Archive of Our Own

If there is one thing Izzy can count on, it’s the invariability of rain during his overnight watches. 

As if summoned by some divine signal, a steady drizzle had begun the moment the last lantern was lit. Steam soon wafted from the metal and glass casings of the lanterns that illuminated the Revenge, and everyone that didn’t need to be on deck hustled below.

And that was hours ago. 

Izzy has always said a slow drizzle was worse than seeing the ship through a storm. Storms were miserable and terrifying, but there wasn’t time to focus on anything but survival. A drizzle was miserable. Uncomfortable. Wet. 

Dampness slowly soaked your clothes and sunk into your bones, and without the distraction of a gale, all you had to focus on was how fucking wretched it was to stand at the helm or in the crow’s nest while fat drops of water dripped into your eyes and made your clothes feel like iron fetters. 

As it stands, Izzy’s never been happier to see Bonnet’s nutcase with the seagull. Nathaniel Buttons was a capable sailor and navigator, but his weird relationship with his bird and the fucking sea or the moon or whatever fucking force compelled him to waltz around deck with his cock out was an oddity Izzy didn’t have the patience to understand. 

This evening, the man is blessedly clothed. 

The seagull is drawn in on itself, hunkered down against Button's neck and covered by the raised collar of a coat that had seen better days. Izzy’s stomach turns when he recognizes it as the coat Bonnet wore when they raided an English barque a few months prior. 

The ship had a small crew, maybe twelve men including the captain, but Izzy’s abiding memory of that particular raid was the shard of ice that had lanced through his chest as the captured bosun slipped his restraints. One second he was kneeling and the next he was swiping at Bonnet with a wicked-looking knife he’d managed to conceal. 

He and Ed lurched forward as one, knowing neither of them would make it in time to get between Bonnet and the frenzied bosun. There was a spray of blood that had the remains of Izzy’s shriveled husk of a heart faltering in his chest as Ed shouted a wordless cry of disbelief beside him. 

The deck went still until the bosun staggered to his knees and collapsed at Stede's feet. The damnable poncey blade he’d held to Izzy’s face upon their first meeting dripped with blood. Bonnet was painted a brilliant crimson from head to hip by the blood that had sprayed from the man’s throat as Bonnet sidestepped his wild lunge and delivered his own attack. 

Bonnet’s face was a mix of anger and disgust as he reluctantly wiped his blade on his already-ruined coat and sheathed it quietly. Lucius waggled a handkerchief at him with a grimace Bonnet returned. 

“Well, that sufficiently ruined my good mood,” he’d snipped, dabbing at the blood that had already begun to stain his fair skin. He turned his glare to the bound crew, the blood a startling contrast against the muted olive coloring of his coat and sun-bleached hair. “Would anyone else like to do something foolish?” he demanded. 

The crew gave them no further trouble, and Ed made Oluwande prematurely drag Bonnet back to the Revenge. 

Izzy hadn’t realized the coat had ended up in the possession of Mr. Buttons. Seeing it again was an unpleasant reminder of a moment he was certain he’d failed his duties, both as a first mate and a lover. Bonnet vehemently denied Izzy's admission of guilt and failure—but Edward had understood. 

He had felt the same. 

Izzy blinks the rain from his eyes and forces his thoughts back to the present. “Mr. Buttons,” he acknowledges. Then, reluctantly. “Olivia.” 

Buttons nods as he moves to take the helm. It almost looks as though the bird does the same, but Izzy refuses to believe it’s anything other than the raised collar of that loathsome coat shifting against the bird’s feathers. 

Izzy’s feet feel like lead as he slogs across the drenched deck, equal parts exhaustion and remorse. He’d had every intention of heading straight to the great cabin to peel off his clothes and harangue the pair lazing in bed before he joined them. Instead, Izzy shuffles toward his seldom-used cabin to get his head on straight. 

Stepping out of the rain is a balm to his tender nerves. The irregular pattern of rain had begun to make his skin crawl from constant stimulation. He feels irritable, choking around the all-too-familiar tangle of remorse and resentment in his gut. It always made him short-tempered and eager to pick a fight—and before Bonnet came back and made them all talk about their fucking feelings, clucking at them like a mother hen, Izzy would have done just that. 

Edward was good for a fight. So was Ivan. Jim, too, especially in the wake of the Kraken. But they didn’t do that anymore, apparently, so Izzy instead sought solitude. 

Belowdecks was never silent. The wood creaked and settled, ropes groaned as they held hammocks and hanging cargo, crew members whispered as they changed shifts or played at cards, but it all fades into pleasant static in Izzy’s mind. 

He slips into his cabin and shuts to door behind him with a sigh, almost surprised to find it empty. Izzy rarely spends the night in his bunk anymore, usually falling asleep with Bonnet and Edward in that stupidly fancy bed piled with fabric that was too soft for hard men. Edward has been subtly dropping hints for Izzy to move his things to the great cabin for weeks and give up the pretense of keeping his own quarters.

Bonnet has been doing the same, minus any attempt at subtlety whatsoever. 

Izzy snorts as he begins to peel his clothes from his waterlogged form. Bonnet didn’t bother to mask his desires—or his whims or inane passing fancies or fucking anything that crossed his ridiculous, brilliant mind. The man had no shame, going so far as to pout when Izzy so much as mentioned ‘his room’ or made to pull on his clothes after they all fucked each other blind. 

He grumbled and demanded and spoke his emotions clearly and it made Izzy feel raw and vulnerable in a way that even the closest brushes with death had not. Contrary to popular belief, Izzy had never been under the delusion that he and Edward had anything remotely resembling a healthy relationship—romantic, platonic, or otherwise—but there was no other way to be. 

At least, there didn’t used to be. 

Neither Izzy nor Edward had anything to model affection or communication on. They’d never known anything else. They didn’t have the fucking words to describe what they wanted or needed or wished for, because they both wanted things they had never seen or experienced beyond their wildest imaginings. 

Edward talked a good game in front of Bonnet, but when it was just him and Izzy, he let it out. “Can’t help but feel like I am going to fuck this up,” he’d confessed. “I have no idea how people fuckin’ talk to each other and fucking cherish each other and shit. Like, what the fuck?” 

“You think I do?” Izzy snarked back. “I couldn’t fucking talk to you, Edward. You, the person I know and trust most on this shitstain of a planet. I couldn’t figure out how to tell you that I was freaked out by things changing. I fucking antagonized you into that Kraken shit on purpose. You cut off my toe! I can’t see a way this ends well.” 

At least, not for all of us. 

But it’s been months, now. Nearly a year with Bonnet and Edward captaining together again and almost nine months since Bonnet narrowed his shrewd, dark eyes as he and Edward argued over which of them should risk their neck in an attempt to get the British off their backs for good. 

Bonnet managed to trick them into a secret fucking closet under embarrassingly-obvious false pretenses, in hindsight. He locked them inside with instructions to sort out their feelings for one another before presumably flouncing away. Izzy had been content to sit inside the waste of space until Judgement Day—but Ed caved. 

Edward stumbled through an apology over severing his toe and then it was like the floodgates opened. Words poured out of Edward the same way water forced its way into a damaged hull, and Izzy felt just as drowned and breathless as if that were actually the case. 

Confessions turned into screaming turned into fighting off angry-overwhelmed tears and, eventually, to them fucking on the expensive rug inside the hidden closet, using whatever over-perfumed oil Bonnet had on his dresser—much to Bonnet’s dismay. 

Served him right. 

They all fell into bed together three months after that. Izzy joined them for a drink, as he usually did before he and Edward slunk off to Izzy’s cabin and pawed each other like beasts. Bonnet was dressed down to his shirtsleeves and trousers with that ridiculous yellow robe he favored. He was loose and smiling from the brandy they’d been sipping, Ed keeping his cup full as Bonnet recounted a fuckery he and the marooned members of the Revenge had pulled before they tracked them down. 

