen has low lights gleaming under the wall cabinets, and it’s not difficult to find his way around, to extract himself a mug from the cupboard and fill it with water from Zheng’s space-age press-button instant boiling water tap. He drops the teabag into it, and he’s idly pondering whether they could all retire to a tropical island to open their own bar and bed and breakfast when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

He pulls it out, confused about who on earth could be texting him in the middle of the night when almost everyone he knows is here, and the moment he opens it, a chill floods through him.

The text is simple, from an unknown number. Nice place this time of year.

The attached photograph shows a tourist sign for a very familiar place, the town’s name in arcing vintage letters, illustrated palm trees waving over a painted ocean.

It’s where Mary is, with Doug, with the kids. And nobody’s supposed to know.

He types back with trembling hands. Who is this?

Three dots bounce for a few moments, and then: Maybe you’d like to meet me, before I meet Mary.

Acid bile is rushing up his throat, fear slamming through him as the coldness in his limbs gives way to molten heat. He turns a circle where he stands, about to run out there and start shouting, yelling to wake up Zheng, Ed, anyone.

But the phone buzzes again.

If you warn her, she’ll die.

If you tell him, if you tell anyone, so will he.

If you don’t, they’ll be safe.

The next moment an image pops up, and Stede has to lean back against the gleaming steel refrigerator, a hand to his chest. It’s a long-range image, he’s confident of that. It’s Zheng’s apartment, and then there’s another image arriving, of a specific window, and then a closer shot, and it’s—fuck—it’s their bedroom, Ed this afternoon, just before they got into things, his back to the window. There’s a target on him, and it feels very much like the floor is opening up underneath Stede.

What do you want?

An emoji pops through next, an infuriatingly bland smiling face.

🙂

We want you.

He tries to take a breath, something he’s done every few seconds for all forty-eight of his years on earth so far, but his lungs are closing up on him, his fingertips tingling. He’s seen this kind of exchange on Tree Change, he really has, and every time he’s found himself shouting at the screen, desperately willing Rupert to give Tāne a hint at the end of season two, utterly frantic for Tāne to tell Rupert where he was going just last week.

Suddenly, he understands with searing clarity why they did not, in fact, tell one another anything.

The breath goes in easier as it hits him that he can keep everyone safe, by doing as he’s told. He’s only one person in this team, and perhaps they only want to get the evidence off him, though little do they know, there are many copies now. If only they believe that it ends with him, then it may, in fact, end with him.

But Ed, still sleeping in their bedroom, peaceful and so very sure that Stede will be there in the morning.

But Ed, and forever, and everything they’ve promised each other, none of which is supposed to end with Stede disappearing into the night.

But Ed, who he loves more than life, who he cannot, he cannot risk, not for the consequences of his own stupid actions, flaunting their knowledge in front of the Badmintons.

At some point in a man’s life he has to face the music, for the things he’s done and the people he’s hurt.

The bill has come due.

He takes another shaky breath, and another, feeling the strength trickle back through him, and texts back, Where do I meet you?

The answer comes fast. Our man is waiting right outside. Don’t dally.

And Stede, for all his many, many faults, does not.

Chapter Text

Ed knows there’s something wrong before his eyes are even open.

He blinks into the early morning light, reaches out for Stede, but the other side of the bed is empty. He’s probably taking a piss, or getting a glass of water. Those are the logical conclusions; there are no other conclusions. And then he sits up a little, and jolts as he realises there’s someone standing at the end of the bed.

“Fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “What the fuck?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Teach, I’m so sorry.” The girl’s young, one of Zheng’s crew, Tiff, he thinks? Yeah, Tiff. She’s twisting her hands, looking anxious as hell. “Zheng asked me to come wake you up, ask you to come to the lounge. It’s urgent.”

Ed eases himself up out of the bed carefully, deliberately, casts a glance over the empty rumpled sheets on Stede’s side, and he fucking feels it in his bones.

Something’s wrong. Feels like a storm is coming, but he can’t see it.

He thanks Tiff, tells her he’ll be right out, and then he’s out of bed, he’s shoving his legs into black jeans and throwing on the black tee that Stede only just wore yesterday, and the scent of his cologne—sweet with vanilla, spiced with cinnamon—still lingers there as much as it does on Ed’s skin. He’s not going to panic. He’s not going to panic, even though Stede’s phone is gone off the bedside table. Stede’s pyjamas are not there, but his shoes are, still neatly tucked under the window, and the rest of his clothes folded neatly in the suitcase.

And Stede’s not there, not in the room, not anywhere in the apartment, not anywhere in the building.

By the time he’s done a couple of frantic, determined circuits as Tiff tries to corral him back into the lounge, everyone’s up and waiting for him, and Ed paces the room while Zheng watches him from her armchair. They’re all a blur, his crew, Stede’s crew, Zheng’s. “Where the fuck would he go? Why the fuck would he leave? He knows it’s not safe, he fucking knows that, he—“

He’s left you, Keith had said to Tāne, smug as fuck about it. Went back to his family, remembered he had somewhere he’d rather be than whiling away his hours with a volatile, barely reformed criminal.

Keith, though. Keith had been wrong.

Nobody in the room dares to say the same shit to him, but he knows at least some of them are probably thinking it. He comes to a grinding halt in the middle of the room, whips to look at Zheng. “He didn’t choose to leave.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to consider.” She sounds as insincere as it’s possible to sound while also making her voice sympathetic, and he’s got no clue how she does that. “But no matter the circumstances, he technically did.” Just as she’s saying it one of her crew comes up behind her, passes her a tablet. She watches it carefully for a few moments, and then she turns it around so they can all see it.

Time-stamped close to 2am, a security camera above the rear door of this place, showing a dimly lit alleyway. There’s nothing, and there’s nothing, and then the door swings open and Stede—impossible to miss, the way even the barest glow of lamplight gleams over his hair—walks out purposefully, and away.

“He’s in his pyjamas,” Ed says, and then, voice cracking a little, “My pyjamas. Barefoot, come the fuck on, he didn’t choose this.”

The recording switches to another angle, the main street outside the building, completely abandoned at that time of night. It’s two minutes earlier, and there’s a sudden sweep of lights as a car drives slowly past. And then nothing again, until Stede comes striding out of the alleyway and turns in the direction the car just went.

And then he’s gone.

“There’s got to be another angle,” Ed says, going over there and grabbing the tablet, winding it back, replaying it. On the screen, dim grey, Stede walks away from him over and over again. When he’s gone, he’s just… gone.

Ed needs him back. Fuckin’… now.

“That’s the limit of our surveillance,” Zheng says. “I’m sorry, Ed, for whatever reason, he left under his own steam.”

He snaps to look at Tiff. “Tell me again what he said?”

She blinks, nods, straightens up like she’s taking a test. “He walked past me in the hallway. I asked if he was okay, because he looked like he was crying, and also it was really late, you know? And he just walked past me without saying anything, and then he turned around and said, it’s always like this with… something.” She scrunches her nose. “I’m so sorry, it was something like… steaks? I just thought it was weird, and then I woke up this morning and realised it was maybe something I should tell someone about, and…”

Ed’s breath stutters inward as he gets it, suddenly. “Stakeouts. It’s always like this with stakeouts.” He replays the video again, watches the car glide past. Pauses it, the sleek lines of the thing captured for one recognisable second, and all the breath leaves him in one big whoosh. He turns it back to Zheng. “Does that look like a fucking Mercedes?”

She peers at it, and looks up at him. “I think so. Do you know someone who drives a car like that?”

“Chauncey Badminton,” he grits out. “That fucking bastard.”

There’s a murmur around the room as they take it in, and Ed hands off the tablet and starts pacing again. “We need to track Stede’s mobile. Can we do that?” He looks around the room wildly. “Can anyone do that?”

“He’s not answering,” Lucius says gently, from where he’s perched on the arm of the couch beside Pete, nose wrinkled in regret. “I know you’ve tried a lot, but we all have. I think it’s turned off.”

“Just have to fucking think,” Ed say, more to himself than anyone. He’s going to wear a hole in this carpet at this rate. “What do they want him for? What are they planning to do?”

“I imagine they’ll tell us when they’re ready.” Izzy’s sitting on the couch, legs propped on the coffee table, prosthetic crossed over the regular one. “Maybe we just have to… wait.”

“We can’t. We fucking can’t, in case he’s… he’s running out of time.” He’s not going to think about all the shit that could be happening to Stede right now, he’s not. He’s just going to act. Ed turns back to Zheng. “We’ve got to do something, figure it out.“

“He’s right, unfortunately. We can keep looking, but until they reach out to us—“

Suddenly, Ed’s phone buzzes on the table, and he dives on it and snatches it up, right about fucking time. And yeah, it’s an unknown number, and the message makes his blood run instantly cold.

We have your man.

Do you have the evidence?

All eyes are on him as he reads it out, and Frenchie mutters, “Those dicks.”

“I tell them no, right?” He looks around the room. “I tell them I don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.”

“Tell them yes,” Zheng says calmly. “This is an opening gambit. We have the power here.”

Sure as fuck doesn’t feel like it, but he trusts Zheng enough to trust her with Stede’s life. Ed breathes through his nose before he taps out a reply.

Yeah. And then he adds on, fuck you.

The reply comes back hard and fast.

He’ll be dead in twenty-four hours unless you hand it over.

No copies.

No cops.

No crew.

You know where to find us 🙂

“Okay. Okay.” Ed does not, in fact, have any fucking clue, and he throws the phone down on the couch and goes back to pacing in an instant. “Where the fuck would Chauncey take him? Where would they go?”

Suddenly Izzy’s in front of him, blocking his path. He stops short, and their eyes meet, and the sympathy in Izzy’s nearly takes him out at the knees. Izzy says, “I think I know.”

Ed gets him by the arms, shakes him a little. “Where?”

He nods to the far wall, where there’s a massive map pinned up, of a very familiar landscape. Ed knows it inside and out by now, could trace those topographic lines in his sleep. “The Carmody estate?”

Izzy nods. “Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Ed lets him go, heads over there. Lets his gaze wander from the beach to the wetland to the meadow, fixes on the cabin that’s been their retreat, their escape, their safe harbour. Fuck, no, he doesn’t want that to be the answer. He pivots back to look at Izzy. “Does it make sense?” Nothing makes sense, and all of a sudden the questions are cascading. “I mean, fuck all of those conditions,” Ed says, looking back to Zheng. “Right?”

She nods. “Standard villain talk. We’ll hit them with everything we’ve got.”

It’s about fucking time someone actually told him what’s going on here. “And who’s we, exactly?”

Zheng just laughs. “The authorities are useless. The enforcers are corrupt. We fill the space between, where justice is demanded.”

Fucking cryptic, but all right. Zheng’s crew is some kind of outside-the-system Justice League for the environment, which is basically just a fancy as fuck way of saying they’re real organised eco-pirates, and Ed can respect that. She reminds him of… well, him, in his glory days, just that she’s fucking functional most of the time, though he hasn’t missed the way she melts whenever Oluwande looks at her. They’ve all got enough heart to be susceptible to love, and it’s taken him years and years to learn that’s not a weakness.

Hell no, that’s a strength. He nods to Zheng again. “What can you bring to the party?”

“Oh, Edward.” Her grin widens. “The question is, what can’t we bring?”

~

They drive out to the property in a right fucking convoy this time, cars from all over. Zheng’s on the boat, coming around to the cove. Ed insists on driving one of the tricked out Red Flag cars, because he’s fucked if he’s going to let anyone else define how fast he gets to Stede. It’s pedal to the metal the whole way out there, but most of the crew keeps up.

As agreed, when they get to the little town with the markets, the crew peels off, heading for the property on the other side of the mountain. Ed forces himself to drive slowly, slowly out to the field where the farmer’s market gets set up on the weekends, and slides his car into the parking lot, wedged under the same trees where he and Stede were laughing and happy together only a couple of weeks ago. This time it’s so that nobody picks him up as an on-the-run arsonist, so that’s twice as great.

He thumps his head back against the seat and blinks back the tears that threaten to overwhelm him. He cannot give in to that right now, not when Stede needs him. His brain’s in the highest gear, pinballing back and forth, and he’s looking forward to it settling into the calm decision-making mode that eventually comes from all the fast connections in his head. But in the meantime, he breathes through his nose. Thinks, what would Tāne do?

Promptly thinks, no, fuck, what’s the opposite of what Tāne would do? and lets out a slightly hysterical laugh. He grips the steering wheel tightly, watches the shade shift as the wind blows the branches of the trees overhead back and forth, back and forth. Tāne would lose his shit, yeah.

And then Tāne would fight exactly as hard as he needed to, until he got Rupert back.

Ed sits there in a state of total tension for an hour, until his phone buzzes and he snatches it up. It’s from Izzy, telling him the crew’s arrived and they’re in place, and that’s all he needs. He buckles himself back in, starts the car, and sets off on his own to drive right into the mouth of the lion.

Tracing his way down the ocean road, along the curves set by the dunes.

Flying past the forests that are so similar to the ones on that land, or their land, as he’s come to think of it, the biomes so interlinked, that network of nature reaching out across the world.

Watching the sky arc over him until he runs out of road, and the turnoff appears just over the rise.

The place is so familiar by now that it aches a little as he turns in through the open gate, slowing right down to avoid the rain-channelled dip in the dirt that always jolts him a few yards in. The water reflects the sky like mirror glass in the low lakes, the trees unnaturally still in the forest behind it, all the wind suddenly dropping away to leave it eerie quiet. It’s like the land is speaking to him after the month they had here, telling him to listen, and he drives slowly through the wetland road, looking out for anything out of place, trying to parse her quiet whispers. There’s nothing obvious; tracks in the dirt, yeah, but they might just be his and Stede’s from a few days ago.

Might be. But as he pulls up outside the cabin, the mountain glowing in the afternoon sun across the meadow, everything feels wrong.

He cuts the engine, slides out, stands there and faces the little building that they’d made their home for the last month. So much fucking love poured out right here, shown in every possible way, from words written to bodies connecting, and now he’s here with actions, loving as a verb.

“You’re mine,” he reminds Stede, putting it out into the wind. “Not ready to let you go, mate.”

Tāne might have doubted it, Rupert might have doubted it in return, but he’s got no doubts now. He and Stede, they’re forever. A love like theirs can’t disappear in an instant. They’re joined to one another, intertwined. They’ve written their names on each other in permanent ink, and there’s so, so much more story to tell.

He can feel it, just the same way he could this morning, when his body knew Stede wasn’t there before his brain caught up.

Stede is here, somewhere. Ed’s going to find him.

He flexes his hands as he stares up at the door of the cabin. Once upon a time he would have carried one gun, one knife, just like everyone else, but he’s not willing to risk that kind of escalation here, not if Stede could get caught in any crossfire. He’s going to go into this prepared to talk his way out of it with whoever’s waiting, and if that fails, well.

Unlike those old days, when it was just he and Izzy against the world, they’re not alone anymore.

No time to waste. He makes his way up the stairs, and sets it all in motion.

The door swings open with a squeal of hinges when he nudges it, not locked, and he lets it travel the whole distance to bump into the wall, until the hallway is open in front of him. Still dark in there, just the way they left it with all the curtains closed. He stands there and listens. Outside the usual chorus of insects is buzzing and humming with increasing intensity, but inside the cabin is silent, as if all the life in it came and left with them.