Ed latched onto his train of thought and launched into his own retelling of a fuckery-gone-wrong, back when he and Izzy had just taken Queen Anne—and he was getting it all fucking wrong.  

Izzy took over and tried not to be distracted by the way Edward’s hands were curled around Bonnet’s ankles as he rubbed his thumb over the stocking-wrapped bone or Bonnet’s blissed-out smile as he paid rapt attention to Izzy’s words. He tried to ignore the way Edward was making besotted eyes at Bonnet’s profile and the way his gaze bounced back and forth between them both. 

He finally lost it when Edward noticed him eyeing the open neck of Bonnet’s untucked shirt, unsuccessfully attempting to fend off dark, hungry thoughts about putting his mouth on Bonnet’s stupidly vulnerable, soft skin and leaving marks behind. The look Edward gave him was pleading and playful, his big, expressive eyes speaking volumes in the silence. 

Izzy spat out a curse and set his glass aside. Bonnet looked taken aback and froze when Izzy propelled himself from his seat in a nearby armchair in order to loom over the rumpled, unguarded fop and haul him into a kiss. 

In the next heartbeat, Edward had plastered himself against them both before dragging them to the unexpectedly spacious bunk, all the while crowing about being right until he found something better to do with his mouth. 

Izzy pauses in his ruminations once he’s finally peeled his sodden clothes from his pruned skin. The stubborn part of him wants to pull on dry smallclothes and collapse into his bunk, just to prove he can. Just to prove that he doesn’t need the gentle, soft-handed, earnest affection Bonnet gives him or the new, healthier bond he’s forged with Edward, or the peace that followed in its wake. 

The rational part of him knows he doesn’t need it—he wants it. He isn’t sure which is worse. 

Izzy never thought he’d openly crave something that could be labeled as a weakness; because it was a weakness. The sight of that coat reminded him that this… partnership. Relationship. This connection—whatever it was, whatever peace or contentment it provided, also exposed him to a greater hurt than he’d known since losing his mother. 

Frustrated by his own spineless wavering, Izzy yanks on dry clothes in sharp, precise movements. He winces as he jams the stump of his toe into his spare boots too hard, biting off a curse. He scrubs the water from his hair with more force than necessary to distract himself from the pulsing ache that has begun to pulse through his foot as his body begins to warm up after being in the rain for so long.  

Izzy forces himself from his cabin before he can talk himself into crawling under the threadbare blanket he used to swear was all he needed—then Bonnet insisted on wrapping him in silks and satins and fucking velvet and nothing has been the same since. Izzy’s been forced to admit neither his thin cotton blanket nor the crumbs of affection he’s been surviving on were enough.

And he’ll never fucking forgive Bonnet for it, either. 

He limps past the galley, more from his entire body becoming one giant ache as the chill of the rain leaves him than from his injured foot. Izzy pauses in front of one of the no-longer-secret entrances to the series of passages Bonnet built into the ship. 

This one will take Izzy straight to the great cabin, opening into another space next to the auxiliary closet and emptying out into the cabin from the opposite set of bookshelves. What he once considered a misuse of space had saved their skins on more than one occasion—including housing Bonnet’s insufferable secretary after he ended up on the wrong end of the Kraken’s attention. 

Izzy presses the baseboard switch with his foot a little harder than necessary and winces at the clumsy thud! in the relative quiet of the darkened ship's interior. The panel clicks open and Izzy lights the half-melted candle he routinely uses to illuminate his way. 

The narrow passage is blissfully quiet, even more so than his room. Whatever ridiculous sum of money Bonnet spent to commission the Revenge and its nonsensical floor plan wasn’t wasted in the construction of the passages. 

Seamless and near soundproof, they were useful in fuckeries and frittering away all manner of goods. Hoards of poncy clothes and useless baubles appeared back in the captain’s quarters far faster than they were able to raid them once Bonnet returned, slipping onto the ship and effortlessly undermining the chain of command with nothing more than and flutter of his lashes and stupid lovesick eyes. 

Izzy is certain there are, somehow, even more passages he has yet to discover—and he’s alright with that. He knows about this one, the one that leads to his lovers, and that’s more than enough to satisfy a man used to surviving on nothing but sweat and spite. 

Blowing out the candle, Izzy steps into the great cabin. The sound of the rain is muffled inside the fabric-covered space. Aside from the crackling coming from the lit fireplace, the cabin is dim and quiet, smelling strongly of smoke and lavender. 

The next thing Izzy notices is Edward. He’s still awake, propped up against the ludicrous amount of pillows Bonnet insists on. His regrowing beard looks freshly oiled and he’s smoking his long-necked pipe with a look of heavy-eyed contentment. The leg on the outside of the bedclothes is bent, foot flat on the plush mattress, his nudity barely covered by the sheet draped over his hips. 

Ed’s lips curl into a slow, leering grin around the stem of his pipe and Izzy feels heat curl in his belly at the sight. He gives Izzy a slow wink and blows a smoke ring his way, looking incredibly satisfied with himself. Izzy recognizes the sweet-smelling aroma of tobacco with just a touch of opium as the blend Edward favors after sex just as his eyes fall on Bonnet’s disheveled blond head. 

Stede is dozing against Edwards’s chest, limp form curled against his side. He’s pink and sex-mussed and spent. While Ed is barely decent, Izzy’s not surprised all he can see of Bonnet is his head and the round, freckled curved of a single shoulder sporting a fresh blush of beard burn; the man will use any excuse to drape himself in fancy fabrics, and sleep is no exception. 

The self-satisfied look on Ed’s face doesn’t falter as Izzy shuts the passage and pads across the room. He can’t look away from how the stem of the pipe presses into Ed’s plush bottom lip—and Ed fucking knows it, the bastard. 

Despite the sound of Izzy’s boots being dampened by the rugs that decorate the floor of the cabin, the sound is still enough to rouse Bonnet from his sex-drunk stupor. Dark hazel eyes crack open enough to see Izzy’s approach before fluttering shut. Bonnet makes a tired, happy sound in his throat, brows rising in delight even as he goes lax against Edward’s side once more. 

Ed offers his pipe by way of greeting and Izzy takes it gladly. “You look pretty fuckin’ smug,” he mutters around the bit of the pipe. 

Without a word, Ed digs his fingers into the sleeve of Izzy’s shirt to pull him into a kiss. Pipe momentarily forgotten, Izzy allows himself to sink into the kiss. Edward’s grip on his shirt tightens and he drags Izzy closer. He goes without resistance, basking in the warmth of Edward’s skin against his lips and chilled hands, Ed’s lips and tongue demanding in a way that tells Izzy he’s not finished for the evening. 

Bonnet makes a disgruntled noise below them. Ed snorts against his mouth and they pull apart to reveal Stede peering at them through a single bleary eye. Izzy isn’t ready to admit to being powerless in the face of Bonnet’s naked desire for his company, but Edward has no such qualms. 

“Did we disturb you, love?” he asks. His voice is thick and rasping from his pipe—and Izzy can’t decide if he wants fuck Edward’s throat or have Edward fuck his, so he just takes another hit. “Or are you just jealous you haven’t gotten your turn yet?” 

Izzy rolls his eyes; they all know the answer to that question. He ducks down to kiss the pout off Bonnet’s face, fighting to reach his lips through the tousled mess of blond curls. Stede hums against his mouth before frowning. 

“You’re chilled through, darling,” he says, hoarse and soft. His head lolls against Ed’s chest as though the string supporting it were cut. “I hated to think of you out there in this miserable weather.” 

Despite the fact he’s only recently pulled on his clothes, Izzy begins to peel them off, handing the pipe back to Ed. “You look worried sick,” he drawls. 

“I kept his mind off it,” Ed replies. 

Izzy snorts as he lines his boots up next to Edward’s. "That I believe.” 

Ed chuckles deep in his chest and dips his head to brush his lips across Stede’s brow, tightening his hold on Stede under the covers. Bonnet’s pout returns, nose wrinkling as he whinges and shifts against Ed’s side. 

Izzy doesn’t bother to conceal his stiffening prick as he undresses. Pipe in the corner of his mouth, Ed’s crooked grin warms Izzy faster than sitting in front of the fireplace. His eyes glitter with wicked mischief as Izzy peels off his smallclothes. 

“You don’t look very tired,” Ed rumbles. 

He takes the time to fold his clothes with care. “Neither do you,” Izzy says. “From the looks of it, you worked harder than I did.” 

“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” Stede remarks, eyes stubbornly closed. He lets out a breathless grunt when Ed squeezes him tightly in response, shifting against his side for a more comfortable position. 

Ed exhales a great plume of smoke as he tracks Izzy’s naked form as he nears the bed. Their fingers tangle as the pipe changes hands and want spirals higher in Izzy’s gut. “Finish it, if you want,” Ed offers. 

“You didn’t have to wait up,” he says, just like he does every time he returns to the cabin after a late watch. 

“We know,” Ed replies. “We wanted to.” 

He hesitates, pipe poised at his lips. Izzy himself very much hopes to find someone awake when he finally slinks into the cabin on late or difficult nights. It’s harder to convince himself he’s not wanted when dark eyes crinkle and light up upon seeing him peek into the room. 

Izzy takes a long drag from the pipe and holds it. He imagines the smoke filling his body, coiling and drifting down his limbs and into his head to leave him pleasantly lightheaded—then he keeps on holding it so the tender, fragile sentiment doesn’t come pouring out of him.

“It’s nice to have something to look forward to,” Stede mutters, and god-damn him. 

Bonnet was a testament to the brutality that accompanied vulnerability. The man was ruthless with his sentimentality, knowing exactly where to slide the dagger home for the most damage without even trying. 

Smoke stutters from Izzy’s lungs. “Yeah,” he rasps. It’s the closest he’ll come to an admission tonight.  

He feels heavy with the weight of his emotions. Taking one more hit from the long-necked pipe, Izzy tamps the ember out on a nearby tin dish used solely for that purpose. Ed catches the sudden change in atmosphere, holding Izzy’s gaze as he moves to tend the fire to give him a moment to collect himself. 

That soft look goes sly as Izzy finally makes for the bed, batting his lashes outrageously from where he's propped up against the mound of pillows. “We think about you when you’re not around,” Ed mocks, effectively snapping the tension. 

“Twat,” Izzy mutters affectionately. He’s painfully grateful for the out even as Stede scoffs at Edward’s cheek. He slides a knee on the bed to pull at the bundle of blankets Bonnet has become. “Quit hoggin’ the covers, you pampered toff.” 

Ed’s grin turns sharp as Izzy tugs the bedclothes off their bare bodies. Nudity is so commonplace between them now that it takes Izzy a second to comprehend what he’s seeing. Ed’s arm isn’t simply wrapped around Stede to hold him close—he’s got two fingers pressed inside him, sunk up to the second knuckle. 

Bonnet’s leg is curled towards his chest, back arched into Ed’s hold. The flickering fire highlights the oil between his legs and over Ed’s hand. Evidence of their earlier activities is visible leaking out around the fingers Ed has buried in Bonnet’s well-used hole. 

“Like I said,” Ed drawls. “We think about you when you're not around. Figured you might have a shit night on watch; thought it might be nice if you didn’t have to work for it when you came to bed.” 

Ed flexes his fingers as he speaks and Bonnet whines, toes curling. Izzy realizes that Stede’s earlier whining wasn’t just him being a spoiled twat, but because Edward had him split open on his fingers. 

Izzy prowls up the bunk and Ed’s crooked grin never wavers. “Exactly how long have you been ‘thinking of me’?” he asks. 

“Quite a generous amount of time,” Stede rasps, and Ed hums in agreement. 

Now that the jig is up Ed doesn’t bother about being subtle. He muscles Stede up his chest to get a better angle and sinks his fingers deeper. Izzy watches the slightly puffy, reddened ring of muscle clench around Ed’s fingers. The oil looks to have gone tacky, the friction and stretch making Stede gasp. 

Ed presses a soft kiss to Stede’s eyelids before he buries his face in Edward’s neck. “Be a shame not to take advantage of that generosity,” Ed remarks. 

“That’s not what I mea—”

Izzy cuts off Bonnet’s rant about semantics by putting a hand on either side of his ass and roughly spreading him open around Ed’s fingers. “We know what you meant,” he says. 

Ed hitches Stede’s leg up and over his bent knee, rubbing soothing patterns into the back of his thigh as he holds his leg in place. Now Izzy can see Edward is still hard and leaking against his stomach as Ed's attention darts back and forth from Izzy’s hungry stare and his fingers disappearing into Stede. 

He presses soft kisses to Bonnet’s crown and temple when he whimpers. Izzy doesn’t know whether he’s sore or oversensitized or both, but it drives him mad with the urge to hear more. 

Fondness bangs around in Izzy’s chest and softens the tone of his voice. “You spoiled little tart,” Izzy drawls. “Can’t even be bothered to open your eyes. Bet you’ve been lounging on Ed like some kind of pampered princeling while he did all the work.” 

“No need to be jealous, Israel,” Stede shoots back. He finally deigns to crack his eyes open, giving Izzy a smartass look that makes his hackles rise and his dick twitch. “I’ll let you have a turn; all you have to do is ask.” 

Ed chuckles at Izzy’s scowl, scissoring his fingers. Bonnet hisses softly, tilting his face up for whatever sweet nonsense Ed mouths against his downturned lips. Ed feels around the bed, upending pillows and blankets as he searches for the bottle of oil. 

Smirking, Izzy leans forward and licks around Ed’s fingers. Stede gasps, and Izzy can see Ed’s prick twitch in response to the feel of Izzy’s tongue around his callused fingers. Ed has loudly declared his fondness for Bonnet and Izzy’s ‘smart mouths’ when they were doing something other than snipe at one another. 

Bonnet had simply replied that he and Izzy were skilled multitaskers—they could do both. 

Stede shifts restlessly at their combined touches. He arches into the slide of Izzy’s tongue and then away from the scratch of his beard against his tender skin, then back into Edward’s fingers once more. Izzy follows Bonnet forward as he attempts to shift away from the coarse prickle of his beard and spies the bottle Ed had been searching for. he snags the bottle as Stede directs a lazy swat at Izzy’s head that barely connects as his fingers curl around the cool, emerald-colored glass.

Pulling back, Izzy sinks his teeth into the flesh where thigh meets ass in retaliation. Bonnet yelps, indignant. “Israel .”  

Edward snorts in amusement. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” 

“Not when sitting is already going to be a chore,” Stede gripes, scowling. 

Izzy pulls the stopper out of the bottle with his teeth before spitting it into his palm. “Please,” he says. “We all know you won’t be getting out of bed tomorrow for anything less than us being boarded.”   

“Now I won’t,” Stede grumbles. 

Ed slips his fingers from Stede’s hole and offers his upturned palm to Izzy. He pours oil onto Ed’s fingers and palm and watches as he rubs them together. Izzy grabs Ed’s hand and presses his thumb and pinky back into his fist before guiding the bunch of his three fingers against Bonnet’s rim. 

A surprised cry leaves Bonnet’s throat as Ed slides his fingers in without preamble. Izzy can see Ed’s other hand tighten its grip on the thigh he has hitched over his leg as Stede jerks in response and attempts to shut his legs. 

“Okay?” Ed asks, fingers still. 

Stede groans, burrowing into the skin under Ed’s jaw. “ Fuck,” he breathes. 

Izzy lets himself smooth a hand over the swell of Bonnet’s ass. “Alright?” 

Swallowing thickly, Stede nods. “Yes,” he gasps. “Yeah. Just didn’t expect it. Keep going.” 