He steps cautiously over the threshold, ear still cocked, eyes peeled, and makes his way in. The kitchen’s just as they left it, orange countertops wiped clean, everything stored away for the theoretical next people to visit, because it’s not theirs. It’s never been theirs, except it really feels like it’s theirs, more and more with every possessive, protective step he takes. He walks in here and he feels them in every molecule of the place, in the quiet, empty lounge, in the neatly tucked in chairs around the dining table. In the bedroom, which as he walks through is also empty, the bed still stripped down, the wardrobe doors slid open. Nothing in the bathroom, either, and he lets out his breath.

Stede’s not here.

Ed goes to the window, plants his hands on the sill and stares out across the forest that rises behind the cabin, Stede’s beloved trees. There’s the mountain. The meadow. The forest. The wetland. The beach. These five environments became their domain from the first day, studied to the tiniest detail as they made themselves part of this world, inextricably weaving themselves into it with every moment of connection.

Ed’s seen the damage, and he’s watched as the world fought back, too. In the weirdest way, it’s like they’re all on the same team, he and the trees and the streams and the sand. They’re holding Stede for him, somewhere safe. That’s all he can let himself believe right now, shoving back any other thoughts about the dangers of this place.

He’s pondering his next move as he walks back out through the cabin and onto the porch, eyes on the meadow, on the mountain, looking for any hint of a clue. And sure, maybe it’s inattention, or maybe he’s underestimated these fuckers, because he takes one step toward the stairs, and suddenly there’s a cold barrel pressed against his neck and Ned Low’s voice is in his ear.

“Edward Teach, we meet again. I’d say it’s a pleasure—“

“But it’s fucking not,” Ed finishes for him, lifting his hands slowly in surrender. “Feeling’s mutual.”

Low chuckles. “Unfortunately for you, in that little war of mutual dislike, I’ve got the upper hand right now.” He shoves the gun harder against Ed’s neck and growls, “Move.”

Back into the cabin, and Ed’s adrenaline spikes with a new wave of rage at Low being in here, in their space. A couple of hench-people materialise out of nowhere and get hold of him while he refuses to give them the satisfaction of a struggle. They search through his clothes roughly, and one of the big guys shouts in triumph as he comes up with the carefully planted USB drive in Ed’s pocket. The woman with filed-sharp teeth binds his hands, ties a rope around his arms, amateur hour shit. Stede had him tied up in here with a purple silk rope ten times more effectively not a month ago.

Low shoves him down onto the couch and stands there staring at him with his smug little grin, tapping the USB drive against his chin until Ed says, “What?”

“I’m just marvelling that you of all people managed to get in the way to this extent.”

Ed snorts. “Guess you underestimated me.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, no.” He waves a hand up and down. “You’re the one tied up on a chair, with your lover gone, all your evidence that easily taken?”

Almost like it’s too easy, hey? This guy hasn’t watched enough Tree Change. Ed sits up at that, tries out the wrist restraints. There’s not much give, but if he just twisted a little, he could… he breathes through his nose, digs for calm. It’s fine. It’s fine, the USB’s a plant, probably going to fill every villain computer with malware and possum memes, and the crew’s going to be here any second to get him out.

All he has to do is live that long. Keep Low talking. “Guess Stede got under your skin, huh?”

Low’s eyes flash with anger. “He’s inconsequential.”

Ed feels his eyebrow bound up, the low hum of his own rage pitching up a notch. “He means a lot fucking more to a lot more people than you ever will.”

“Meant,” Low says, and gives him a cold smile. “He meant, and that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Ed’s not going to believe it. He’s not, not while he’s sitting here in this space where Stede took him to pieces more than once, wrote him stories and beat him at Monopoly and laughed and fell asleep on his shoulder. Not when he can feel Stede out there waiting for him. It doesn’t make logical sense, but he knows it’s true.

He schools his voice to something closer to calm, even if he can’t hide the shake; tells himself it’s fiction, it’s fiction, it’s all a fucking role-play. “Where’d you do it, then? Where’d you kill him? Wouldn’t pick you for a beach guy, or a wetlands guy.”

“They’re growing on me,” Low says, and he slips the USB in his pocket, pulls out a lighter. Flicks it on a couple of times and watches the flame. “Even a foot of water’s deep enough to drown in. Probably better than getting lost in the woods.”

Drowning water, lost in the woods, fuck, Ed’s grabbing hold of this information, trying to shove it in the locked box in his brain, ignoring that lighter as much as he can. Can’t help it if his eyes are drawn to the flame every time it flares, but he drags them back to Low’s face. “Cool. So. What do you want from me?”

“The evidence, of course.”

“You got that. You won.” He desperately needs to change course here. He puts up his chin and says, “Didn’t think you were smart enough to run shit like this. Thought you were a lackey for someone else.”

“Hornigold?” Low scoffs, instantly confirming that Ed’s not wrong about that, even as Low pivots straight into lies. “The man’s washed up. He left space for a fresh take, you know? Could have been you, but then… what happened?” His face is twisted in mock regret. “No really, what happened? You became a sort of… lap dog, and now you’re just the washed up, lowborn dirtbag you were always going to be.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Ed says. It’s true, years back he might have knocked Low down for that kind of insult, but here he is, a fucking success, loved, cared about, and he doesn’t need to draw on the old poison. “I don’t respect you enough for that.”

“Well.” Low keeps on flicking that lighter, and it’s going to drive Ed nuts in a minute, the way it clicks and flares, clicks and flares. “I guess you can just tell me where the copies are before I kill you.”

That escalated quickly, Jesus Christ, is he planning on setting this place on fire? For the first time there’s a real stab of fear. “There are no copies,” Ed says, keeping his tone low. “Your boss told me not to make any, so I didn’t.”

Low just shakes his head and laughs. “As if you’ve got them on you. But you are going to tell me who has them.”

Ed laughs. Can’t help it. “You really think you’re good at this, huh?”

“I do, actually.”

Low’s on him in three sudden steps, pressing the metal top of the lighter against his shoulder and making the skin sizzle, and as the pain sings through Ed and he bites back a yell, his determination only solidifies. He breathes through his nose as Low stands back, teeth gritted. “You can keep trying. Not going to break.”

“I’ll look forward to the moment I prove you wrong.” He checks his watch, grins. “But later. First we’ve got some people to meet.”

Ed doesn’t even get a chance to throw in a smartass comment before Low’s hauling him up off the couch, shoving him toward the hench-people, who drag him out the door.

And down the stairs, and onto the track, as Ed starts thrashing between them in earnest, to no avail. Guy behind him is built like a brick shithouse, and Pointy Teeth has a wicked huge knife and an expression that says she’d like a reason to use it. Right. Okay. He’s got to get where they’re going and figure it out there, lull this fucker into a false sense of security and strike then, make sure the crew has a chance to get involved.

Unfortunately, after another couple of minutes of walking, he finds out exactly why the crew haven’t turned up.

Because they’re already here, now tied up in camp chairs along the edge of the lake, and as Ed gets dragged up, one of Low’s crew kicks the first chair—Archie’s—backwards, catches it with his foot at the last second, just before she was going to get dunked into the water, still tied and unable to get out.

Even a foot of water’s deep enough to drown in.

The guy hauls Archie back up as she swears up a storm at him, Jim thrashing in the next seat with almost feral rage, and Ed catches Low’s eye as he smirks. The guy knows he’s winning here. The only person who looks like he’s having a good time is Roach.

For the first time, Ed stops thinking about what Tāne would do. He doesn’t even think about what he would do. No, this time it’s ringing in his brain, clear as anything: what would Stede do?

And looking at the way Low waltzes along the line of his lackeys, berating them as they roll their eyes at him, Ed thinks he knows the answer, loud and clear.

“Hey,” he says softly. Pointy Teeth turns back to look at him. “What’s your name?”

“Fuck you, that’s my name.” She gives him a smart little smile. “Now shut it.”

“Yeah, all right.” Fuck, this’d be easier for Stede. He’s good with people. Ed’s not so good with people. Channel Stede, channel fucking Stede, come on. He clears his throat. “Fuckin’ great job on the knots, mate, I can barely feel my fingers.”

He sees her still in front of him, and then she turns around and looks back. “Well, thank you. It’s nice to get some positive reinforcement now and then.”

Low’s back a second later, charging up. “Don’t talk to my employee.”

Pointy Teeth rolls her eyes and groans. “Oh, god, here we go.”

Ed can feel the tingles of victory starting. “Guess that’s your problem, huh? You see people as employees instead of as individuals. Part of a crew.”

Pete yells out from up the line, “Go team!”, and the guy behind slaps him across the back of the head, which makes the next henchguy slap him in reprimand.

Low’s still walking around them all, puffed up and full of himself. “None of you would be anywhere without me! You’d all just be continuing your lives of petty crime, not doing something meaningfully evil. Where’s the gratitude?”

The person who’s standing behind Oluwande, big guy with the sleeves cut off his shirt, exchanges a glance with Pointy Teeth, and when Low walks past, he turns. He’s a bulky dude, and it doesn’t leave much room for Low, sends him splashing a couple of steps into the lake, which makes him turn back in rage.

“You oaf, these are very exclusive shoes…”

But he trails away, because he tries to take a step, and his foot just… doesn’t move.

Buttons lets out a triumphant laugh. “Ah, laddie, ye’ve failed to account for the quicksand.”

Low does look like he’s sinking a little, and he looks up with wide eyes, panicked. “Someone get me out. Marvin. Maggie!”

Pointy Teeth, Maggie obviously, just tilts her head and says, “Maybe you should boost your performance a little, Neddy. Try a little harder.” She turns away from him and reaches for Ed’s wrists, pushes the knots through. Looks up at him and says, “No hard feelings, man. A job’s a job.”

He shrugs. “Think we’ve all got the same dicks to blame.”

Ned’s crew are untying the rest of Ed’s team now, releasing them from their chairs, and he’s just sinking lower and lower into the water the more he thrashes. Ed could tell him to stop doing that, that it’s guaranteed to make it worse, but the lake’s in charge here, taking her own revenge.

Who is he to get in the way of Mother Nature?

He pulls a middle finger as Ned goes garbling under the water, and turns back to Maggie. “Do you know where he is? Stede? Blond guy, handsome as fuck, probably never stopped talking after they grabbed him?”

“Haven’t seen him, sorry.”

Back to the drawing board. Ed goes up the line to the very end, where Izzy’s still cursing and fussing in his chair. He’s never wanted anyone to give him special treatment for his leg, and Ed’s not planning on it, but he needs to know that Izzy’s okay, and he needs Izzy’s help.

He offers a hand, but Izzy slaps it away, glares at him.

Considers it for a second, and then says, “Fuck you,” right before he takes Ed’s hand and pulls himself up.

“We need to think again. The forest,” Ed tells him. “Low said something about him being lost in the woods.”

Izzy shakes his head. “They want you to think that. It’s too obvious.”

“Where, then?”

Izzy nods across to the mountain, sitting over there on the horizon like the guardian of the whole place. “It’s been the key all along, yeah?”

Fuck, he’s not wrong. Ed squeezes his shoulder. “Let’s go find him.”

“Ed,” Izzy says, when he’s three steps past. He’s looking almost guilty.

Ed turns back, frowns at him. “What?”

“Thought it might come to this when we got to the other side, before they charged in and snatched us all, so I asked for help, the way you always told me to.”

Ed can’t make head or tails of that until he realises there’s a new car rumbling up behind them, and as it pulls up, a familiar guy leans out the window, wearing a tasselled vest and big aviator sunglasses, grinning widely.

“Hey, good looking! Going my way?”

“Jack,” Ed groans, as his life goes from bad to worse. “Why the fuck are you here?”

Jack hasn’t changed a bit, still with the lank greasy hair and the handlebar moustache and an expression that says exactly what he’s thinking as he shoves the sunglasses onto his head and rakes his eyes up Ed’s body. Not the fucking time, no time ever will be again. Ed learned his lesson. “Izzy told me you might need a guy who knows how to climb.”

Ed cuts his gaze to Iz, who shrugs. “Instinct says we’re going up that mountain and we’re going to find something.”

Ed stares at him for a long time, unease prickling over his neck. “You seem pretty fucking sure of that.”

“I’m good at my job,” Izzy says. “Are we going to stand here all day, or…?”

It’d be easy to be paranoid here, it really fucking would.

He’s going to trust Izzy right now, for Stede. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, let’s go up the mountain.”

~

Jack drives them over there, talking a mile a minute the whole way, catching Ed up on everything he’s been doing since the last time they met. Seems to basically be a long run of drinking, fucking, thrill seeking, on constant repeat. Ed used to be into that, but his life’s not like that anymore.

“You should come hang out sometime,” Jack says. “Relive the old days a little, cut yourself loose from whatever the fuck this is.”

For a second he thinks Jack means this whole fucked up villain situation, but then it dawns on him that he’s talking about Ed’s life, in general. And once again he’s got to ask himself, what does Jack know about any of that? Ed cuts a glare at him from the passenger seat. “I like whatever the fuck this is. Never been happier.”

Jack snorts out a laugh. “Okay, grandpa.”

Asshole. He bites his tongue, because he’s got more important shit to focus on. They’re pulling up to the mountainside, the slope stretching up high over them, blotting out the sun from this position. And he’s about to ask Izzy where his instinct is pointing him, but staring up at the blue reaches of the sky, he suddenly knows.

Acid washes through him as he twists in his seat, looks back at Izzy. “Are you serious?”

He nods. “It makes sense.”

It makes theoretical sense, yeah, but also none at all. “What the fuck has Stede done to deserve that, from any of these people?”

“He got in the way,” Izzy says, and he sounds fucking mournful about it, which only makes Ed’s panic intensify.

Ed turns back to Jack, who’s watching him with a curiously raised brow. “Get the ropes. We’re going up.”

It’s maybe the fastest he’s climbed this thing in the last few weeks, striding off up the rocky path toward the peak as the other two scramble to keep up with him. He’s not ready to believe that Stede’s fucking dead, he’s not. But he knows things are not looking good, if Izzy’s right.

He ignores the way his chest burns with every step, the way his knee’s starting to ache. He just puts one foot in the other, stepping around fallen rocks, climbing and climbing until the whole world’s spread out beneath them, and he runs out of track, standing in front of the cave entrance Izzy blew apart a couple of weeks ago.

The one with the dead drop down into an abandoned mineshaft, nowhere to go at the bottom, more like an empty well than anything.

Bile is rising in the back of his throat as he stares into the darkness, as Izzy and Jack finally catch up, coming up behind him with a scuff of boots on rock. He presses a hand to the overhang, tries to ground himself here and now. Breathes deeply, once, twice, because he has to do this. He has to know.

He leans into the cave and yells, “Stede?”

His voice echoes down the shaft and back up again, loneliest fucking sound in the world to hear Stede’s name thrown back at him like that, in his own voice.

There’s nothing. There’s no reply. He turns to Izzy, who’s pulling the camera out of his pack with a grim expression, because the next step is lowering it down there to see if Stede’s… yeah, down there, and… down there.

And then. And then, just as his heart’s grinding in his chest, echoing up the shaft, there comes a weak, “Ed?”

His heart turns over, restarted, and he goes down on his knees, onto his belly, leaning down over the dark pit. “Stede? Stede?”

The reply comes back immediately this time. “Ed! I’m here! I’m down here!”

He lets out a half hysterical laugh, because where the fuck else would he be? “We’re coming, mate. Hold on.”

He pulls back from the edge, crawls out and turns back to the others, suddenly filled with fizzing tension. “He’s down there. He’s alive. You were right.”

“Course I was,” Izzy says.

Jack’s already pulling out ropes, pulleys, anchors, all of it falling to the ground in a clanking mess, and Ed’s suddenly grateful that he’s here after all, because nobody climbs like Jack.

“So you’re going down, huh?” Jack says. “Gotta get your ponce of a boyfriend.”

Ed bristles. “What the fuck, don’t be an asshole.”

Jack laughs. “Good one. This tiger can’t change his stripes, pal.” He sifts a pile of orange rope through his hands, somehow gets the knots out of it. Hands Ed a rock drill and a couple of steel anchor points. “You still remember how to do this?”

“Yeah, I do, dickhead. Hasn’t been that long.”

He gets to work, drilling in a couple of points into the stony ground, making his way around the nearest boulder and setting up a lock there, too, so that the rope’ll have a backup point if anything goes wrong. The whole way, his mind’s spinning. That shaft’s got to be a hundred, two hundred feet deep. Nobody, no matter how lucky they are, would survive a fall down that fucking thing.

Stede wouldn’t survive a fall like that. That’s the thing he can’t shake.

He’s still thinking it when he goes to drill in his final anchor point, and finds… one already there, right where he was going to put it, the silver gleaming in the ground. He looks at the one in his hand, the one on the floor. They’re conventional climbing gear, yeah, but they’re identical.

Your ponce of a boyfriend.

Jack’s never met Stede, right? Right? Jack shouldn’t know a single fucking thing about him, other than whatever Izzy might have said. So okay, yeah, maybe Ed’s still operating on a certain level of paranoia, but that feels kinda justified, all things considered. Suddenly, though, he thinks he knows exactly how Stede came to be down that shaft, and it makes his blood run cold.

You’re going down, huh?

He’s not going down there with Jack on the other end of that rope, no fucking way. There’s a sudden level of calm overtaking him as he makes his way back to where Jack’s connecting the last of the carabiners to the belay device. They had a good time, he and Jack, right up til the day where Jack—being Jack—smashed a bottle of vodka over the bar they were in and set it alight.

And yeah, okay, Jack had been the one who pulled Ed out of the building at the last minute, but Jack had also been the one who bolted after and left Ed to get nabbed by the police. Thankfully there’d been enough evidence that Ed got off, and they caught up with Jack instead, but after years of I saved your life, man, Ed’s come around to understanding that Jack risked it in the first place, and he doesn’t owe the guy shit.

Still. There’s all that history, and as he comes back around to face Jack, to see if he’s right that one of his oldest friends has betrayed him here, it hurts.

“Knee’s a bit fucked from all that climbing,” Ed says. “Guess it’s going to have to be you going down there after all.”

Jack goes still for a second before he looks up at Ed. “It’s not only you getting old, man. I fucked my shoulder up yesterday.”

“Yeah? Where was that, at home?” Jack lives one state over now, and yet Izzy had called him up—Ed’s still not ready to look too closely at that—and here he is, right away. “You got here fast.”

Jack gives an elaborate shrug. “Happened to be in the area. Happy coincidence.”

“Sure it was.”

Jack pivots to look at Izzy. “Guess it’s gonna have to be you.” He looks down at Izzy’s leg and snorts. “Or not, we got ourselves the three fucking Stooges here.” He looks back at Ed. “Guess this guy doesn’t matter that much after all.”

Ed would go down there if he was on fire, if it meant saving Stede. But right now, it’s not about that. He knows in his bones that this is the flashpoint of this bullshit, that if he goes down that shaft, neither he or Stede are coming back up again.

“I’ll do it,” Izzy says quietly, and they both turn to look at him. “Leg doesn’t stop me doing anything you two can do.”

Ed doesn’t know how to read this now. Doesn’t know if Izzy’s involved here, can’t get his head around the ways they might both have been set up, or whether Izzy’s making some kind of sacrifice by doing this, or what. His brain’s just fucking jammed with static as he tries to make sense of it, but Jack bends down and hooks up a harness, holds it out to Izzy.

“Little big for you, but I’m sure you can make it work.”

And there’s no other choice, is there? Ed’s not going down there, Stede’s got to come back up, someone’s got to help him. Izzy it is.

It’s Ed who helps him into the harness, buckles it all up and tests it out, makes sure everything’s tight and secure and safe. It also gives him the chance to turn away from Jack, to talk to Izzy up close. “Something’s off here.”

Izzy huffs. “No shit.”

“Gonna do my best to keep you safe from up here, okay?”

“Wouldn’t be going down there if I didn’t believe it.” He goes to turn away, but Ed yanks him back, looks him in the eye. Tries to read what’s there, absolutely fucking desperate to know that Izzy’s not going to cost him everything here, that he’s really on Ed’s side. He believes it, looking back at his oldest friend.

“You bring Stede up safe. Please.”

Izzy shakes him off, jaw set. “I’ve still got it, Edward. You can trust that. You can trust me.”

Ed goes across and digs through the pack until he comes up with the set of walkie talkies Izzy had brought. Switches them on, fiddles the dial until they get to a free channel, tests them out. Presses one into Izzy’s hands and says, “Keep talking to me.”

They’re watching Izzy climb into the shaft five minutes later, and Izzy gives one last glance upward, makes eye contact with Ed, expression unreadable. And then he’s heading into the darkness, his headlamp beaming downward.

“Izzy’s coming for you!” Ed yells down the shaft. “Hold tight, he’ll be there soon.”

Izzy can drop himself down there with this setup, and then Ed and Jack will use the pulley system and a fuck-off huge winch to haul them both back up. And it takes time, descending that far, and that leaves Ed standing up here with a guy he’s convinced is here to fuck him over, resisting the urge to punch him right in the fucking teeth.

Jack’s leaning against the outside of the cave, staring out over the landscape, gum cracking between his teeth, and when he catches Ed staring at him, he grins. “You know when I heard you’d shacked up with that guy, I thought—“

It’s all the confirmation he needs. “You didn’t just happen to be here, did you, Jack?”

Jack snorts. “Took you long enough.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Who sent you?”

They’re up the top of the mountain here, separated from everyone who could help them, and Izzy and Stede are down there in that shaft, completely dependent on Ed to get them out. His nerves are tightening with every second.

Jack looks no more fussed than he has at any point, like this is all totally reasonable. “Who the fuck do you think?”

He doesn’t even want to ask it, but right now seems like the most urgent time, as Izzy’s on his way down to Stede. “Was it Izzy?”

Jack glances down at the mineshaft, then back up at Ed. “Nah. You know you think you get out from under the old man, but he’s always holding the reins.”

“Hornigold,” Ed breathes. “What the fuck does he want?”

Jack does squiggly fingers in the air, quoting. “What he’s owed, whatever the fuck that means. I don’t know, man, I just take the money.”

“And screw over your oldest friend in the process?”

Jack’s laugh is closer to a snicker than anything. “Eco-pirates don’t have friends. We’re all just in different stages of fucking each other over.”

Ed points down the shaft. “He’s my friend, Jack. Both of them are.”

The rope goes slack right at that second, and then the radio on his hip crackles, and Izzy says, “I’m down.”

Everything else is instantly forgotten. “Is he okay?”

There’s a pause, and then, “I’m okay.” Stede’s voice is weak, but determined. “I missed you, Ed.”

Ed squeezes his eyes shut as Jack lets out a cackle in the background, and he’s overwhelmed with a stinging mix of love and fear. “I’m here, babe. I’ve got you, Izzy’s got you. We’re going to make it.”

“He’s hooked up,” Izzy says. “Get pulling.”

They’ve got two ropes, two pulleys, both attached to the winch, which rumbles and whines to haul them both up. All the weight is distributed through the pulleys, all the effort is in the winch, but before long, Ed’s burned shoulder is aching with the effort of guiding the rope through, making damn sure there aren’t any hitches.

He’s keeping constant watch over Jack, too, now sure he can’t trust the guy not to knock them all in if he lets his attention drop for even a second. Jack’s a safe twenty feet away, now sitting on a boulder sending up a stream of cigarette smoke.

Fuck him, honestly. Ignoring them like this is nearly as bad as active sabotage. “You going to help?”

Jack’s staring off down the mountain, and he gives a half-assed shrug. “Shoulder, told you already.”

“How did you injure that, Jack?”

His lip curls in a smile. “Just a little climbing struggle.” He pushes up, goes sauntering off toward the edge, peers out over it. “You always forget how much of a dead weight a new climbing partner can be.”

Ed’s still got the ropes gliding through the winch at his feet, still has every fibre of his body focussed on the two guys he can hear bumping up the shaft together not too far below now, Izzy cursing and Stede complaining from time to time, exactly on brand. He loves them both in different ways, and he knows exactly what Jack’s saying. He did take Stede down there, knocked out cold, and then he fucking left him to die. “How do you sleep at night, man?”

“On a pillow of cash,” Jack says, leaning casually over the side. “I sleep easy.”

“Fuck you,” Ed says. “Fuck you.”

And he’s focussed on what he’s doing, so fucking focussed, that he misses the shriek of the bird at first, until the sound calls his attention upwards. It’s floating over them, a bird of prey of some kind, but it’s got a rock between its talons, and Jack looks up. Laughs. Pulls a length of climbing rope off his belt and starts swirling it like a whip.

“Oh yeah, bird? You want a go?”

It all happens fast. Jack flicks the rope up at it, and the bird flaps hard, lifts up just far enough to avoid it. And then it drops the fucking rock, and Jack only has time to throw up his arms with a shriek before it hits him, sends him staggering a couple of steps back toward the edge.

He’s standing there wobbling, line ball, might make it one way or the other, except that there’s motion on the slope under him, and the next thing, there’s a goat right there.

Jack lets out a startled laugh as he catches his balance. “What the fuck do you want, you horny asshole?”

It lets out a bleat, and then it butts the slope, which doesn’t seem to do much except for releasing a trickle of rocks. But then the trickle doesn’t stop. Just keeps getting bigger, and bigger, until the ground Jack’s standing on starts to shift.

He looks back at Ed, panic in his eyes. “Eddie!”

He’s standing there above the rapidly turning winch, the lives of his best friend and his lover held securely in those ropes, and he can only shrug. “You reap what you sow, man.”

The rest of the slope crumbles, and Jack’s gone with an echoing cry that fades into the distance.

Ed’s heart is hammering as he stands there, because what the fuck is happening here? First the lake, now the mountain, and he’d thought it earlier, but… maybe the land is fighting back. Maybe they just need to get the right people in the right places.

In that one moment of distraction, there’s a sudden grinding crunch, and the winch stops. Ed dives over to it and shuts it off so that it can’t snap the rope, but fuck. He can see them down there, maybe ten more feet from the surface. “Hold on!” he yells down. “I’m going to do one at a time.”

He grabs the first rope he can and hauls it through the pulley, hand over hand, arms burning in no time, but it’s only a minute before a helmet appears over the top.

It’s Izzy. He throws his arms up over the edge and scrambles up onto the rocks as Ed runs over to pull him the rest of the way. Izzy sprawls there for a second, catching his breath. And then he’s pushing himself up again, striding over to Stede’s rope and hauling on it.

Ed makes it over there to help in seconds, and it goes much easier with two of them. “Jack’s gone,” he says, and doesn’t elaborate. “Did you know about this, Iz?”

“No,” he grits out, yanking harder. “I’ve been with you the whole time. I walked away from that shit a long time ago.”

And Jack said as much, told him Izzy wasn’t part of it. But. But. “You called him to come here.”

“I thought he could help,” Izzy snaps. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Ed.”

He judged it wrong, Ed can see that. He knows Izzy and Jack had their dalliances back in the day, and he knows how blind that can make you to the truth. He’s not blind to what Izzy’s saying now.

Izzy nods to the edge. “Get ready.”

Stede’s right there in the gloom, jerking ever higher as Izzy hauls. He’s wearing the spare helmet Izzy took down, dull blue over the curls that peek out the edges, and every inch closer to the surface has Ed’s hopes soaring higher. He’s right there, right there, when there’s a bang that echoes off every bit of rock, and Izzy lets out a sharp yell behind him, and suddenly the rope is slithering past Ed at a rate of knots. Stede looks up at him with panic in his eyes, and Ed only has a second to lunge and grab his arm before he drops.

Holding on. Can’t let go. If he does, everything he cares about will fall, and he will not, he will not let that happen.

He scrambles to hold his grip on the ground, grunting with effort as he pulls Stede upward, until Stede manages to sling an arm over the edge, and Ed can grab hold of the back of his shirt and pull him the rest of the way, all the way over until he collapses onto Ed’s chest, rolling the two of them away from the edge.

Locked up together, Stede instantly sobbing into his shoulder. He’s still wearing Ed’s pyjamas, no shoes, and he’s fucking freezing, shivering like crazy, because yeah, he’s spent all night at the bottom of a mineshaft.

Ed’s about to start pouring out love and reassurance and relief, everything else forgotten, but the next second, there’s a loud click, and he looks up to find the silver barrel of a gun pointed directly at his face, his old mentor grinning behind it as he stands over them both.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Got yourself involved in some shit, eh?”

Ed does the only thing he can; he rolls over and protects Stede with his body as he scrambles up onto his knees, shoving the guy behind him. “What are you doing here, Ben?”

“Thought you’d’ve figured it out by now.” Hornigold gestures back down the mountain. “They brought me in to fix their little problem.” And then he leans closer and stage-whispers, “That’s you two.”

He’s changed since the last time Ed saw him, but only in that he’s grown older and greyer and uglier, the same cold anger etched all over his face. “You don’t need to do this. Whatever bullshit plot you’ve got going on, that’s nothing to do with us.”

He just laughs, exactly the same way he used to when Ed was a kid fresh out of college, and he questioned whatever batshit insane thing his boss told him to do. “You made it all about you.”

Stede’s still behind him, and Ed hasn’t even had a chance to look at him properly, but he speaks out anyway, indignant. “That choice was made for us. It’s not fair.”

Hornigold shrugs. “Life’s not fair.” He nods over at Izzy. “Ask him.”

And Ed finally gets a chance to look, to figure out why Izzy let go of that rope, and—fuck. “Iz—“

Hornigold cocks the gun, slides it across to aim it at Stede. “Don’t make me shoot him next.”

Because Iz has been shot, yeah, that much is obvious. He’s down on his back, slumped against the rock wall, legs in the sun and head in the shade, and there’s deep red bubbling between his fingers where they’re pressed to his gut, his face pale as he looks up at Ed, panting. “I’m sorry, Ed.”

“The fuck are you apologising for?” he sobs out. “I’m the one who should be sorry, dragging you back into this.”

“Touching,” Hornigold says, sounding like he’s bored. “Won’t matter. He’s got minutes at best.”

Ed’s so busy staring at Izzy that he barely feels Stede pulling the walkie talkie out of his back pocket until the second it comes free of his pocket. Fuck, they’ve got a chance here. Stede’s hiding it behind him, but Ed knows, he knows Stede’s pressed the button down, broadcasting whatever he says. He can only fucking hope that someone on the crew is listening in.

“Izzy’s been shot,” he says, nice and loud and clear. “He’s up the top of the mountain, you’ve got to let me help him.”

Hornigold shrugs. “No coming back from that. Pointless effort. You can try, though.”

“At least some bandages,” Stede says loudly. “Something to stop the bleeding until emergency transport can get here.”

“Oh, that won’t be happening, but good one, buddy, good one.”

That’s enough to tell the crew where they are, what’s needed, and he raises his hands slowly and moves away from Stede, confident that he’ll know hide that radio, the volume turned right down. He moves slowly, carefully, but Hornigold doesn’t shift the gun from Stede as Ed goes down on his knees next to Izzy and presses his own hands over the wound, feeling the warmth slipping between his fingers instantly, staining them red.