Given the go-ahead, Ed hums in acknowledgment and continues the slow rhythm. Izzy reaches past Bonnet’s shoulder to put the bottle out of harm’s way and smears wet kisses across Stede’s shoulders as he does so. He sets his palm to the back of Ed’s hand a wraps his fingers around his fist, letting Ed move their hands together.

Soon, Bonnet is rocking into the stretch, whining when Ed spreads and twists his fingers. Ed strains toward Izzy until he gets with the program and swoops down to tangle their tongues together. 

They trade toothy, wet kisses as Bonnet whines his pleasure into Ed’s shoulder. Izzy can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes open—not to spite Izzy (probably) but to watch the show in front of him. He lets out a particularly sharp cry when Ed curls his fingers to press against his prostate and Izzy’s fingers twitch with the urge to press in alongside Edward’s. 

And fuck, if that wasn’t a thought. The idea has Izzy gripping Ed’s hand tighter, urging him to thrust harder into the clench of Stede’s hole. Bonnet groans in response, tossing his head back, and Izzy pulls from Ed with a wet smack! to lick into Stede’s mouth. 

Stede mewls against his lips, barely coordinated enough to kiss back as Izzy moves Ed’s hand faster and faster. Izzy trails sharp, nipping kisses down Stede’s throat as Ed grinds down against Izzy’s knee with a muffled curse. 

He abandons his hold on Stede’s thigh to yank Izzy up by his hair. “Tell me,” Ed demands. His dark eyes burn a hole in Izzy’s chest. “What are thinking about?” 

Izzy looks to Bonnet and then their joined hands and back to Ed. He can see the realization dawning on Ed’s face just as he lets his head fall against the pillow behind him with a groan. 

He adjusts his hand to get a better grip on Ed’s. “Thinking about Bonnet spread open on both our fingers.” Izzy pants. Stede’s eyes slam open, looking both aroused and overwhelmed by the idea. 

“Fuck, Iz,” Ed says, fingers twitching in his grasp. He eyes Stede hungrily as he writhes into their touch and ruts against Ed’s side. Edward waits to catch Stede’s drunken gaze before he speaks. “Would you like that, sweetheart? Hmm?” 

Stede shivers between them. He nods desperately, dry throat clicking as he attempts to swallow the cries that want to break free. “Yes, ” he gasps. “God, fuck, yes .” 

Izzy snatches the bottle of oil and hauls himself to his knees. As soon as his fingers are slick, Ed is pulling his hand free. He sets his palm on the back of Ed’s hand as he did before and they adjust their fingers together.

Izzy’s pointer finger slides into Stede alongside Ed’s pointer and middle fingers. The stretch is more or less the same as three of Ed's fingers but he shudders like he’s being split in two. Ed keeps up the relentless pace but sets his hand on Stede’s thigh to hike it back into place, raising his leg and setting his foot on the bed to hold it there. 

Ed holds Izzy’s eyes and leans down to murmur into Stede’s ear. “Can you take another, sweetheart?” he croons, smirking at Izzy’s fervent swearing in response. “Do you want four of our fingers?” 

Whimpering, Stede looks at them with wet eyes. Izzy ducks forward to nibble at the flushed skin of his earlobe. “What d’you think, Bonnet?” he rasps. 

“Please,” he begs. “Fuck, please—but, uhhn, slow.” 

“Of course,” Ed breathes, practically shaking. 

His dark eyes are wide and fathomless, boring into Stede’s face. Izzy can’t tell if it’s from excitement or the magnetic, grasping obsession he and Bonnet have with one another flaring up. 

Regardless, Izzy doesn’t feel an ounce of jealousy—not anymore. He doesn’t understand whatever weirdness Stede and Edward exude when they’re too caught in one another’s orbit, but it’s the same way Bonnet doesn’t understand how he and Edward clash against one another like warring titans—and the same way Stede and Izzy maintain the fiction of disdaining one another with sharp words but soft eyes.

Stede makes a pained sound when he rocks back onto nothing as Ed massages his over-slick hand against Izzy’s, better-coating his fingers in oil. Laying his hand against Edward’s once more, their fingers curl around one another until only their index and middle fingers are extended. 

Ed circles Bonnet’s hole, circling the twitching muscle without going further. Despite fucking each as often as they’re able, this is relatively new territory—territory Izzy would very much like to revisit, possibly with more fingers, and maybe both his and Edward’s dick. 

Izzy may tease Stede for being a pathetic layabout in bed, but it was nothing but an empty insult. The concept of someone—two someones, fuck—wanting Izzy was already hard enough to handle. The fact that Izzy felt the desire to lavish attention on Stede fuckin’ Bonnet? That Izzy got off on the decadent picture Stede painted as he sprawled across the bunk while getting railed into oblivion? The heat that coiled in his gut as Bonnet panted like he was fighting for his life while he did nothing more strenuous than clutch at the sheets and whimper? 

He wasn’t ready to examine that too closely yet. 

“It’s nice,” Ed had once said, slow and hesitant. “It’s—I like that he just likes to be with me, you know? He’s happy to just be there, and that makes it exciting. It’s not about sleeping with Blackbeard or fuckin on the bowsprit on a dare; he just wants me. Just Ed .” 

Izzy had grunted noncommittally and then jerked himself raw at the thought of Bonnet draped across his narrow bunk, legs over Izzy’s shoulders and gold curls spilling across his plain sheets while Izzy fucked him until he was bowlegged. 

Now, Bonnet is curled into Ed’s chest and grasping blindly behind himself for Izzy as he spreads wide around four fingers. “ Izzy,” he begs. 

He doesn’t bother putting up the pretense of apathy towards Stede’s desires, immediately crowding forward to plaster himself against his freckled back as best he can. They all groan as Stede arches into their fingers until they’re buried as deep as they can go at such an awkward angle. 

Izzy’s erection is pressed between the round swell of Stede’s ass and his own stomach. He lets himself rock against the freckled skin, groaning at the thought of rutting against the bitemark he made only moments earlier. 

With his mouth pressed to the nape of Bonnet’s neck, Izzy can smell the lingering hints of the jasmine-scented cleanser he uses. Affection tangles with arousal and has him curling the fingers he and Ed have pressed inside him until they glide over Stede’s prostate. 

“Fuck,” Bonnet gasps, jerking in their hold. 

“Still good?” Ed checks. 

Stede nods frantically and rocks into their fingers as much as his limited leverage will allow. He paws at any part of Izzy he can reach in an effort to get Izzy to plaster himself along his back as he buries his aquiline nose in Edward’s neck. “You greedy harlot,” Izzy teases. “Nothing’s ever enough, is it?” 

Ed lets out a pleased rumble. “Fuckin’ love it.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Israel,” Bonnet retorts, breathless, echoing Ed’s earlier teasing. 

Izzy doesn’t bother to hide his grin, letting Stede feel his lips pull back in a smile as he presses his face to the nape of his neck. Ed continues to brush their fingers against the little bundle of nerves inside Bonnet until he’s mewling and rutting against Ed’s hip. 

Ed speaks as if he can hear Izzy’s train of thought. “You’re making such a mess on me,” he drawls in Stede's curls. “I can feel how close you are.” 

“I’ve had your fingers inside me for goodness knows how long,” Stede pants. “And now Izzy’s as well.” 

His breath hitches as their fingers continue to stroke his prostate in irregular intervals and Izzy moves to take hold of his own prick and angle it down, sweeping past his and Ed’s fingers and against Bonnet’s balls. 

Ed spits a curse at the feeling of Izzy’s dick skating so close to where they’re making Bonnet yield to the width of their combined fingers. Ed’s eyes catch Izzy's over Stede’s mess of blond hair and Izzy can’t help but close the distance between them, their teeth catching on one another’s lips as they fuck Bonnet on their fingers. 

All three of them moan when Ed teases his ring finger against Stede’s stretched rim. Stede tightens around their fingers as Izzy’s hips stutter, his brain going white with the thought of getting Bonnet loose enough to take both his and Edward’s pricks together at once. 

He and Ed pant into one another’s mouths, eyes locked, both on the same page—but that’s an adventure for another time. As it is, Ed’s arm holding Stede’s raised leg in place flexes powerfully with the effort to hold Stede in place. 

“Too much?” Ed asks, his finger flirting along Stede’s sensitive rim with a feather-light touch. 

Stede’s throat clicks as he swallows. “Fuck, I’m so close,” he hisses. 

Izzy nips Bonnet’s shoulder and relishes the sharp gasps he gets in return. “Not what he asked,” he rasps. “Gonna be too much for you?” 

“Only if you plan on fucking me anytime in the next century—ah! ” 

Edward presses into Stede deep and hard, Bonnet’s moan cutting off whatever else he had been about to snipe about. “Whatdya say, Iz?” Ed prompts. “You wanna rub off on that gorgeous ass of his? Or do you wanna fuck him?” 

“Be a shame to let all this go to waste,” Izzy replies, corkscrewing their fingers as much as he can at such an angle. 

Bonnet whimpers again, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of pleasure. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” 

“I’ll fuck you anyway,” Izzy says, slipping his fingers free. 

Grumbling, Bonnet tries to swat at him again in response. Izzy’s prepared this time and snatches his arm before he can connect, holding his forearm behind his back as Ed splays his fingers wide one last time before withdrawing. 

Lust zings through Izzy’s chest at the sight of Bonnet slightly gaping after being so stretched around their fingers. His nipples tighten to the point of pain as arousal shoots down to pool low in his belly.

Propped up on a handful of pillows, Ed yanks Bonnet further on top of him. He muscles Stede about until he’s straddling Ed’s hips, knees spread wide so they’re pressed belly to belly as Stede nuzzles into Ed’s pecs. Ed pours oil on his fingers and gestures for Izzy to shuffle closer as Stede fidgets restlessly. 

Ed spreads the slick substance over the aching length of him, teasing at the swollen crown of Izzy’s cockhead as he curls his fingers around his prick. He guides Izzy forward to tease at Bonnet’s hole, not yet letting him sink into the inviting heat. 

Stede moans at the feeling of Izzy’s prick against his rim and arches his back eagerly as Ed brushes his lips over Bonnet’s brow, eyes half-hooded and locked on Izzy. “Ready for Izzy's cock?” he asks. 

Shaking and eager, Stede arches into the way Ed teases at his hole with the head of Izzy’s dick. “Please.” 

Ed buries his crooked grin in Bonnet’s gold curls and releases his hold around Izzy’s prick. “You heard ‘im, Iz.” 

Izzy sets his hands to the meat of Stede’s ass in lieu of replying, spreading him open with his thumbs just to hear him whinge against Ed’s chest. Bonnet tilts his head to the side, nose wrinkled in annoyance, no doubt with some snippy remark on his lips. Izzy shifts forward to let the swollen head of his cock nudge into Bonnet’s hole, effectively cutting off whatever disparaging comment Stede meant to say. 

Bonnet attempts to smother the guttural noise of pleasure he makes in response to Izzy spreading him around the fat head of his dick. The arm he had curled underneath him shoots out to grapple for purchase as Izzy hauls him back onto his prick in one swift, smooth flex of his hips. 

“Israel!” Stede gasps, the arm Izzy has held behind Stede’s back tensing under his fingers. 

Izzy groans at the silken heat of Stede’s body, the soft skin of his ass pressed against the bones of Izzy’s hips. Ed curses in response to Stede’s teeth on his chest, rutting his prick against the softness of Stede’s stomach. 

Stede yanks at the sheets with his free hand as he shifts against Izzy in a bid to make him move. “You spoiled little trollop,” he grits. “You can wait for it.” 

“Need a moment so you don’t embarrass yourself?” Stede shoots back. 

Ed laughs. “How are you two still griping at each other?” 

“I’ll stop gri—” 

Izzy rocks forward, driving his prick deep enough to steal the smart response from Stede’s sharp tongue. Stede angles his hips into the movement eagerly as Izzy leans forward to grab Stede’s other arm. He hauls it behind Stede’s back to rest against the arm already there and Stede collapses against Ed’s chest without support. 

Groaning, Ed reaches around Stede’s back to gently wrap tattooed fingers around Stede’s forearms alongside Izzy, hugging Stede to his chest in the process. Ed laces the fingers of one hand with Izzy’s as they both grip Stede’s impressive forearms to keep them behind his back. 

“Fuck, Izzy, ” Stede breathes, his back an enticing arch below him. 

Izzy wants to trail sharp, stinging kisses down the freckled ladder of his spine, maybe bring his hand down on sharply on his pale cheeks until they go pink and red from the impact of his hand. Instead, he settles for trailing the hand not clutching Ed’s down each vertebra. He curls his fingers around Stede’s hip, taking a moment to give the flesh and bone he finds there a possessive squeeze before manhandling him until his legs are spread as wide as they can go around Ed’s middle, angling Bonnet's ass upward for Izzy to plow into. 

Hips tilted at a sharp angle, Stede whines with effort and arousal until Ed tuts at him. “Poor thing. Is Izzy being rough on you?” he asks, like he’s not actively assisting Izzy in restraining Stede’s arms behind his back. 

Stede just groans in return, fingers clenching and unclenching behind his back until Izzy and Ed tangle their fingers with his. Ed catches Izzy’s eyes over Stede’s head and cocks a brow at him. His smirk makes Izzy’s blood simmer and fear-tinged arousal catch in his throat as he thinks of all the other times Ed has worn that grin as his fingers closed around Izzy’s throat.

“Well?” Ed demands, voice like silver and shadows. 

Izzy can feel Stede shiver and clench around his prick in response to Ed’s tone and wonders what he’s imagining when he hears Ed’s voice go hard and cool like the steel of a blade; he resolves to pry it out of him the next time he has Stede bent over the rough sheets of his bunk. For now, he just hauls his hips back and relishes the slap! of his pelvis colliding with the meat of Stede’s ass as he hammers into him. 

Stede cries out at the unexpected onslaught. His needy wriggling comes to a halt as his mouth hangs open in response to Izzy’s pace, more hard than fast, until he collapses against Ed’s chest with a throaty whine. Ed bends his head to murmur something Izzy can’t hear into Stede’s hair as they both work to keep hold of Stede’s flexing arms. 

Fighting to keep his eyes open against the tide of pleasure rising in his gut, Izzy focuses on keeping the roll of his hips measured and even. He shifts the angle of his thrusts until Stede goes rigid with pleasure underneath him. 

“There is it,” Ed rumbles. 

Stede shudders and attempts to rock back onto Izzy’s dick faster. “Fuck, Izzy, right there,” he whimpers. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue to play dumb, to ask ‘There what?’, pointedly avoiding the sensitive bundle of nerves until Stede either begs or demands Izzy make him come. Instead, Izzy’s eyes catch on the sight of his cock disappearing into Stede’s slick hole, the indents his fingers are making on his modest love handles, the trickle of sweat working its way down Stede’s spine, and he’s gone. 

“Needy little strumpet,” Izzy grits, indulging in a singular, solid slap to Stede’s ass. “So much for ‘not having to work for it’, eh?” 

Ed laughs. “What is it that Frenchie says? ‘It’s the thought that counts’?” 

“I think that I’m going to kick you both onto the floor after you fall asleep,” Stede gripes. 

Izzy lets out a throaty chuckle at Bonnet’s threat, but Ed pouts—they both know it’s not an empty threat. 

Instead of replying, Izzy continues rocking into Stede’s eager body in firm, powerful strokes. Stede does his best to muffle his delighted cries as Izzy skates over his prostate with each thrust of his hips and Izzy savagely bites his lips to prevent more affectionate barbs from escaping his lips. 