The panic’s rising in him as he tries his best to hold Izzy’s life inside his body. Iz looks up at him through hooded eyes. “You can leave all this behind, you know. Make it work, with him.”

Ed presses harder, tries to put all his energy into that bullet wound, like willpower alone could be enough to stop this happening. “I don’t want a speech, mate, don’t give me a fucking speech.”

“Fuck you.” Izzy chokes out a laugh. “Got some things to get off my chest.”

“Not the time.”

“There might not be another time, you twat.” His eyes are dimming, and Ed can’t accept this, he fucking can’t.

He stops trying to hold in the blood, gets his arm under Izzy’s neck and pulls him closer. Tells him right to his face. “There will be, Iz. Not letting you go that easy.”

“Don’t have any choice in it.” No, because Hornigold’s done this, and he’s got the gun on Stede, and Ed’s going to kill him. He’s going to fucking kill him. Izzy reaches up and touches his chin, pulls his attention back. “I have love for you, Edward.” He’s breathing fast, face getting paler every moment. “I pulled you back into this life over and over because I needed you. And then I walked away, and I found out I didn’t. But fuck it, Eddie, I want you in my life, even if we’re not what we were. This past few days have been… good.”

“Fucked up,” Ed mutters through his teeth, trying not to sob. “Absolutely fucked, you mean.”

“And fun.” Izzy smiles, real genuine shit, and that’s so fucking rare for him. “Don’t forget to have fun. This crew taught me that.”

This is not fucking fun. Ed squeezes him tighter, rocks them both a little. “We’re going to figure out a new way, okay? We’re going to be one team again. You’re part of that.”

“I know.” Izzy lifts one bloodied hand, but it falls short of Ed’s cheek this time. “Just like Keith, hmm? Just like Keith, I want a stupid fucking cocktail.”

And before Ed can ask him what the fuck he means by that, Izzy’s eyes slip shut, and he slumps heavily. Ed lets out a whimpered sob as Izzy slides to the ground. Over by the edge of the pit, Stede’s staring at them both, his face twisted with stunned grief as he meets Ed’s eye.

From behind him, Hornigold says, “You done? Places to go, people to see, Eddie.”

He waves the gun, and Ed stands like a puppet still tied to his strings, his lap wet with Izzy’s blood, the numbness spreading. He hasn’t broken Stede’s gaze, and Stede looks terrified. Big graze on his cheek, hair all scuffed, still shivering. But he also looks fucking furious, like that fire in his gut hasn’t dipped a bit.

Ed puts his chin up. “Where are we going?”

“To see a man about a dog.” Hornigold grins, all teeth, and gestures to the mountain slope. “Get a move on.”

Stede manages to push himself up and take enough staggering steps forward for Ed to catch him, leaning heavily over his shoulder, and fuck, it’s good to have his arms around the guy again, to be able to breathe him in. He gives himself a second to press his nose to Stede’s neck, to just hold him, to murmur in his ear. “Thought I’d lost you.”

“Never,” Stede says fiercely. “Never, ever.”

“Go!” Hornigold yells, and yeah, okay. They’re getting out of here, one way or another.

~

It’s not easy going. Stede’s weak, and Ed has to support his weight as well as his own the whole way down the slip-sliding slope, paying extremely careful attention to make sure he doesn’t pitch them both the same way he watched Jack go. The cabin’s down there with the slowly setting sun gleaming off the roof like a beacon, calling them home, but Hornigold’s behind them with a gun, and fuck only knows what they’re heading towards.

“What’s the plan?” Stede whispers.

“Don’t have a plan,” Ed shoots back, and then he has to pause on that. “Trust the crew, that’s all we’ve got.”

“Good,” Stede says, somehow managing to sound fond about it even as he sounds exhausted. “That’s good, we’re going to be fine.”

“Course we are.” He’s never been less convinced of that as he readjusts his grip around Stede’s waist and shuffles them ten more steps down, his knee screaming in protest.

They make it to the base, somehow. Jack’s car’s still sitting there, Ed’s door wide open where he’d dived out earlier, too impatient to think about anything but moving toward Stede.

“Keep moving!” Hornigold yells, reading his thoughts about whether there’s any way he could dive in and escape, drive them right out of here and keep going. But he can’t get there without risking another shot.

There’s a movement in the grass up ahead that catches Ed’s eye, and his brain writes it off as a trick of the light, for a second. But then the grass rustles again, and he catches a glimpse of a red vest, a flash of a face with a determined grin, and holy shit, that’s Archie.

He throws a glance at Stede, whose brow is furrowed with pain on each step, who hasn’t seen it.

But then it comes again, this time a brown hand reaching up above the grass in a familiar pose. Cobra style, and Ed immediately understands. Utters a silent apology in his head a second before he abruptly lets Stede go.

Stede takes another step before his legs give out on him completely, and he tumbles with a, “Wha—“

Ed goes down with him, just enough to soften the landing in the wildflowers. Hornigold lets out a shout behind them, but in a second it pitches up into a higher shriek, and then everything whirs into motion at once.

Archie yells, “Now that’s a fuckin’ rattlesnake in your meadow, mate!”

Ed shoves up off the ground, high enough to see over the wildflowers, and yeah, there’s Hornigold going down, red in the face, eyes bulging as he falls. Next minute Frenchie’s behind Ed, hands under his arms, pulling him up and away.

“Izzy,” he gets out. “Up the mountain, fuck—“

Frenchie’s all but dragging him toward the car now. “Got the message loud and clear. Roach is already up there, chopper on the way.”

Olu’s got Stede up, too, and he stumbles forward again, and Ed catches him. Really holds him this time, arms locked around each other as Stede’s breath huffs warm against his collar. “Where was he taking us? To whom?”

Ed looks up, because that’s a good fucking question. There hasn’t been much thought in his head today except for getting to Stede, making sure he’s okay. He’s fought his way through Ned Low, Jack, Hornigold, what the fuck, this is some Scott Pilgrim shit. Who’s left?

“Badminton?”

Stede shudders against him. “God, he… well. He’s dead.”

Ed’s brows go up in surprise, because now that he thinks about it, there are a lot of dead villains around here? “What happened?”

“Hornigold sent me a message, told me that I had to come, or he’d—“ He leans back, and his eyes go wide. “Oh, god, I didn’t get to explain. Ed, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I left, I know it was stupid, I know we’ve seen it a million times before—“

“And that’s exactly why I knew what was going on, mate. We’re not on Tree Change.”

Stede snorts. “Well. The characters are probably glad of that, this is much more insane.” He turns to look across at the forest. “He sent me pictures of Doug’s town, told me he knew where Mary and the children were. Pictures taken of you through the window, threatening to harm you all. They told me to leave Zheng’s place, meet someone outside, and of course it was Chauncey. He drove me out here, telling me the whole way how much I ruined things. His brother, my family, you—“

“Bullshit,” Ed says. “Never.”

“I know. I know that.” He touches Ed’s cheek. “A month ago I might have believed him, but now I don’t. But I was never going to let any harm come to you, and so I went, knowing you’d come after me.”

Ed would still quite like to burn it all down. All of it, a couple of times over. “And Chauncey?”

“He got lost on the way, didn’t know this place at all. I think he was drunk. He took me through the woods with a gun at my back, told me he was going to end my… my reign of terror.”

Ed groans. “Grayson Maxwell would never be that cheesy.”

“You wouldn’t script it, it’d be too on the nose.” Stede sniffs. “At some point he tripped, and the gun went off, and…”

There’s that shudder again, and Ed tows him in, wraps him up tight. Squeezes him until his shoulders stop shaking. “We’ll get help, okay? Book you in with a therapist, work through it together. We’ve been through some traumatic shit here.”

Stede nods against him. “Of course. Of course. I screamed, god, I was… out of my body for a minute, completely out of my mind. And then Hornigold and Jack appeared, seemed as if they were going to help me, and then Jack hit me over the head. I woke up in the pitch dark, no idea where I was.”

Ed can’t fucking believe the magnitude of this, just an absolute parade of assholes out to get them. But they’ve beaten down every single one, piece by piece. They’ve survived. And it’s partly because they know this place, and this place knows them.

He’s not going to think about what it’s going to do to his head if Izzy doesn’t make it. Even as he thinks it, there’s the low thump in the air of a chopper coming in from the other side, and at least there’s a chance. Just like Keith, Izzy had said, and yeah, okay, it’s probably hard to decide if you’re really done for from inside your own body, and that had not looked good. But faking out to make Hornigold leave? Yeah, that’s the kind of ice cold smart move he knows Izzy’s got in him, and it gives him hope.

“So who’s left?” Stede says. “I hate to say it, but…”

“Ricky,” Ed grits out. “And… your father.”

“It’s not like him to get his hands dirty. Sends everyone else out to do his dirty work for him.”

Ed hums. “Yeah, Ned Low’s at the bottom of the lake right now.”

Stede’s brows rise. “Good riddance.”

Absolutely. “So. Ricky.”

Just then, there’s a crackle across the radios, and Auntie’s voice comes through. “Target acquired. Jim’s in the water.”

Their eyes meet, and Stede nods toward the horizon. “Sounds like we should be heading for the beach.”

~

Someone retrieves the car that Ed tells Stede Jack turned up in—that asshole, who also got what was coming to him, he’s now heard—and they load into that, head onto the bumping track toward the beach. Ed’s driving with his jaw set with determination, and Stede’s heart is finally, finally thumping at a steady rate, feeling safe and secure again after a day of utter terror.

So many times he’d thought all was lost. He’d sat at the bottom of that pitch-dark mineshaft, shivering in the thick darkness, and pushed away every single thought but Ed. Desperately hoping that Ed was far, far from here, that he was going to stay safe.

And then Ed’s voice had come echoing down, waking him from a fitful sleep, and it had been the sweetest sound he’d ever heard in his life.

His mind is still whirling with everything that’s happened, all these horrors visited on them at once, for what? For the crime of caring too much about the environment, for getting in the way of his childhood bullies? For being born his father’s son? That above all else is painful.

But god, he’s seen that exact same thing play out on the screen with Rupert, hasn’t he? At the end of it all, at the beginning of their happily ever after, Lionel Stafford is in jail, and Rupert’s living the life he always dreamed of.

Tāne had asked him, in that final episode, how he felt about his father’s conviction.

And Rupert’s reply had simply been, free.

Stede’s ready to feel that, once and for all.

They pull up to the beach, and the car has barely stopped before everyone loads out. There in the cove is the familiar sleek line of Zheng’s boat, and not far from it is another one, bigger and uglier and more ostentatious. Ricky’s standing at the bow of his ship, Zheng at the bow of hers, and he’s shouting insults that barely drift in on the wind, a fist raised.

As they watch, Zheng just lifts one hand in a middle finger, and the next moment, there’s the thud of an explosion, rocking them all, and an enormous gush of water comes bubbling up from underneath Ricky’s boat. Jim comes climbing up over the railing of Zheng’s boat like a black-clad spider just in time to see the thing start to sink rapidly as Ricky shrieks and shouts for his crew to rescue him.

But nobody moves in his direction; whatever crew he’s got left is loading into a life raft at the back, pushing away as the ship rapidly tilts and keels over, taking him with it.

Stede sucks in a breath, and then another, trying not to break down as Ed wraps him up in another tight hug. “That’s it. I think it’s done.”

“It sure fucking is.” Jackie comes strolling up behind them, and the Swede’s with her, but this time dressed in a suit that matches hers, sharp navy blazer with a crisp white shirt underneath. She flashes a badge. “Environmental Protection Agency, Criminal Investigation Division. We’ve been hunting that motherfucker for a long time. I’ve been undercover at Shuttlecock for longer than I care to remember.”

Ed looks stunned. “Fuck off.”

Stede just stares at her, his brain glitching. “But if you had that access, why didn’t you just arrest him? Why didn’t you stop this?”

“We needed proof.” She grins. “You found the proof, you are the proof. This whole bullshit situation just escalated the whole thing up to a RICO violation, brings in the FBI as well.” She hands Stede a piece of paper, and he attempts to read it for two hazy seconds before he gives up and passes it to Ed.

He scans the page over and looks up at Jackie. “Final condition of transfer from Carmody to Shuttlecock to Bonnet Financial.”

He sags against Ed. “God, someone just tell me what it means.”

“This has been a scam from the beginning. Carmody used this place to dispose illegally of waste for years. Got caught out after one of the transfers spilled in the harbour, had to come clean this place up before anyone thought to look, make it look like they were fixing shit instead of breaking it. They transferred it to the Badmintons as a charity thing, but they sold it to your father, who had plans to sell it back to Carmody so they could keep on using it for the same purpose, after it was cleared.”

She nods back to the mountain. “They just found a new truckload of waste going in there this morning, right back to it.”

“Well… shit.” Stede still doesn’t fully understand. “And we?”

“You were meant to take the fall, come across as incompetent so that nobody would question the results again, just know that you tried and failed. And then you figured out too much, and they decided they wanted you out of the way completely.”

“What about the charges?” Ed asks. “That whole arson thing?”

Jackie raises her brows. “Did you burn down that building?” They both let out an indignant no at the same time, and she chuckles. “The FBI knows that. You’re clear.”

“And Izzy?” Ed’s voice cracks a little. “Tell me he’s going to be okay.”

The Swede leans in. “On his way to the hospital now, vital signs good. He’ll be fine.”

“Christ.” Stede turns back to the water, where there’s nothing more than a vague amount of bubbling where Ricky’s boat had been. “So that really is that, then.” And then he turns back. “What happens to this place?”

Jackie grins. “Once your father’s tried and probably convicted, it’s going to belong to the Federal government.” She leans in closer. “I guess what happens after that is going to depend on who’s available to fix it up.”

He exchanges a glance with Ed, whose raises a brow at him, and then all of a sudden he needs to sit on the sand.

Jackie’s on her radio a second later, calling in Roach, and Ed drops down beside him, pulls him back to lie in his lap as he strokes the hair away from Stede’s face. “You did good. You did so good.”

The sun’s nearly set out there, the horizon just glowing with orange and peach, and there’s an odd sort of ringing in his ears, and the only thing his brain can fix on seems to be the silliest possible thing. “We missed today’s prompts,” he says, sniffing a little, which is ridiculous. “First time we’ve failed.”

“There’s still tonight,” Ed says, and then he grins, because they both know nothing’s happening tonight. “Mate, we already established we can load up a couple at once. Still got three days of the month to go, okay? That’s the last thing you need to worry about right now.”

Stede nods, and closes his eyes, and lets his exhaustion overcome him. It’s been a good month, yes. But they’ve always said that when it’s time to rest, it’s time to rest.

~

It’s a montage of fragmented moments from there for Stede’s exhausted brain.

He blinks awake again in an ambulance, Ed sitting next to him, holding his hand and staring down at him with dark, worried eyes.

Again in a hospital bed, the heart monitor a slow beep, a cuff inflating noisily around his arm every hour. Every time he opens his eyes Ed’s curled up in a big armchair beside the bed, sleeping soundly. Ed can sleep anywhere, thank goodness for that.

In the morning, the crew wander through in noisy, chaotic little bundles, and Mary calls through, and so do half a dozen different media outlets, until Ed extracts Stede’s phone and switches it off and shoves it in his bag.