Meanwhile, Edward heaps a litany of filthy praise onto Bonnet as he impatiently rocks back onto his prick. Izzy can see Stede’s toes curl, whimpering as he quickly climbs back toward the peak he had been hovering at before Izzy had him on his dick. 

Izzy isn’t far behind, but he’s determined to draw it out as long as he can. Watching Ed’s tattooed arms flex as they hold Stede’s forearms behind his back and seeing the sinew and muscle work beneath his skin has desire dancing through his chest to his solar plexus. Seeing Bonnet’s fair, freckled skin flush and darken with love marks and the faint imprint of bruises makes warmth drip down his spine.

Izzy’s head swims as though Stede has been plying him with his stupid, sweet brandy at the way Bonnet sighs his name. “Israel,” he breathes, back still arched accommodatingly so that Izzy can find his pleasure despite the fact that he must be aching something awful after so long in such a position. 

“You gotta give us more than that, sweetheart,” Ed purrs. His hips slowly roll upward against Stede’s belly. “What do you need, hmm?” 

Bonnet shakes his head fitfully. “Just—fuck—don’t stop!” 

“Didn’t fuckin’ intend to,” Izzy growls, teeth clenched at the feeling of Stede’s hole fluttering around him erratically. 

Ed frees a hand to trail it down Stede’s back in a touch that is meant to tease as much as it is meant to soothe until he lets his fingers slide down to rub against Stede’s rim. His fingers spread to frame Izzy’s cock as he fucks into Stede’s hole. 

The sound Bonnet makes has Izzy and Ed shuddering. Izzy nearly spills at the feeling of Ed’s callused fingers whispering against the length of his shaft as his pace falters. Stede whines in response to his hips stilling and even Izzy’s breath catches at the barest hint of pressure of Ed’s finger where Stede is already stretched around his prick. 

Stede is gasping a reply before the question can be asked. “Yes!” he begs. “Fuck, Ed, please.” 

“Yeah?” Ed rumbles. His hand tightens around Izzy’s against Stede’s forearms until Izzy meets his gaze. 

“Fuck,” Izzy spits, cursing under his breath. He closes his eyes as pleasure rakes across his back and belly like claws. Forcing his eyes open, Izzy greedily takes in the black lacquer tipping each of Ed’s fingers in anticipation of watching Bonnet squirm as he attempted to take even more. 

Ed suddenly releases Stede’s forearms and pushes up from his decadent sprawl across the pillows at the head of the bed. He nudges at Izzy with his shin until he reluctantly slips from the heat of Bonnet’s body and shuffles backward. 

Edward tosses Stede onto his back with an eager noise. Bonnet's face is a hectic blush of color, sweaty curls going every which way, and Izzy can’t resist falling on him like a starving man at a feast. Bonnet’s lips are puffy and slightly uncoordinated against his own and Stede sighs into Izzy’s mouth like some kind of maid from a fairy tale. 

Izzy pulls away as he feels the sinuous slide of Ed alongside them. He yanks Izzy into a sharp, toothy kiss before bending to nuzzle against Stede’s temple as he stretches out next to Stede. Ed's hand travels up Stede’s stomach to his shoulders, touching firmly enough not to tickle, until he gathers Bonnet’s wrists into one hand and presses them into the mattress just above the mess of Stede’s curls. 

“I wanna see,” he rasps, looming over Stede as he strokes over his overheated skin with the hand not holding his wrists above his head. 

Stede just shivers in response, eyes glazed as he works to catch his breath. His legs fall apart as he bites his lip, looking back and forth between Ed and Izzy in a pleasurable daze. Ed points to a pillow that had been kicked to the foot of the bed and Izzy knows Ed means for him to get it underneath Stede’s hips. 

Bonnet lifts his hips easily when Izzy brushes his knuckles against Stede’s flank, more accommodating in bed than he ever is outside the locked door of his cabin—and occasionally Izzy’s bunk. 

Ed presses the vial of oil into his hand. The glass is cool against his heated skin, and Izzy wastes no time drizzling more oil onto his straining prick. He groans as he hastily fucks his fist to spread the oil and shuffles forward on his knees until the head of his dick prods against the slick pucker of muscle. 

Hole gaping slightly, Stede whines and presses into the blunt pressure of Izzy’s ruddy cockhead. Bonnet’s own prick is fat and leaking against his belly and Ed presses the length of his dick against Stede’s thigh. 

“Go on, Iz,” Ed says, sounding like a suggestion and an order all at once. Long fingers curl under Stede’s knee and hold him open in the most intoxicating invitation Izzy has received in a long while. 

Izzy sinks into Bonnet’s hole with a hoarse groan. Even though he was inside him just moments earlier, the heat and pressure still takes Izzy by the throat. Stede moans with him, splaying his legs as wide as his flexibility will allow. 

Ed’s hand snakes across Stede’s inner thigh, kneading the delicious, supple skin while Stede takes everything Izzy has to give him. Izzy looks to Edward for direction, not trusting himself to set the pace. He knows he wants too hard, too fast, too much, and Bonnet is just as bad. 

Fuck, Edward is just as bad. The three of them are a perfect storm of greed and need and desire and then tangled up with lust for good measure, but one of them always managed to be the ‘voice of reason’—or as reasonable as any of them could ever be, and right now that role was falling to Edward. 

“Slow,” Ed instructs, reaching to take the oil Izzy forgot he was holding. 

Izzy does as he’s bid, slowly rolling his hips into the clutch of Stede’s strung-out body. Bonnet whines, sore and aching after being worked open for so long that the slow pace was likely torturous. 

“I know,” Ed croons. He dusts kisses over Stede’s furrowed brow before he gets his knees underneath him. 

Ed pulls back after giving a soft kiss to the tip of Stede’s nose. He presses Bonnet’s wrists into the bedding with a meaningful look before righting himself and angling his body so he could thrust against the meat of Stede’s raised thigh. “Keep ‘em there,” Ed says, nodding in satisfaction when Stede grabbed fistfuls of the bedclothes to keep himself still. 

His slicked fingers slip between Bonnet’s cheeks to tease at the furled skin of his hole as it spasmed around Izzy’s cock. “Yeah?” he asks. 

Stede nods desperately. “Please,” he breathes. “Wanna feel you and Izzy inside me. Wanna feel you together.” 

Izzy groans at the sweet words. He loved to hear Stede Bonnet beg. And even worse, he loved to give him what he wanted. 

And so did Edward. 

Gasping at the added pressure, Izzy watches as Ed gingerly nudges the tip of his index finger against Stede’s hole, urging him to yield to both Izzy and himself. Izzy knows in that moment that it’s only a matter of time before he and Ed both have their pricks buried in the tight heat slowly driving him mad. 

He isn’t sure how he’s meant to bear it. 

Bonnet might be the one moaning and whining and blinking away overwhelmed tears underneath them, he might be the one speared on their pricks and fingers and surrendering to the impossible stretch as they forced his hole wide—but Izzy didn’t know how he was going to cope with the amount of trust and vulnerability and naked desire Bonnet seemed to offer like it was nothing. 

Izzy is pulled from his musing as Ed’s fingers curl and cup his balls, his index finger completely buried inside Stede’s body alongside Izzy’s dick. Bonnet’s breath punches out of him like he’s been hit and Izzy can feel Ed’s entire body shaking with restrained desire. 

“Is it good?” Ed asks, voice carving its way from his throat. 

Stede groans. His legs curl toward his chest, toes pointed, as he stares up at the ceiling of the bunk. “Ed,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, yes. It’s so good. Fuck, don’t stop. Please, Izzy, move.” 

Izzy obliges without needing to be asked again. He doesn’t know how long he’s been off duty but he feels as though he has been on the precipice of release for ages. He curses under his breath, pace gone to shit at the mindblowing tightness of Stede around him paired with the feeling of Ed’s finger pressed into his throbbing length. 

Ed moans aloud at the sight of Stede stretched around the two of them. He rubs his prick against the soft-sturdy muscle of Stede’s thigh rhythmically, following Izzy’s pace as Stede comes undone beneath them. 

Bonnet’s cries have taken a desperate, tearful turn as he fucks back against Ed and Izzy. His wordless pleading has Izzy’s pleasure ratcheting higher until it has him by the throat. He jumps as Ed leans forward and begins to trial biting kisses to any bit of Izzy he can reach, both of their eyes locked on where Stede stretches to take them both. 

“Another,” Izzy bites out, not recognizing the sound of his own voice or the fact that he decided to speak at all. 

Stede mewls at his barked demand. “Yes,” he begs. “Fuck, Ed, please. Please please please—” 

“Fuck,” Ed says. His fingers dig into the meat of Stede’s thighs as he writhes against the sheets, Bonnet’s prick bouncing in response to his fitful movements as he struggles towards release. “Just one. No more until we talk about this while we’re not fucking.” 

Izzy groans at the feeling of Ed’s middle finger flirting along the edge of Stede’s hole. Bonnet’s hands stretch above his head to grab onto anything they can get as Izzy can feel him begin to yield to the insistent press of Ed’s second finger. 

They curl around a pillow he then drags down to his face to muffle the sound of his shout as Ed pops past the first resistant ring of muscle until both fingers are buried to the knuckle alongside Izzy’s cock. 

“Arms up,” Ed demands. “I want to see your face. Fuck, I need to see your face.” 

Stede throws his hands up, knocking the pillow away in the process. His eyes are wide, dark hazel shimmering with unshed tears. On his face is a complicated mixture of pleasure and pain, overwhelmed by the stretch and ache and throbbing ecstasy of being split open. 

“Too much?” Izzy gasps.

Stede is shaking his head before he even finishes speaking. “No, nononono,” he chants. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop! ” 

Izzy doesn’t. Finesse gone, Izzy pistons into Stede without a care for Ed keeping time with him. If anything, the mismatched pace seems to send Stede careening over the edge and into his own orgasm. 

He spills between them messily, a choked-off scream on Stede's lips as he spurts across his chest and belly. The vice grip around Izzy’s prick tightens and spurs him to chase his own release.

Ed suddenly releases his hold on Stede’s leg to wrap his fingers around Izzy’s throat, and that’s all it takes. Izzy’s eyes roll upward as his hips stutter and crash as he fills Stede from the inside. He can feel his thrusts getting sloppy and wet from his own come and slicking Edward’s fingers even more. He can barely hear Stede whimper above the obscene squelch and the ringing in his own ears as fire races up and down his spine and through his limbs. 

He gasps as Ed lets go of his throat, swaying unsteadily for a few heartbeats until Ed urges him to lay down next to Stede. Bonnet gasps as he pulls out, Ed’s fingers still inside him as Izzy collapses next to him on the mattress. 

Izzy presses his mouth to Stede’s shoulder, tossing his arm over his heaving chest. Bonnet tips his jaw up, giving him an unimpeded view of the long, unprotected line of his own throat that has Izzy feeling faint.

Knees bent toward his chest, Stede shakes as Ed continues to thrust against his thigh while his fingers are still sunk deep into Bonnet’s hole. “Ed,” he says, voice soft and shaking. He spreads his legs further in invitation and Ed groans as though he’s in pain. 

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks, already slithering into position between Bonnet's legs. 

Stede nods. His eyes are big and pleading and so dangerously open that Izzy finds himself swallowing around a lump in his throat. “You needy thing,” he husks. “If I knew you were such a greedy little slag underneath all those fancy clothes, I never would have even bothered with the navy.” 

Laughing in half-hysterical delight, Bonnet quivers in his arms. He bites his lip and whines in disappointment when Ed pulls his fingers free, only for his mouth to fall open in a silent scream as Ed sheaths himself in one even motion. 

“Woulda saved us all a lot of time, that,” Ed grunts, smirking crookedly down at them both. He hefts Stede’s strong calves over his shoulders. “Don’t know what you woulda done instead though.” 

Izzy brings his hand to gently rest over the vulnerable column of Stede’s throat—not squeezing, just holding, feeling Bonnet’s pulse race and muscles twitch under his salt-worn palms. “Dragged you into that stupid extra closet for starters,” he says. 

Stede gasps as Ed skates across his sweet spot. “Edward!” His hands fly up to wrap around Izzy’s forearm for support. 

Ed leans his head against the shapely lines of Stede’s calf as he leisurely ruts into his oversensitive hole. “That’s a pretty picture to imagine,” Ed pants. 

“Drag that one-armed couch in there too,” Izzy continues. “Get you out of all those foppish clothes and truss you up. Bend you over the arm of the couch ass-up for Edward to find.” 

“And what, take over the Revenge while I was preoccupied ?” Ed asks. His eyes sharpen as he wraps his hands around Stede’s thighs and delivers short, sharp thrusts to Bonnet’s prostate. 

Stede’s grip tightens on Izzy’s arm, and Izzy’s fingers itch with the urge to apply pressure to Bonnet’s throat. He holds off—barely—making a note to ask while they were not otherwise occupied. 

“Coulda written it off as a gift,” Izzy continues. “If only I knew what you were craving was a shiny, frilly, spoiled little pet.” Izzy feels a pang of guilt at his sharp words and rubs his thumb against Bonnet’s Adam’s apple to soften the sting. He shifts closer to kiss the tears that began to spill down Stede’s cheeks as pleasure goes sharp from being fucked, forcing the rest of the words from his lips. “Might have realized I quite liked your fancy little tart a lot sooner, too. Maybe even soon enough to have all ten toes.” 

Ed groans, slipping Stede’s legs off his shoulders in order to bully his way closer, one arm propping himself up near Bonnet’s head while the other cupped the back of Izzy’s neck.

“Fuck, Iz, you romantic bastard,” he gasps, pulling Izzy into a punishing kiss. 

Stede’s voice breaks as he cries out at the change in angle, hips tiled just right for Ed to hit deep enough to send a pleasant ache into his gut with each rough slap of his hips. “If I—ah—If I knew what was waiting for me—oh, fuck, Ed,” he gasps, struggling to compile his thoughts in the face of such an onslaught of pleasure. “If I knew what was waiting for me, I might have let you.” 

“Begged me,” Izzy corrects, panting against Ed’s lips. 

Laughing breathlessly, Ed nuzzles under Stede’s chin and worries the thin skin at the hinge of Bonnet’s jaw. “If I knew I could make you two get along enough to have this,” he says, emphasizing his meaning with a pointed jab of his prick. “I’d woulda fucked you in Izzy’s bunk and sent him in with orders not to come back out until neither of you could walk straight.” 

“D-don’t let the current circumstances s-stop you,” Stede replies, clutching at any bit of Ed or Izzy he could get his hands on as he squirms on Ed’s prick. He blinks away more tears, wrapping his legs around Ed’s waist when he makes to pull out at Stede’s apparent distress. “Don’t stop.” 

Ed clicks his tongue and presses a soft, lingering kiss just below his ear. “So close,” he assures, voice strained as he pounds into Stede’s willing body. 

He sweeps his thumb under Stede’s eye before cupping his face tenderly, holding Stede’s gaze as he hiccuped around a sob when Ed’s thrusts began to go harsh and unsteady. 

Izzy relents to the thing in his chest calling for him to be soft, to enjoy softness, and leans into to brush reverent, closed-mouth kisses to the back of Ed’s hand. He holds Stede’s eyes as he does so, gently stroking his fingers along his neck until his hazel eyes clamp shut as his body is wracked by a sudden spike of pleasure as he comes again. 

Stede leaks sluggishly against his stomach, barely anything left to give after coming more times than any man past his prime had any right to in one single evening. Ed growls deep in his chest, face screwing up as his hips go still as he spills into Stede’s sore hole. 