“Rest,” he says, and Stede can only obey. Dehydration, exposure, a mild concussion; he’s very lucky, he knows that. Ed’s knee has been iced and bandaged, the awful burn on his shoulder patched up under a dressing, but he’s otherwise well. Well enough that late in the evening, after the nurses have delivered their final doses of medication and done their final checks, they’re staring at one another through the darkness, until Stede pats the bed beside him.

Ed’s up in an instant, climbing in there. Stede turns on his side, hefting his IV line out of the way, and Ed curls around him like an octopus, burying his nose against the back of Stede’s neck as he sniffles wetly, crying properly for the first time.

“We’re okay,” Stede whispers, glad to finally be able to give some care back. “We really are.”

He wakes to the next morning’s nurse fussing about the two of them being tangled up together like that, but she’s smiling as she hustles Ed back to his chair and tells Stede he’s being discharged, good as new. As soon as he’s released, as soon as he manages to change into the clothes Ed brought him, they go hand in hand to the Intensive Care Unit.

One visitor at a time, so Ed goes first, but Stede goes second.

Izzy’s tucked up in an identical bed to the one Stede just vacated, but he’s got twice as many lines and wires, and he’s still pale as anything, an enormous mess of bandages around his middle.

He still manages a toothy grin. “Bonnet.”

“Hello, Izzy.” Stede slides into the chair beside his bed, and before he can second-guess whether it’s the right thing to do, slips his hand into Izzy’s where it’s resting on the mattress. Izzy’s fingers tense for a moment, but then they squeeze around Stede’s.

He rasps, “You made it.”

“You, too.” Stede tries for a smile, makes it somewhere close. “I’m very glad you’re here.”

Izzy shrugs. “Didn’t get to give me a shitty eulogy.”

“I’m sure I’d be excellent at eulogies. I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

He chuckles. “Go on, then. What would you have said?”

What the hell can he say about Izzy, a man who shaped Ed’s hardest days, but also showed up when he was needed, who tried to help Stede, who nearly gave everything for the two of them? “He was intense. Very intense.”

Izzy snorts, winces. “That it?”

“He was loyal,” Stede says, voice as steady as he can make it. “Very brave. More loving than he would ever have been willing to admit.”

“Twat,” Izzy rasps wetly.

“He was funny,” Stede says drily, and Izzy breathes through his nose, trying not to laugh. “And suppose you’d had to eulogise me?”

Izzy stares at him in that unsettling, direct way. “I’ve known greater men, better fighters, just… better. How he survived even that long, I cannot say.”

“I do ask myself that question every day.” Never more than this week. “I suppose it’s luck.”

“It’s because you try,” Izzy says simply. “Never met anyone who tried so hard, and you do it for the people you care about, and for the environment. Sometimes you even get it right.”

He blinks away the gathering tears. “Well, that’s—“

“Fuck off and let me rest,” Izzy says, which, Stede supposes, is the nearest thing he’ll ever hear to thanks, not that Izzy owes him any. Stede owes him plenty.

“Thank you, for everything.” He squeezes Izzy’s hand one more time, and lets him go. Stands, and says, “When you’re back on deck, we’ve got work to do. I hope we’ll see you there.”

~

They do hold a press conference in the afternoon. Stede fronts it first, denounces his father and the Badmintons. Ed watches him speak his truth with solid, determined strength, and he’s never admired him more. He’s up next, running through their environmental findings, setting out all the evidence. It’s a clear-cut case and it’s going to be easy to prosecute. They’ve left no leeway for anyone to get away with anything.

When that’s done, they’ve had all their anchor lines cut, and they’re drifting now, nowhere they have to be. Ed offers up his place as an option, Stede’s place, but Stede sets his jaw and tells him there’s only one place he wants to be.

The cabin’s dark by the time they drive all the way out there, the door still plastered over with crime scene tape. Everything’s been cleared, by which he means all the dead villains, all the evidence of all the shit that went down here, and Stede steps out of his side of the truck looking determined. Ed comes around to meet him, takes his hand.

“If bad shit happens, and we let it stay bad, then it digs in and it sticks.” Stede looks up at him. “I learned that from someone very wise, so… we’re going to make something good from all this. Poison into positivity, in the most literal way.”

They go into the cabin together, turning on every light, until the windows are spilling brightness out into the dark. Ed digs through the cupboard and comes up with sheets, pillowcases, that familiar patchwork comforter, while Stede hustles around in the kitchen heating up the food they collected on the way. They’ve been through that little town all of four times now, and Stede already knows the grocery store clerk by name, because of course he does. That’s Stede for you, and Ed loves him so much it hurts.

They’re on the second last day of the prompts, three days to catch up, which because of the months, means tomorrow’s October. First chapter of the fic is all ready to post; the rest need some work, but they’ll see how they go as the month unfolds, no pressure. There’s no day job to get back to right now, and hey. They’ve always said they wished they could just write fanfic and exist without the daily grind. Didn’t expect to get it like this, but Ed will take it, for now. They’ve earned it.

Dinner’s quiet, sitting on the same side of the table, holding hands as they feed each other bites from their forks.

After, they go into the bedroom, and kiss beside the bed for a long time, Stede swaying in Ed’s arms before he opens his eyes, blinks away the enchanted look and says, “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Ed grins. “Had a few other things to think about.”

Stede reaches over and grabs his phone, without letting Ed unhook his arms from his neck for even a minute. He clears his throat and starts to read. “Virginity. Marking. Body worship. Come-eating. Voyeurism?” He clears his throat. “And milking.” That little line builds between his brows again. “Is that… is that more lactation?”

Ed presses his forehead to Stede’s, can’t hold back the giggle. “Guess it could be, if you were into that.” He knows Stede’s not into it, and so he grinds their hips together in a slow circle. “But I think they’re talking about prostate milking.”

There’s that little gasp he likes so much. “Ah.”

“Yeah. Thought that one might be a little more up your alley.”

“It’s up something,” he says, and then he snorts at his own joke, and Ed has to kiss him about it.

“You know if we time it right, we can even knock over tomorrow’s prompts.” He nods to the phone. “Aftercare. Bathing.”

“We don’t have a bath,” Stede says. “It’s the one downside of this place, the one thing I’d change.”

“The only thing?” Stede sounds so put out about that one little detail that Ed’s grinning all over again, suddenly feeling euphoric in a way he’d feared the last week might have beaten out of him forever. “Something to think about, then. In the meantime, there’s a shower.”

“There is.” Stede spins them around until Ed’s back is to the bed, and then he pushes him gently down onto it. “So. Thoughts?”

“I have a few.”

Stede climbs over him to straddle his hips. “Neither of us is a virgin.”

Lying like this, they’ve moved into view in the wardrobe mirror, and Ed turns his head to watch them. Stede follows his gaze. “You were almost,” he says, stroking his hands up Stede’s thighs. “Kinda, when we first got here.”

“We could turn back the clock,” Stede says, like he’s connecting the same dots. “Start again, like we did in your apartment.”

“Could do.” It doesn’t take much for Ed to flip them over, shove Stede down onto the bed. “Could take your virginity all over again.”

Stede shivers a little, eyes gone dark. “Virginity is a social construct more than anything.”

Ed ducks down to kiss him. “I’ll deconstruct your socially mandated virtues any day.”

“Lovely. Please do.” He keeps on running his hand up and down Ed’s arm, as if he can’t stand to stop touching him. “And the rest?”

Oh, Ed’s got some ideas, all right. “Gonna mark you up while I fuck you, make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

“That also sounds very patriarchal—“

“I’ll patriarchy you so good you won’t be able to walk straight.”

Stede’s shaking with laughter. “I don’t know if that sounds very appealing, actually.”

“All right, all right, how about you can mark me up while I fuck you?”

Stede nods, short and sharp. “Acceptable. And?”

“And I’ll worship your body forever,” Ed says, now serious as hell as he grinds their hips together. “Whenever you’ll let me. Eat every bit of come you offer.”

“Like a kinky fucking flower god,” Stede breathes.

“Just like that.” He tweaks a nipple now, watches Stede writhe under him. “Gonna watch us in that mirror the whole time like a real voyeur, so I can see your face while I fuck you. And then one of us can milk the other for whatever’s left, I dunno, we can milk each other at the same time, whatever—“

“Let’s get started,” Stede says, already tugging Ed’s shirt from his waistband. “I want this off.”

Ed moves fast to roll over and tug the tee over his head.

Stede’s paused in what he’s doing to roll over, looking at the list of phrases, and he casts a glance back, notices Ed watching him. Clears his throat and like a theatre performer says, “You like that, huh?”

“I do. Fucking love it.” Ed shuffles closer, unbuttons Stede’s shirt, pulls it down over his shoulder and sinks his teeth lightly into the skin there. “What else is on there?”

“I only want you.” He looks up. “It’s true. Entirely true.”

“Same. And?”

“Come for me.”

“Soon. So fucking soon.” He peels the rest of Stede’s shirt off and eases him back down onto the bed, mouthing at his gorgeous tits as he goes. Struggles with his own jeans until he manages to shove them down, kick them off, and then manages to get Stede’s off, too.

They roll back together, now naked, skin sliding on skin. Stede’s cock is most of the way to hard and Ed’s not far behind him, so he picks them both up together and strokes, while he tilts Stede’s head and kisses him.

Thinks back to that very first day here, how nervous Stede was. Not sure where the boundaries between them might fall, thinking there might be some, but fuck, they’ve just merged into each other from the very beginning, haven’t they? Ed shouldn’t have been surprised. They’ve always read each other perfectly as best friends, and now they’re that and lovers, boyfriends, in love and in tune and perfectly, completely aware of how to drive each other wild.

And Stede’s already getting into that now, slotting his thigh between Ed’s legs and rocking against him with perfect pressure.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he says, and Stede frowns at him, hazy-eyed. He nips a little kiss at the corner of Stede’s mouth. “It’s your first time. We should take it slow.”

Stede squints at him, and then he bites back a smile as he remembers the plan. “I’ve waited so long, I just want to have it all at once.” He circles Ed’s nipple with his finger. “You’ll have to show me what to do.”

He goes obedient after that, in a way that makes something fizz in Ed’s stomach, so okay, yeah, maybe they’re going to switch about this from time to time, because he loves the hell out of soft dom Stede, enough to consider whether they should maybe get into a little higher level dom stuff in future. He might not mind being tied up and paddled and smacked while Stede tells him what to do with his mouth.

But Stede like this, moving when he’s told, rolling over on his belly, going up on his hands and knees just like he did the first time Ed finally, finally got to fuck him? Yeah, Ed’s into that, too.

He reaches out to stroke Stede’s hair, tugs it lovingly back. “Look at you.”

“I’m a bit of a natural slut,” Stede says in a low purr that’s so ridiculous they both end up laughing. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t pull that off.”

Ed bends down to press a kiss to his spine. “My slut.”

Stede’s eyes flutter closed, and then he opens them again. “I think you need to fuck me now.”

So he does, opening Stede up nice and slow, driving him gently, insistently up the wall with slow strokes of his fingers, using enough lube that it’s dripping out of him. Now and again he gives Stede’s cock a stroke, too, and he’s hard as hell by the time Ed kneels up and pushes inside him, never taking his eyes off their faces in that mirror.

He looks like a man in love, balls deep and panting for breath, and Stede looks exactly the same underneath him, rocking back against him impatiently, mouth hanging open as he moans.

Ed lets him do that for a bit, fucking back onto Ed’s cock, before he starts to press forward a little harder on each rock, until Stede drops his forehead to the bed, huffing out a breath with every thrust.

Ed can feel the tension running through the back of Stede’s thighs, the clutch of his body getting tighter, and he pulls out without a word, leaving Stede gasping and pushing back after him.

“Turn over,” Ed says. “Edge of the bed.”

Stede rolls over onto his back, and Ed crawls over him like a big cat, dropping down to suck a bruise into his neck, marking him up, which makes Stede bat him away before he tangles himself up in Ed’s arms and returns the favour. “My turn for that,” he says, before he concentrates on Ed’s shoulder, his pec, sucks the nipple between his teeth next, making Ed whine.

“Still mine,” he growls, and tugs Stede back and pushes him up. Rearranges them so that Ed’s sitting on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, and then he pulls Stede back down onto his lap, pressing his cock back inside as he goes.

Stede settles all the way down, until his breath is coming in sharp little gasps. “Look at you,” Ed says again, running his hands down Stede’s sides. Balanced like this on Ed’s lap, it’s the most he can see of himself in any possible position. “So fucking beautiful. So strong.” He lets his hands roam up to Stede’s chest, rakes them back down over his belly, and fists his cock as he hangs on tight to Stede’s thigh, getting the leverage he needs to fuck up into him.

He bites the junction of Stede’s neck, kisses a mark there, too, and Stede’s eyes bore into his in the mirror as they move together. “You see me fucking you? Can you see that guy? Luckiest man on the planet.”

“I am,” Stede says.

“I am,” Ed replies.

“It’s a draw,” he says a little snippily, and Ed snorts with laughter, feeling Stede’s body clench around him.

When the laughter dies down, Stede’s breath steadies, and he rocks himself onto Ed in incremental movements, suddenly serious. “If I’d known my first time could be like this…”

“Yeah?” It was, so full of love and care. “Tell me.”

“I would have moved sooner,” Stede says, and suddenly his voice is raw with grief, and Ed stills his hips. And yeah, no, that tone needs more than this. He pushes Stede up to stand on shaky legs and pulls him back down onto the bed, rolling them together face to face as he kisses tears off Stede’s cheeks. “Don’t stop,” Stede whispers, and yeah, okay, Ed can give him that.

He pushes Stede onto his back, hikes up his thighs, and pushes home again. Like this, he can wrap Stede up in a hug while he fucks him, bend down and kiss him, tangling their tongues together, catching Stede’s little sobs in his own mouth, sharing the pain.

“I’m here,” he tells Stede. “I’ve got you. We’re okay.”

Stede’s brow scrunches as he reaches down and takes himself in hand, and Ed keeps on steadily fucking him through it as he throws his head back on a gasp and comes, maybe the quietest he’s ever been about it so far, even as his belly’s streaked with spend and his muscles are quivering everywhere they’re locked around Ed.

He pulls out as soon as Stede’s stopped clenching around him, slides down and makes a show of licking up all the good stuff, long, languid strokes of his tongue over Stede’s belly, until every last bit is gone.

Stede pulls him up, tugging under his arms until Ed’s properly wrapped around him again, and Stede’s squeezing him so tightly that his breath comes short.

“It’s over,” Ed says, because it is. Both the insane run of prompts, the whole friends-with-benefits situation, this deranged fucking conspiracy, it’s… it’s done. They’re free.

“I haven’t milked you yet,” Stede whispers, and Ed buries his face against the guy’s neck and laughs until he’s almost crying himself.

“Commitment to the bit,” Ed says. “That’ll be our brand.”

Stede just presses a long, slow kiss to his forehead and murmurs, “Turn over for me. I’m not missing that one.”

It makes something shiver through Ed every time, that voice, and he scrambles to obey, rolling onto his side. Stede presses his whole body close along Ed’s back, spooning him, but he rustles around for the lube, too. Cracks it open, clicks it shut, and a second later there’s a light pressure trailing down Ed’s back, Stede’s fingers slipping between his ass cheeks to circle his hole.

It’s maybe the most romantic fingering he’s ever had. Stede’s got him wrapped up, held close, mouth warm and wet on the back of his neck, fingers pressing determinedly inside him. He’s deliberate about it, hunting for the right spot and pushing over it time and time again, with a steady rhythm that pretty fucking quickly drives Ed out of his mind. He’s floating through the sensation as Stede pulls him onto his back, climbs around to kneel between his legs.

He fixes Ed with his most determined look ever and says, “I want to see you come for me.”

Ed whimpers out loud. “Fuck.”

Stede presses back in, three fingers this time on a direct trajectory to his prostate, and he strokes Ed’s cock in tandem, like the genuine menace he is. “You’re so beautiful, Ed. The loveliest thing I’ve ever seen, quivering under me like this. Swallowing up my fingers, leaking all over me, just a wreck.”

“I am,” he moans. “Feel like a fucking virgin with you sometimes.”

Stede’s brow lifts, amused. “Wouldn’t that be something.”

Wouldn’t it? Ed barely remembers his first time, half drunk with a college roommate, but if it’d been Stede instead, he’d have been ruined for all others, forever. He’s never had this kind of delicate care, this level of stubborn, mad determination to bring him completely undone. He never wants anything else.

“Come for me, Edward,” Stede says, soft and commanding.

Ed’s always raised a brow over that whenever he reads it in fics, because in his life to date nobody’s ever dommed him right into an orgasm. But hell if it doesn’t light the spark right now, as Stede keeps on fucking into him and pulling him off at the same time, eyes burning into him as he repeats, “I said, come for me, darling.”

He does. He does, it just tears right out of him on a groan, feet scrabbling in the sheets, back arching off the bed as he spurts across his own stomach in hot splashes.

Stede crawls back over him, wraps him up tight, and they hold each other through the aftermath, just breathing together in this space they made their own.

There’s a flash from Ed’s phone, that makes his pulse jump as he snatches for it, but it’s just some spam message coming through. It does show him the time, though.

He lets out a breath. “Three minutes past midnight, October first. Happy Kinktober.”

Stede pauses, and then he laughs. “Oh god. How are we meant to celebrate that? Do we get gifts? Were we supposed to leave something out?”

Ed makes a show of swiping a finger through the come that’s cooling on his belly, sucking it off his finger. “Think we did it right, yeah.” He kisses Stede’s nose. “We’ve got a fic to post in the morning. That’s a gift to everyone.”

Stede snuggles in under his arm. “We’re really doing it, aren’t we? Collaborating?”

The thought of Stede having to even ask that, after this whole month of doing every possible thing together, after all the hours they’ve spent watching the show and writing and fucking, makes Ed laugh so hard he can hardly breathe for a minute.

When he manages to settle himself down he sighs. “Yeah, we’re really doing it.”

Stede pushes himself up to sit. “I think that means there’s one more thing to get through?”

They make it into the shower on wobbly legs, and Stede presses Ed up against the tiled wall again and drinks him in as the shower pours warmth over both of them, washing them clean like some kind of absolution. When they’ve been in there for so long that the room’s completely invisible in all the steam and the water starts to go cold, Stede reluctantly turns the taps off, but doesn’t move from where he’s all but collapsed against Ed, one hand laced up into his wet hair as Ed holds him tightly.

“Thank you,” he says, and then he whispers, “that’s it. That’s the last prompt.”

Ed snorts a laugh into his hair. “Thank you, you lunatic.” He’s welling up a little, blinking away the tears. “Thank you. It’s been an incredible month.”

Stede doesn’t move for a minute, and then he tilts his head far enough back to look Ed in the eye. “Just wait til you see what every other month of our lives has on offer.”

They dry off and go back to bed together, wrap each other up safely, and drift into a bonelessly deep sleep.

In the morning, Ed wakes to Stede sprawled all over him, the familiar birds singing out all around the cabin. He knows the light, he knows the scent of the air, and it knows him.

Last month was like nothing they’ll ever live again, and thank fuck for that.

This month? It’s going to be even better, and he’s pretty sure Stede’s right. One day after the next, on and on like that for the rest of their lives, their best is yet to come.

Chapter Text

Twelve Months Later

Stede wakes to the morning sun streaming through the cabin window, just like every day. The birds are singing noisily to each other outside, new melodies added to the whole symphony with every passing week as this place gets healthier and healthier again. Cutting through the middle of it is Ed’s voice as he sings to himself in the garden, a little off-key compared to the Johnny Flynn original, but a very earnest rendition all the same.

Will you search through the loamy earth for me?

Climb through the briar and bramble

I'll be your treasure

Stede shuts his eyes again and laughs, because he’s happy. He’s so incredibly, overwhelmingly happy that he doesn’t know where to start.

He could take it back a year, he supposes, to the day their lives began again.

The trial came around fast, given that only his father and Nigel Badminton survived out of their entire league of villains, and the evidence was comprehensive. Stede could have opted of being there, turned up only for the couple of days when he and Ed gave their testimony. But he needed, he really did, to sit there for each and every day of the two weeks, staring his father down.

Only once or twice his father had looked up and caught his eye, and they’d stared at one another across the courtroom with such mutual hatred that it had started to heat his blood to boiling all over again.

And then Ed had slid a gentle hand over his thigh, and he’d breathed out the hate, and let it go.

Guilty on all counts. Both his father and Badminton are serving sentences beyond their natural lifespans, and Stede has no regrets about that at all.

Just like Rupert, Stede finally feels free.

Will you swim through the briny sea for me?

Roll along the ocean's floor?

I'll be your treasure

In fairly short order, Jackie had offered he and Ed the opportunity to purchase this property for the peppercorn price of a few dollars, given all the environmental issues, and they had of course jumped at it. Agreed without even needing to talk it through in advance that they wanted to give this a go. Turn it into an inn of sorts, that had been Ed’s idea, or, well… sort of. This cabin is theirs alone, and the rest is not just for guests.

No, they’ve expanded their cabin enough to feature a few more comforts; an extra couple of rooms for when family come to stay, some insulation in the roof to keep it warm through all seasons. An expanded dining room and lounge and kitchen where the whole crew can gather to eat together and watch Tree Change replays and play Monopoly Deal and shout loudly and cheerfully at one another, or so it always seems to go. In the kitchen, for old times’ sakes, Stede had agreed to retain some of that orange countertop as a feature that he has to admit, has grown on him. Their bathroom now has a large tub in it, which they use quite regularly, and the bedroom has had some very necessary sound-proofing added.

Over the other side of the mountain, on the rest of the property they own, they’ve got a glamping set-up for eco-tourists and corporate volunteers who get their social credits by assisting in re-vegetation and weed control, while also funding the entire operation of the place. Fang and Auntie and Archie give tours and wildlife experiences that their rigorous insurance will hopefully never have to pay out on.

Stede eases his way out of bed and goes to the window. Ed is indeed out there in the vegetable garden, wearing a very fetching straw hat as he rakes through the strawberry plants and the pot-contained raspberry canes, foraging for breakfast. Across the clearing, nestled against the thriving forest, there are a dozen smaller ecologically-sustainable cabins set up for their rotating crew, and their students.

Because this land has also become a training facility for budding ecologists, and they’re working on the deeper science of the restoration together, in tandem with a university and a community college that both accept a practicum here as part of a higher qualification. As they work their way through helping this land grow back to its best, they’re also growing a new generation of scientists who’ll care for the environment.

Professors Bonnet and Teach.

He loves that. He loves even more that they’ve got this arrangement, where they can work from their home base, and from time to time when the spirit moves them, go on some… less legal but always, always morally satisfying adventures. Since Jackie left the EPA to join Zheng’s crew, there have been plenty of those to choose from.

Today they’ve got a crew working on the new growth in the forest, the trees that have been planted where the poisoned ones were carefully cut down and removed, and Izzy’s supervising, so Stede’s technically not needed. He’ll probably poke his nose in regardless at some point. Izzy doesn’t seem to mind when Stede pops through for the occasional chat; at least likes to tell him everything he’s doing wrong, very fondly. Stede considers it a sort of community service in itself, letting him have the occasional win.

Poison into positivity, left, right, and centre.

Stede’s trying to think of things to do on his own today because Ed mysteriously informed him last night that he has some other sort of solo plan that he won’t explain, and that has Stede very curious indeed.

He gets dressed for the day in the outfit Ed set out for him, his well-worn cargo pants and a white tee, and he throws on his old khaki vest with the Tree Change Elm of Wisdom patch for good measure before he makes his way out to the lounge. These days the repainted walls—a soothing gold, teal wallpaper across the bottom third—hold a gallery of Tree Change images and artwork, all the ones Stede rescued from the office and plenty more that have poured out since the finale aired.

Right at the centre of them all is his favourite, courtesy of one of Lucius’ most talented cartoonist friends: he and Ed leaning back to back, their own crew ranged out around them like their favourite Tree Change poster.

And oh, it’s been a new era now, settling into life after Tree Change. There’s not the urgency of the fix-it era they lived through after the first and second seasons, but over the months the interest hasn’t dropped exactly, just… steadied into the kind of long, slow happily ever after that fandoms dream of. Lots of lovely soft retirement stories, lots of imagined new adventures, plenty of canon divergence. Now the whole tree has grown, it’s easy to see all the spots where different branches might have sprouted, and the exploration of those feels limitless.

It doesn’t feel like an ending for them, not really. Just a new beginning, a new era, and no matter how long that lasts, Stede is going to be grateful for the experience for the rest of his life.

Because it really is about the memories they made at the time, and the friendships that were forged in the flames of each season. The shared love for the show brought together people with the same values and interests and quirks, and those connections have been polished into something solid and permanent and very real since. The show moved them. It showed them things about themselves; even the bits people didn’t love were like that, really. Everything held a lesson, intentional or not.

For Stede, for Ed, it couldn’t have been more relevant. Life’s full of grief, and heartbreak, and fear. The show showed him from the very first episode that it was good and right and reasonable to fight for what he wanted, to redefine himself in ways he’d never dared before.

And sure, the show might have poked him in the right direction, but he made those changes. They fought back, they chose a different path. Stede had to decide what mattered to him and what he needed, and yes, the show pointed him in the right direction, but he had to drive to get there. Fiction and reality aren’t the same, but there’s a reason he connected so hard with it, because it resonated with what mattered most to him, exactly as it did for Ed, and the crew.

He saw himself in it, and it made him want to dig deeper- to write, just as others make art, write brilliant think-pieces about it, shape the possibilities that work for each of them.

Stede had never in his life fitted in until he found this community, and knowing that he fits now—here, right beside Ed—is a gift greater than anything he could have anticipated.

Not everyone loved the ending, of course, because the audience are not a monolith. Stede feels for the people who fell out of love with the show at the end, because they’d all invested so much in it, and he knows how easy it would have been to feel like that, had things gone differently. Sometimes that final episode feels like a sliding doors moment that went the right way, but that teetered on the precipice for just long enough that they all got to stare into the abyss.

Some fell in and never came back.

It makes him all the more grateful that he did love it, that it did continue to inspire him. Their Kinktober story was a smashing success, as were several others they co-wrote afterwards, but more than that, the number of different comments they had about how people would read anything they wrote eventually clicked something into place in Stede’s brain, and thankfully, as always, Ed had been perfectly aligned with him.

So they hatched an idea for an original novel, one that expanded majestically from their original concept over nights and nights of talking about it in bed, discussing it breathlessly in the kitchen as they cooked dinner, writing side by side on the couch with legs hooked together and faces lit in the blue gleam from their respective laptops. Their story owes a lot to that first fic, but they’ve crafted their own characters and brought them to life, built a whole historical world for them, and set them sailing.

Far Horizons follows art historian Albert and professional thief Nikau, who collide over a painting when Albert gets in the way of Nikau’s plans to steal it. Unbeknownst to them, the painting is a portal to a historical world, and they fall through together, sucked into a succession of adventures through time as they find their place in the world, and fall hard for each other.

Stede loves it as much as the day they thought it up. He’s loved it through every word they’ve written together, blasting it out in only a couple of months. They sent their queries out to agents, anticipating that it was going to take a long, long time.

But they didn’t have to wait long at all. They got their first full request within a week, and then another, and in the end there was an incredibly difficult choice made, and then startling bidding war between publishers, and now, god, now they’ve got a contract, and their novel is going to be published next year.

Stede can still hardly believe this is his life. He could never have written this into a story; it would have been too far beyond the bounds of reality.

Ed comes bustling through the door a minute later with a basket full of goodies, and his face breaks into a wide grin when he sees Stede standing there. “Hey, you’re up!”

“It’s 7am,” Stede says, a bit snippily. “I don’t think I’m late exactly.”

Ed drops his basket on the kitchen counter and comes over chuckling. Loops Stede into a hug that’s surprisingly chaste, for all Stede’s thighs are still lightly aching from last night’s latest effort to fuck this man against a wall, like I deserve, Stede, as he’d said at the time.

“I’m just happy to see you,” Ed says warmly. “Always.”

Stede presses a kiss to his shoulder, being very thoroughly tangled up in Ed’s arms. “You saw me this morning. Also last night. Yesterday, and the day before—“

“Never enough,” Ed murmurs, and Stede knows that he means it. Ed pushes back, stares at him for a moment with barely disguised emotion, and then gets himself together. “I, uh. I wanted to do something special today, because it’s—“

“One year since the show ended, I know.” September 25th will be a day he remembers forever, and he’s reminded all over again how glad he is to be in love with someone who just gets it. “It’s an important milestone.”

“It is. So… I planned a picnic, kind of.”

He can’t help but raise a brow at that. “Kind of?”

“Kind of.” Ed rubs his elbows, gives him a smile that Stede might think was… nervous, on anyone else. But this is Ed. He’s about to ask what on earth is happening when Ed clears his throat and says, “Anyway, I got more of that muesli you like. I picked some berries, too. I just have to… go. Finish some things. Meet you later?”

Stede tries to push back the disappointment of being left out. “You won’t miss me too much?”

Ed laughs. “I’ll manage. Just.”

He’s already backing toward the door when Stede, bewildered, thinks to yell, “Where am I meeting you?”

But Ed’s already gone. Stede turns back to the dining room feeling utterly baffled. There’s a bowl sitting there with his muesli in it, a little jug of milk on the side, a tiny jar of wildflowers glowing orange and yellow next to it, as well as pink and blue and red. Over the last year they’ve been working steadily on increasing the native species across the meadow, and this summer was a truly lovely one for that expanding rainbow of colour.

As the sound of Ed driving away fades into the morning, Stede rinses a few berries in the kitchen and brings them over to the table, slides into his seat. Only then does he notice that his laptop is sitting out behind the bowl, screen open but sleeping. He frowns, because there’s not a chance he would have left it there himself- he’s very fastidious about putting things away in their proper places. And Ed knows him well enough not to mess with that, unless there’s a reason.

He pours the jug of milk carefully over the muesli, and manages to make himself take three considered spoonfuls before the curiosity overwhelms him and he taps the trackpad.

The screen pops immediately awake, the background a beautiful photograph of the mountain that he’d taken way back at the beginning of their days here in September last year, the cabin nestled in the bottom corner, the wildflowers glowing in the sun. He taps in his password, and there on the screen is their first shared Scrivener project.

Ed and Stede’s Excellent Adventures.

He’d started that in this very room back in September last year, when they started to work on that big Kinktober story, Stolen Chances, and now it’s full of one-shots and a couple more chaptered works and the earliest origins of their novel, before they decided that needed its own project.

But it’s open now on a new document titled… Find Me, Wherever I Roam.

He pauses with his spoon above the cereal, sure that his heart has picked up a couple of notches. Ed has… written this. Ed has set it all up for him to find it, and then he’s left, telling Stede they’re going to meet later for a picnic, on this, the anniversary of one of the most significant times of their lives.