Ed pulls out clumsily and tips to the side, swiping his fingers through the mess between Stede’s legs. Izzy can’t help but crane his neck to see where Stede’s hole has been rubbed red from the friction of their pricks, slick with oil and their combined spend that will leave the sheets an unsalvagable mess until the next wash day. 

Before Izzy can think to stumble out of bed and over to the wash basin, Ed is rolling Stede onto his belly, heedless of the mess Bonnet made of his stomach, and slinking down to tease at his sore rim with his tongue. 

Izzy molds himself along Stede’s side and sets his teeth to the rounded curve of his shoulder. He nips at the freckled skin as his hand travels down Stede’s back until Izzy can get a palmful of his ass and further spread him for Ed’s tongue. 

Stede presses his face into the bed and whines, clawing at the sheets as he stubbornly kept himself still for Ed made him shake with his mouth. Ed’s coarse beard rubs against the oversensitized skin between his legs, his beard intensifying the burn Izzy had begun earlier when he was being playfully antagonistic. 

He gently brushes his fingers through Edward’s hair when Stede’s breath begins to hitch and rattle about in his chest. Ed doesn’t stop, unable to hear the overstimulated sounds Stede attempts to smother against the sheets over the sound of his own labored breathing and the lewd, wet sounds of his mouth as he literally made Bonnet cry on his tongue. 

Izzy gently strokes across Edward’s shoulder to get his attention and Ed finally pauses long enough to hear the soft, muffled hiccups as Stede fights off genuine tears. Ed gives Stede’s sore rim a final lick before wiping his face against the sheets in a move he wouldn’t have dared try if Bonnet were anything remotely close to coherent—not if he wanted to hear the end of it before dawn.

Ed hauls himself up to bracket Bonnet’s other side with a harumph. He reaches across Stede’s back to wrap his fingers around Izzy’s wrist, the pair of them effectively caging Bonnet in the circle of their arms. The three of them gasp into the quiet of the cabin as they attempt to catch their breath. Izzy idly traces circles against Stede’s back and notes that the sound of the rain has dulled to barely more than a trickle. 

A brief glance out the darkened window along the side of the bed shows his senses to be accurate. Izzy allows his focus to be diverted back to where Bonnet still has his face hidden in the sheets. 

“Alright, love?” Ed asks, all the heat and steel gone from his voice, leaving only rumbling, velvet softness in its wake. 

Stede nods into the bedding before pushing himself onto his elbows. He wrinkles his nose in distaste at the sensation of the sheets sticking to his skin thanks to the mess he made of his stomach. Izzy watches Bonnet swallow whatever prissy remark he wants to make about the state of the bedding. 

“I’m good,” he says. His voice is hoarse, cracking in the middle. “Very good. That…that was…Well.” 

Ed grins, loose and happy as he flops onto his back. “Yeah, it was.” 

“I didn’t even say what it was!” 

Izzy tweaks the skin of his backside just to make him scoff. “Don’t need to,” Izzy replies. 

He pokes and prods at Stede until he and Ed are able to drag the soiled sheets from the bed amid Bonnet’s grumbling, swiping at the worst of the mess despite his protests. Izzy slid from the bed to tend to the fire one last time and watches as Bonnet arranges the pillows to his liking while Ed busied himself with the wash basin. 

Stede flops onto his belly in the center of the bed and breathes deeply. Even from across the room, Izzy can see the lethargy settle in his limbs as he absently kicks his feet while watching him and Edward with tired eyes. 

Izzy hisses out a surprised breath at the sudden cool, damp sensation of a cloth splattering against his shoulder. Ed snickers at Izzy’s baleful glare as he carries another cloth over to the bed to gently take care of Bonnet. 

“Fuckin’ prick,” Izzy mutters, shaking his head when Ed gives him a cheeky wink. He gives himself a perfunctory wipe down and tosses the cloth across the room to join the small pile of clothes and linens that awaited laundering. 

Ed climbs over Stede and settles between him and the windows, stretching out his long legs with a sigh as he raises his arms and rests his head on his linked fingers. The dying firelight kisses his brown skin and makes him look like an aging god in repose. 

That same firelight makes Bonnet’s curls glow gold, skin dusted generously with freckles and love marks. The dreamy look in Stede’s eyes effortlessly casts him in the role of a god’s paramour, some pampered, pretty thing that other mortals envied and schemed against until they met some tragic end. 

Izzy had almost been that tragic end—and yet, somehow, they made it here. 

If Stede had told a similar tale to the crew during their evening storytelling sessions, Izzy would have derided it as impossible romantic drivel. The mortal whose machinations against the god and his lover failed would never be allowed to live, let alone be accepted, invited, to join them. 

“You’re thinking quite a lot for a man that made me cry with his cock,” Bonnet croaks. His lopsided smile is only half visible from where he’s collapsed against the bed. 

Izzy rolls his eyes to deflect from Stede’s shrewd observation. “That was Ed, not me.” 

“You started it, mate,” Ed points out. 

“You started it before I even got here,” Izzy counters. 

Ed grins, turning on his side to drape himself over Stede’s back like a long-limbed blanket. “Yeah, but you made—” 

“I don’t care whoever started it,” Stede interrupts, tone prissy and imperious. “Less overthinking, more cuddling.” 

Izzy slides onto the bed and positions himself on his side as he and Ed sandwich Stede between them. He brings an arm up to drape over Bonnet’s back, curling close enough that his breath tickles his nose as he breathes against Stede’s shoulder. He didn’t drape himself over Bonnet in the way Edward did—like a lazy housecat—but from the contented hum, the effect was the same. 

“No complaints about my coddled demands?” Bonnet asks softly. 

Huffing a silent laugh, the corner of Izzy’s lip quirks up in a weak grin. “Thought you said no more thinking?” 

“I said ‘overthinking ’, but I’ll take it.” 

Ed laughs, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Don’t,” Izzy warns. 

Stede pouts, forcing his eyes back open. “Don’t what?” 

“Not you,” Izzy clarifies, nodding toward Edward’s wicked grin. “Him .” 

Burying his nose in the curls at the back of Stede’s neck, Ed chuckles. “Greedy thing,” he coos, undeterred. “Thought you’d have taken enough after all we gave you earlier.” 

Scoffing, Stede sends an uncoordinated kick at Ed’s shins. “Terrible,” he scolds. 

“Less talking, more sleeping,” Izzy deadpans. “Bonnet’s already going to complain his ass hurts; we don’t need to add lack of sleep.” 

“I think I’ve rather earned that right,” Stede sniffs. “Besides, you had the midnight watch—surely you’ve earned the right to a bit of a lie in.” 

Ed snorts inelegantly. “And what about me?” 

“You have very important captain things to get up to, darling,” Stede sighs. “Very important.” 

“Is that so?” Ed drawls. 

Stede nods, eyes closed and impervious to the exaggerated scowl on Ed’s face. “Yes,” he says. “Like ordering a warm bath be drawn for me before you check our heading. And fetching Izzy’s razor from his bunk—you know how particular he is about his morning shave.” 

Izzu swallows thickly, fingers twitching against Stede’s back as he catches Ed’s half-lidded stare over Bonnet’s shoulder. “Might be a good idea to just leave it here,” Izzy says. 

Bonnet’s eye cracks open as Ed’s wandering hand goes still. Izzy presses his lips together under their combined scrutiny, skin beginning to prickle at the thought of whatever declaration was about to occur. 

Instead, Bonnet just clears his throat and wiggles marginally closer. “Lovely,” he rasps, voice thick and wobbling. “That’s just lovely. Isn’t it, Ed?” 

“Yeah,” Ed whispers, holding Izzy’s eyes and settling against Stede’s shoulder once more. His hand curls around Izzy’s against Stede’s back. “Yeah, mate. That’s great.”