Stede’s a reader, and a writer, and a lover of beautiful television. He knows stories and he knows tropes, and above all else, he knows Ed’s romantic heart and the magnitude of glorious imagination his mind holds.

He knows Ed, and he loves Ed, and he knows that Ed loves him.

And he knows, or he thinks he knows, exactly what Ed is doing.

His pulse continues to flutter as he scrolls down what Ed has written, now determinedly spooning in his breakfast in order to be done as soon as possible, so that he can go and find this man and ask him just what exactly he’s up to here, get the answer, or… the question, god. It feels particularly urgent all of a sudden that he needs to see Ed’s face again.

“Morning,” Rupert says, as soon as Tāne blinks awake.

“Hey,” he manages, sleepy as fuck. His lover’s propped on one elbow, smiling down over him, and Tāne’s just rubbing his eyes and trying to figure out where they are when—fuck. He remembers. He looks up at Rupert, who looks unworried. “What date is it?”

Rupert frowns a little. “Oh. It’s… well. It’s September 25.”

Tāne groans, because fuck, shit, he doesn’t know how many times he’s lived this day now; he doesn’t remember every single one clearly, only that it always starts like this, every time. Go to sleep, wake up to Rupert’s smiling, beautiful face, repeat. “What did we do yesterday?”

Rupert squints a little. “We hiked up the mountain and interrupted the destruction that mining company thought they were going to get away with, and today I think we might—“

“The mountain,” Tāne says. “We need to go back up.”

Because it all started there, and they both know it.

That’s it. That’s where it ends. Stede sits back in his chair as the air huffs out of him. Ed’s written him a time loop story, or the very start of it; one of his favourite genres, so that’s lovely. He’d like to read the rest, in fact, but there isn’t any more.

He stares at the screen for a good long time.

It all started there, and they both know it.

It all started here in this cabin for he and Ed. It nearly ended on that mountain, twice over. The episode this is talking about was the fourth one of the first season, Bait and Switch, in which Tāne and Rupert had gone up a mountain and had carefully defused a lot of dynamite that was going to destroy a cultural site. They’d moved it all to the mining equipment of the company responsible for the nefarious deed, and that had been that.

He’d barely known Ed when he watched it, and they certainly hadn’t had the start of anything there. Nor had Rupert and Tāne, not in that episode; they’d met weeks earlier beneath the Elm of Wisdom.

But… he and Ed did nearly experience the end of everything up there on their own mountain, which means that they also began again.

And maybe, maybe that’s what this is referring to.

He supposes there’s only one way to find out.

~

It takes him half an hour to drive out to the mountain—Ed’s truck is nowhere to be seen—and climb the thing. He’s been up here a few times since last year, helping Fang to monitor the steadily recovering goat population, learning all things guano from Auntie. He and Izzy and Ed had also had their own day up here where they ceremonially set a whole lot of explosives and blasted that mine shaft, filling it with rocks as a rather cathartic response to the trauma they’d experienced there, but it’s… still not his favourite place, and Ed knows that.

Poison into positivity, he reminds himself, as he huffs out a breath and strides higher up the path. It’s a glorious day, the sky arching high overhead in beautifully intense, bright blue tones, and he passes half a dozen goats on the way up, nodding to each one.

Finally, as he reaches the summit, he catches sight of the people standing up there and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Auntie, Fang, I should have expected to find you here.” He puts his hands on his knees and sucks in a few lungfuls of much-needed air. “Have you seen Ed?”

“Not today.” Fang absolutely beams at him. “You made it.”

“I did.” He registers the comment only after he answers it, and stands straight. “You’ve been expecting me?”

Auntie rolls her eyes. “What else do you think we’re doing up here? Cataloguing bat shit?”

He blinks, confused, because that… is often what Auntie is up to. “Maybe?”

Fang chuckles. “Not today, my friend. You’ve got a more important job.”

Well, there goes his stomach again, flipping and rolling. “Did Ed ask you to come up here?”

“Wouldn’t do this for any other lovestruck fools.” Auntie comes striding over, and slaps a paper against his chest. “Tell me the key nutrients in guano and you can have it.”

Perhaps he’s bumped his head again. But the only logical thing he can think to do is answer, and so he grabs for his remaining functional neurons and says, “Ah, phosphorus, nitrogen and potassium.” She grins, steps back, and he peels the paper away and holds it out. It’s… well. It’s immediately recognisable as the Palatino font they use in Scrivener, the same formatting, just printed on paper. He huffs out a laugh. “He printed fan fiction for you?”

Auntie throws up her hands. “I didn’t ask, I don’t even want to know.”

But Fang looks absolutely delighted. “Read it out loud, boss. Do the voices. I read all your stuff anyway.”

“I know, and we very much appreciate all your thoughtful comments.”

He giggles. “What, my emojis?”

“All your emojis,” Stede confirms. Nobody can tell a whole story in tiny images quite as well as Fang, who’s very partial to love hearts and little faces surrounded by love hearts and little faces with hearts in place of eyes. Also goats. Fang leaves a lot of goats; Auntie would probably leave bats.

He catches her glaring at him and shifts back to the paper. Nope, no bats, then.

“It’s a continuation of a story that Ed started in the cabin,” he says, after giving it a quick skim. “Only… not quite, no, I think it’s different, actually.” His mind is still spinning, but he focusses on the words, and slowly, slowly, it starts to make some sense. “Okay. Okay, the last one was a time loop. I think this is something else.”

The ship rocks on the waves, jostling Tāne with it, his emotions lurching to the left and to the right.

Lauren is down below in the brig, probably a double agent.

The crew are still whooping and singing up above as the party resumes, Keith’s voice soaring through Eternal Flame.

And Rupert is splayed out in front of him where they’ve fallen into bed, his shirt torn open and the glowing symbol of a tree suddenly etched into his skin.

Tāne lets his hand hover over Rupert’s heart, where the green mark pulses. Not near enough to touch, but near enough to feel the warmth of it, the pull, and it punches the breath from his lungs as he looks up into Rupert’s eyes. “Did you always have this?”

Rupert is staring down at the mark, the same kind of shocked. “No. No, that’s… that’s very new. It only appeared since…”

“Since tonight?”

“Since the flowers,” Rupert breathes. “Yes, that was… when we found the flowers. There. Something changed.”

That’s where it leaves off, and Stede looks up at Fang, who’s clapping with delight. It’s a divergence from episode six of the third season, Crossed Signals. “It reads like a soulmates thing, a soul mark story, but it’s…” He frowns. “Is it also… sex pollen? Sort of?”

“I don’t know,” Fang says. “I think it wants you to find some flowers, but.”

He stares down at the paper, at Ed’s words leading him on to the next, and finds that his smile is fighting for dominance against his immediate tears. This is… ridiculous. Nobody is this romantic. Ed cannot possibly be real, good lord, he’s got to be some sort of invention.

But then again, he supposes that many other things in their lives came true from Tree Change, from their stories; why shouldn’t this entirely absurd level of romantic effort be aimed his way?

That inner voice that sounds very much like his father wants to growl, because it’s you.

The voice he’s strengthened over the past year, through much therapy and endless patient love from Ed, sounding very much like Ed’s voice says, yeah, exactly. Because it’s you, love.

He breathes in and out for a few moments, letting his gaze wander across this healing world of theirs as he tries to contain the emotions he’s feeling. They’re big ones, battering around inside him with increasingly erratic force, but they’re good ones. He’s excited. He’s a little bit terrified, in a good way? He’s overwhelmed with love for Ed, and quite determined to find him as soon as he can.

“Flowers, you said.”

“Sounds like it,” Auntie says. She’s leaning against the rock wall, and even she looks like she’s hiding a smile. “Hurry on, then.”

He does as he’s bid, snapping them both a farewell wave as he makes his way back down from the top of the mountain, around the winding slope. Down below the wildflower meadow stretches like a glorious rainbow carpet, and he can see two small figures right in the middle of it, neither of whom are Ed-shaped.

No, as he makes his way down the slope and over there, hopping over a burbling stream, checking carefully for anything that slithers along the way, he can see that it’s Pete and Lucius waiting for him, arms looped around one another.

“Well, hello,” Lucius says as he draws near. “How’s your day been, then?”

“It’s been surprising,” Stede tells him, because he can’t think of any other way to define it. “Do you have some sort of… oracle reading for me?”

Pete’s head is shining under the sun, and Lucius gives him a significant look. Pete starts and digs inside his vest, pulls out another paper. Pulls it back a second before Stede can take it and says, “You know, these things usually need some kind of password for access.”

Stede stares at him, raking through his brain. “Oh. This again.”

“Mm,” Lucius says. “You’re supposed to give us a phrase associated with this meadow.”

He looks around them, where the orange and yellow blooms are bobbing, definitely not far from where they had their picnic moment last year. The one where Ed, stripped naked and on his knees amidst all of this beauty, had watched him with those deep, dark eyes as Stede came across his face. And Ed’s organising all of this.

“Kinky fucking flower god,” he says, and Lucius throws his head back on a groan.

Pete just whistles. “You’re good. He said you’d get it right away.”

“He didn’t have to be right,” Lucius says, sounding pained about it. “But all right, I suppose he was.”

Stede extracts the paper from Pete’s fingers, looking between the two of them as Lucius loops his arm back around Pete’s shoulders. They fit together so well, these two, only more in love since they got married in summer, and Stede’s come to look up to them, quite honestly. “Did Ed tell you what all this is for?”

Lucius stares him dead in the eyes. “I know you’re a better scientist than that.”

“I suppose one has to test one’s hypothesis—“

“By finishing the experiment!” he squawks. “God, please read the filth, go on, release us.”

“All right.” He puts his nose up a little. “It’s not filth, it’s lovely.”

This, of course, immediately turns out to be filth.

“Christ, I love you in leather,” Rupert moans, face pressed to the bathroom stall as Tāne fucks into him from behind, the glory hole forgotten now they’ve crossed this threshold. The moment he threw that door open and found Tāne standing there, even more handsome than he’d possibly imagined, staring at him with the same desperate lust, he’d known all restraint was forever gone.

“You only just met me,” Tāne says, sounding amused. “How do you know what I look like in anything else?”

“You’d look beautiful in whatever you chose,” Rupert says earnestly, even as the thick cock inside him pushes deeper, deeper, Tāne’s leather vest squeaking over the bare skin where his shirt’s rucked up, the tobacco-salt-smoke smell of him surrounding Rupert as he reaches around and strokes his cock with those leather-gloved hands.

“Maybe we should swap,” Tāne says thickly, nipping a kiss against Rupert’s neck that makes his cock jolt. “I can put on your fancy fabrics and you can wear my leathers home.”

“Yes,” he breathes, not even having to think about it. “Yes, I want that.”

“Might get wet at this rate.”

“No wetter than Maxwell’s office was once the sprinklers kicked in.”

“And that was no wetter than the field they flooded, so like for like.”

“Tāne,” Rupert whispered, edging closer to his climax all the time, “are we still pretending we’ve never met?”

And that’s that, and Lucius looks absolutely giddy about it when Stede looks up at him. “Have you ever considered doing podfics? Because actually when you got into saying the cock bits I could feel myself getting a little—“

“Lucius! No, I’ll gladly leave that to Zheng.” Her voice is stunning, ranging all the way from smoky to sweet depending on the topic, and she’s become quite a regular broadcaster of their stories lately.

“All right, fine. Keep your cocks to yourself. Obviously that’s based on Word to the Wise.” Season one, the finale, yes, it has to be. Lucius nods to the letter. “And we think the secret clue is leading us to…”

Stede doesn’t hesitate. “The wetland, obviously.”

“The wetland?” Pete says, slapping both hands to his cheeks in mock surprise. “You think?”

Stede and Lucius both stare at him.

“Okayyyy,” he says eventually. “I guess the wetland.”

“The wetland,” Lucius agrees. “Nice one, babe.”

“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” Stede says, because this feels like some sort of fever dream. Possibly like a fic in itself? Everything that’s happened over this past year has felt like that, really, as if some omnipresent deity has popped them in this landscape for her own entertainment and scattered over very liberal seasoning from a giant story salt shaker. Here a bit of friends-with-benefits, there a little only one bed, a dash of angst with a happy ending, and perhaps, honestly, the lid fell off when it came to the Kinktober prompts, and the whole lot dumped on top of them at once, just a few grains left to the side.

“You should believe it,” Lucius says softly, not trying to hide his smile. “You’re a lucky man, Stede Bonnet, but then again, so is he.”

“We’re very lucky to have such good friends, that much I know.”

“You’re quite right about that. We should discuss a raise.” He nods in the direction of the wetlands. “After.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He goes bounding off with a perfectly reasonable amount of grace to retrieve the car, and from there drives himself out to the wetland. The lakes are gleaming under the sun today, and as he pulls up beside another little collection of his friends, there’s a flurry of wings as Olivia and Karl and their collective brood—ever expanding in number—flutter about.

He slips out of the car and makes his way over to Buttons, Frenchie and Roach. “Gentlemen. Buttons, how’s the work going on the avian transmogrification plans?”

“Aye, it’s going.” Buttons is quite determined that he’s going to turn himself into a seagull; he’s even written several papers about the possibilities, which are fascinating. He’s still a man for the moment, though. “You’ve arrived at the next portal of destiny,” he intones seriously. “Are ye ready for all ye might find here?”

“No,” Stede says, trying not to sound petulant, because he’s not. Just… impatient. This morning Ed said he’d missed Stede after minutes apart, and the feeling’s quite mutual, actually, especially at the moment. Stede’s developing a particular mental image of getting hold of Ed, wherever they end up, and kissing him until he can’t even say whatever it is he’s planning on saying.

Asking. Whatever.

God. This can’t be happening. But this is happening.

Roach saves him from his spiral by saying, “All he asks in payment is the scientific name of one of the species endemic to this wetland.”

Stede closes his eyes and laughs helplessly. “He really did go for a theme, didn’t he?”

“Captain likes a theme,” Frenchie says, grinning. He tugs a gleaming white corner of paper from the inside of his vest and waggles his brows. “Risk/reward and all that.”

“All right,” Stede says, because he could do this in his sleep. “I’m going to go with… Ulva intestinalis.” Not a bird, not a fish, not a frog, but one of the algae species that Ed looks at in his water monitoring work, the cellular workers that are a vital part of this ecosystem. One of those rare links between the nearby coastal waters and this freshwater environment, rarely found in spaces like these, but there’s nothing ordinary about their wetland.

Ed’s not here to hear how clever he is, of course, but Frenchie lets out a laugh as he pulls the paper free and hands it over with a fancy bow.

“Impressive, captain. Enjoy.”

Tāne pulls Rupert down beside him, both of them peering out at the stretch of sand, the surf rolling in over it. There’s no movement at all, not until—

“There!” Rupert grabs his arm and points further down the beach, where the unmistakeable sleek form of a spotted jungle cat is prowling. “It’s real. I didn’t imagine it. God, I’m so relieved.”

“I believed you,” Tāne tells him. “Never a doubt in my mind when it comes to you.”

Rupert looks up at him with shining eyes. “Oh, Tāne, I—“

“Look out!”

The big cat bursts through the leaves, and Tāne acts on instinct, drags Rupert down and throws his body over the top. He’ll protect Rupert with his life, no question about it. But the tearing claws he’s waiting for never come, and he sits up slowly, cautiously. Finds the cat waiting there calmly, purring as it stares at them with… familiar eyes. That can’t be, can it?

“Ana?” Rupert breathes from beside him. “Is that… is that you?”

And before either of them can do anything else, the cat begins to morph, fur fading and legs unfolding into bipedal format, until yeah, that’s Ana sitting right in front of them, stark naked, and Rupert shoves some hasty palm fronds their way.

Tāne has about a hundred immediate questions, but the first one is, “How did this happen?”

Ana just grins, and then they point out at the beach. “The answer’s there.”

“All right. Yes, all right, season two, episode two, Unwritten History.” Stede takes a long, deep breath through his nose, because they are, in fact, running out of places here. He’s seen it clearly now, that Ed’s not repeating himself, and there are five environments that make up this place. He’s been to three now, the mountain, the meadow, the wetland, and that left two; therefore, eliminating the next—the beach—tells him that his eventual destination is the forest.

Those swirling emotions are thickening in his throat, and he feels almost like cutting the middle ground, bolting directly to Ed’s side. But they are the ultimate yes-and team here, and this is the ultimate yes-and situation, and he’s hardly going to cop out of that, is he? He’s not.

“The beach,” he says.

Buttons just nods sagely. “More answers await, but the journey is long.”

Christ, not too much longer, he hopes. “All right, all right.”

Roach snaps him a salute as he turns back to the car. “Almost there!”

God, he is, and he’s just getting more impatient with every bit of this journey. The drive to the beach is much shorter, and he makes it there in record time, bumping rather aggressively over the track until he reaches the edge of the sand and throws it into park. He’s out and staggering over the beach a minute later, momentarily startled to see Zheng’s boat out there, right where it was a year ago, when Ricky’s ship was sinking into the deeps behind it. But that’s been salvaged, and the oil spillage mitigated, and the bay is pristine again, the surf rolling gently against the sand.

Zheng’s standing out there in the middle, leaning into Oluwande, and Jim and Archie are there too.

As Stede makes his way toward them, Archie and Jim both launch into a hooting, hollering cheer, raising their hands as if he’s making his way onto a stage, and he shakes his head, laughing at the two of them and their manic energy, which is such a contrast to the calm of the rest of their polycule.

“Hello, Stede,” Zheng says. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise. Fancy meeting you here.” He nods to the boat. “Just stopping by?”

“Visiting some old friends,” she says, and Stede can’t help but smile at that. Zheng has become a friend over the last year, and he and Ed have enjoyed many excursions on that very boat. She waves, scrunches her nose, drops into her Valley Girl voice. “Also I was asked to drop something off.”

It’s Oluwande who flutters the paper this time, and Jim and Archie dive suddenly in front of him, doing a dramatic impersonation of—something, Stede’s not sure what, but there’s a lot of sinuous sort of dancing and hand gestures and charades going on, until Jim halts and says, “Only the man who knows the time of the high tide shall pass.”

He snorts, because he rather hopes Jim doesn’t have a clue why he’d know that so well; he’s never forgotten last year, or the tickle of the waves around his bare skin as he was locked together with Ed on this very beach. He’s also paid quite close attention to it since Ed’s been occasionally returning to dive in those caves beneath the water, and he wants to be as safe as possible about that.

He matched Jim’s drama with a very complicated hand-twirling bow and says, “Trick question. There are two, one at 1:15am, the other at 11:18am”

They let out a loud droning noise, descending from high to low, and at the end say, “Correct.”

They lower themselves slowly out of the way, and Archie does a sort of ballet leap through the middle, and then Oluwande’s standing there with the paper held out, and Stede takes it. “Thank you.” He glances at Zheng. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to read this out? Lucius thought I might steal your podficcing with my sheer talent.”

“Ha!” She pats his shoulder, hard. “Good one. No, you go ahead.”

“My Lord—” Rupert begins, but Tāne lifts a hand before he can continue.

He swaggers in closer, until those deep brown eyes are burning into Rupert’s. “I have told you a hundred times, when we are together in our bedchamber, there is no need for the formalities.”

“Of course.” He is but a commoner, and Tāne is royalty, and this arrangement is of benefit to… someone, he’s yet to really understand that. And here they are, and his husband—his husband!—is telling him to dispense with the structures that are supposed to keep them apart, and perhaps if they’re going to be so lacking in limits he can ask what he’s most burning to know. “Why me?”

There’s an instant flare of anger in Tāne’s eyes, but he turns away abruptly, and Rupert senses that perhaps it is not aimed at him. Perhaps Tāne is as much a victim of circumstance as Rupert is, absurd as that is to imagine. He does know, he does, that everything they have been through this week in the tumultuous lead-up to their sudden wedding has affected Tāne as much as it did him; many nights he’s heard his husband crying in his bath chamber, no doubt thinking about his felled knight Keith.

“I know that we would never have chanced to choose one another,” he tries. “And yet, I… I find myself glad that we were pushed together so. It is good to have a friend through all these trials. I only wish that I could know—“

Tāne whirls, his cloak flying behind him. “We cannot speak here.” But instead of walking away as he has so often, he leans in closer, and closer, near enough to take Rupert’s chin, to tilt it up. His words are a warm breeze over Rupert’s lips, spiced with rum, and his gaze is deep and dark. “Meet me at the Elm.”

Stede finishes the final line and almost shrieks at the confirmation. He’s known, of course, that it’s where he’s going, but good lord. For Ed to confirm that through an arranged marriage story? To have them meeting to talk marriage at the Elm of Wisdom in an alternate universe? They’d met there in the pilot, Make Like a Tree, but they’d gone back there at the very end, in Beyond the Canopy.

The titles are a message, too, aren’t they? He’s only just connecting it now.

Bait and Switch

Crossed Signals

Word to the Wise

Unwritten History

Beyond the Canopy

The progression of this journey, their journey, from confusion and misunderstanding to getting a clue to potential to love and everything that comes after it, a love that’s truly greater than any he’s ever known.

He’s rapidly proceeding to hyperventilation, and then Oluwande’s hand is on his shoulder. “Cap. Cap, take a breath, Jesus, man, put your head between your knees or something.”

“Was it that good?” Archie says, and oh, Stede knows Archie’s fic preferences very well, and he’s sure this one won’t tick the boxes her whump-loving heart desires. They tick his boxes, though. Every preferred trope and every ideal tag, all the way down to proposal and happy ending.

He manages to get in enough breath to stop his head spinning, and stands up very dignified. “Thank you all. I think I have a forest to visit.”

And a boyfriend to meet, and a question to answer, and he cannot, he can not believe this.

He feels like he’s floating on air the whole drive over to the forest, and when he pulls the car up at the road that traverses between there and the cabin, he climbs out with sweating hands and knees that threaten to give out any minute.

It won’t matter, of course, because Ed is going to be there to catch him, the way he always is.

And he’s sure of that as he pulls himself together and strides into the forest, right until he rounds the corner of the track to their favourite enormous elm, and spots—“Izzy?” And Christ, “Mary?”

The pair turn to face him as he walks up, feeling stunned all over again.

Izzy outright grins at him, with that full smile that he’s seen more and more this year. “Bonnet! Nice of you to join us at last.”

Mary reaches out for him as he comes up and he lets her pull him in for a long, lingering hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah,” Mary says as she lets him go. “I guess I’m a sucker for a good romance?”

He stifles a sob, because they never had that themselves, but they’ve both found it now, and it feels like some sort of absolution for all the years they struggled.

“As for me, you already know I’d do anything for him,” Izzy says and just when Stede’s expecting the but, the joke, he looks Stede right in the eyes and says, “And for you, you know that?”

What can he do except pull Izzy in and hug him about it before he can burst into tears? Izzy’s stiff at first, and then he softens into the embrace. Stede lets him go before it gets too awkward and pulls himself back, mind reeling, because this is it. The last stop.

“I expected to find Edward here,” he says.

Izzy chuckles. “You haven’t figured it out, then.”

“Oh, I think I’m well on the way?” He’s less sure about that now. “A different story for every landscape, all five of them now, a different trope.” They both stare at him. “Five stories.” And then the pieces click together, and he lets out a laugh. “Plus one?”

“Plus one,” Izzy agrees, and Mary stands aside to indicate the tree, where there’s a paper tucked into a junction between the trunk and the branch.

“One last question,” she says, and she shares a quick grin with Izzy. “What’s the species count of this forest?”

“Ah, well,” he says, because this is his zone. “The known species count is forty-three at present, but that doesn’t preclude the possibility of identifying additional ones over time.”

Izzy stands aside and waves to the tree. “On you go, then.”

He strides up to the tree and pulls the final paper out. He and Ed have taken to meeting under this elm lately, sitting back to back beneath the sheltering shade of the branches as they eat their lunch, chatting about their day or their plans or the future, all the things they want to do together. Write, travel, god, they’ve got big dreams about all sorts of improbable things.

But they’ll always, always have this place to come back to, just the way Rupert and Tāne always find their way home to the Elm, too.

The last cabaret performance of the night has wound down, and the crew are all out on the dance floor still, rocking together in the quiet murmur of conversation and laughter, all the music they need.

It’s over.

It’s only just beginning.

Tāne loops his arms around Rupert’s neck and sways with him in the tropical warmth of the night. “We did it. We made it.”

“We did, together.”

Tāne wants nothing more than to spend every day of the rest of his life with this man. He wants to wake up every single morning in his arms, to tell him how much he’s loved, to show him that. He wants to laugh with him and cry with him and fuck until their bones are creaking with age.

He wants, and he wants, and now he gets that. It’s his, and he’s the luckiest guy on the planet.

“Let’s go home,” he says.

To that little cabin they made their own, the one that’s got everything they need, because they have each other.

Rupert takes his hand and draws him out into the night, and Tāne knows that he’ll know just where to go, following the true north on the map of their lives.

Stede’s crying, as it happens. He didn’t mean to start, it’s just that… he knows, too. He knows. He looks up at Mary, who’s wiping away tears as well, and she says, “Go.”

Izzy claps him on the shoulder. “Go, you twat.”

“Thank you,” he gasps out, and he turns back to the track and begins to walk, letting his legs carry him home.

He bypasses the car this time, close enough to run. Just like he did last year, pounding his way over the tracks as he tried to make sense of everything that was happening between them. This time he’s running to Ed, and by the time the cabin comes in sight, his breath is coming short.

He slows on the approach to this, their home. Painted a deep green now, part of the environment. Solar panels gleaming on the roof, full of happy memories of all kinds. Full of love.

Ed’s in there waiting for him, he knows that. Life’s about to begin all over again.

He’s ready.

He makes his way up the stairs, onto the porch, where their comfortable furniture is more often than not occupied by their friends. Not today. There’s an enormous bouquet of flowers tied to the door, and when he eases it open, he sees that’s just the beginning. There are blooms scattered up the hallway, a riot of colour, leading in a bright trail to the bedroom door.

He goes to that, heart hammering in his throat, and pushes it open with a trembling hand. “Ed?”

But there’s no Ed. He stops short, momentarily confused once again. If Ed wasn’t waiting in the forest he was absolutely certain to be waiting here, but he’s not. The flowers lead to the bed, which is scattered with them, and in the very middle of it is one final piece of paper.

He crosses over there and picks it up. Scans it once, twice, trying to make sense of it.

It’s different to the rest, not a story.

Not exactly.

He puts a hand to his mouth, the emotion truly brimming over now as each breath gets harder to come by, and the barely-restrained tears spill over his cheeks. “Oh my god.”

“Stede?”

He turns at the sound of Ed’s voice, and there he is. In the doorway, wearing nothing fancy; his usual black jeans, black t-shirt, hair pulled back in a braid and laced with flowers. Like he wants them both to be the way they always have been here, just them, just together. And Ed is absolutely beautiful like this, god, Stede will never, ever get used to how lovely he is, never lose the catch in his breath when he sets eyes on Ed again. Ed steps over the threshold and meets Stede in the middle of the room.

He has many, many questions he could ask after this wild day, but the most pressing is the one in his hand. “What is this?”

Ed’s big, beautiful eyes are gleaming, not even looking down at it to know what he’s answering. “It’s a contract.”

“What—" Stede fights to hold onto the last shreds of his sanity. “What for?”

The studio’s logo is stamped at the top, clear as day up there, a new one: Revenge Media.

Their names are on it.

So is the title of their novel, Far Horizons.

“Revenge wants to option the book,” Ed says, and the tremor in his voice is clear. “There’s no pressure, Stede. If you don’t want that we won’t do it. But I just… fuck, the idea of it? We could be the next Tree Change, for whoever needs it. Their story, our story, it could change lives.”

For people just like Stede, who found himself in every frame of that show. For the crew that found each other. For this world that they had the guts to fight for, because they’d watched it all unfold and they knew what to do.

They’ve written this book with the same principles, the same joy, the same love.

He could phase like their characters right now, tumble through the floor, through centuries, knowing that every time, any time, anywhere, he’d find Ed. “Are you serious? Is this real?”

Ed nods, and then, and then, he sinks slowly down onto one knee onto the linoleum floor. “Stede Bartholomew Bonnet.”

Stede chokes back a sob, and Ed keeps going.

“We came to this place trying to understand ourselves and each other and every kind of filth we could imagine, and we found this.” He clears his throat, blinks rapidly for a second. “You know I have a list of the shit I love about you? Had it for three years. You’re kind. You’re brave. You’re bitchy. Fucking incredible writer, love your hair, I just…” He digs in his pocket and comes up with a box, sliding it open to reveal a ring. “I almost asked you to marry me by accident here a year ago. I’m asking on purpose now.” He holds it up. “Will you marry me, Stede? Be my co-author forever, make a show with me, save the world together?”

“Yes,” he sobs. “Yes, fuck, Ed, I would have said yes a year ago accidentally. So yes, on purpose. Yes, please stand up, your knee—“

Ed manages to peel himself up off the ground, laughing and crying at the same time, and draws Stede into the fiercest kiss yet. “I love you,” he says, pressing the words into Stede’s mouth between kisses. “I love you so fucking much, it had to be here.”

Of course it did. Their place, their spot, their history.

“This,” Stede says breathlessly, “is too romantic for fiction, you nut. What the hell.”

Ed shrugs modestly as he lifts Stede’s hand, pauses for a nod, then slides the ring over his finger. It’s a dark metal, tungsten, Ed tells him, with an embedded band of wood. “From one of the elms they had to cut down,” he adds. “Thought it’d be a nice way to honour it? Hold that memory? But if you don’t think—“

Stede cuts him off with a kiss. “I love it. I love it, I love you, I can’t believe this is real.” He’s standing in this room where they truly found each other’s hearts, he’s got a television contract scrunched in his hand, and their entire crew are out there, part of this. “You even got Zheng to get involved in this, how the hell did you do that!”

“Ah, yeah,” Ed says, tugging Stede close as he laughs. “She’s a romantic deep down. And she’s, uh. She’s got a mission to do. Oil spill up the coast, mystery source. Wanted to know if we were in—"

“We’re all in,” Stede says immediately, no hesitation. “Let’s send this contract back to the studio, tell them yes, we want our story told. And then let’s go live it.”

Ed tows him in and wraps him up, voice low in his ear. “First I want to fuck my fiancé. And then all that other stuff.”

Stede puts his head back and laughs. “Let’s see what we can add to the list.”

It's a neverending one now. And one day out there, perhaps someone will find themselves in their story, be inspired to write their own, to make art, to create something that burrows into many hearts and lingers and gives hope. It’s only human, isn’t it? To fall in love with a dream, and to make it real, and to share it.

They're all living the story, in rainbow-bright fragments of the same dreams.

He and Ed are just lucky enough to do it together.