Chapter Text
The flight to New Orleans is a long one involving an impossibly early boarding time in addition to nearly twenty hours of flying. Stede brings his favorite trashy romance novels to keep him preoccupied while Edward steals puffs of his vape in the plane bathroom. Edward sleeps the rest of the time, leaving Stede to search for sexual inspiration in his books. He doesn’t find much; he can hardly imagine half the position the author writes about. It’s not like he could talk to Edward about trying them, not when he can’t envision them. Even if Stede could, the courage it would take, the bravado –
Stede sighs as he gazes at the ocean from the window seat. All he’s wanted from the moment he met Edward was to be close to him – in any way and all the ways possible. Stede should be satisfied with what he’s already got – the kisses, the touches, no matter how fleeting – but knowing there’s something else out there for them to try has taken over all Stede’s thoughts. No matter how Stede might fumble through it, he knows that Edward will catch him without laughing, but Stede still wants to be prepared, always, so he continues with his books and tries not to grimace too hard at the descriptions.
“You look like you gotta lemon in your mouth, mate.”
Stede composes his expression before looking up at his boyfriend, who squints like a mole in the daylight. His hair is mushed against his face by his neck pillow, and he wears that look of mild irritation which means he needs to go sneak a puff in the bathroom from his vape. Edward grumbles to himself and takes off his pillow before cracking his neck in multiple spots. He says, “Whatcha reading? It must be bad.”
Stede lifts his brows. “Well, it’s about a duke.” He pauses. “And another duke.”
“Really.”
“Mm.” Stede pointedly looks back down at the pages, but he can feel Edward’s grin.
“Reading a nasty book with all these people around,” Edward whispers, grinding his elbow into Stede’s ribs. “Seems like I got a lot left to learn about you, Bonnet.”
Bravery flashes through him. “I hope you – that you look forward to it.”
Edward openly stares at the full of him. “More than anything,” he purrs, leaning in to close his lips against Stede’s cheek. He lingers before slipping away to the bathroom.
Stede keeps his eyes closed for minutes, trying to regain his breathing.
They have a brutal night on the plane. The sleep is fitful, and the air is so hot and stale that they both grow miserable with headaches and stuffy ears. A baby cries a few rows back and the elderly man in front of Stede snores like a bear.
When he and Edward look at each other, they can’t help but chuckle at their predicament. With them both turned to each other on their sides, Edward nuzzles closer and quietly says, “The last time I was on a plane was for Izzy’s destination wedding.”
“Ah, that must have been exciting.” Stede chews some gum, but his ears still pop every few minutes. “Was it somewhere dreamy? Like the Bahamas? Or Scotland?”
“Transylvania,” Edward says. “In a salt mine some ten miles from Dracula’s castle.”
Stede’s mouth pops open. “Wow! That’s – that’s incredible.” He snorts, shifting to lay on his back in his seat. “And yet the marriage still fell apart.”
“Yeah,” Edward says, moving to lie on his back as well. He interlaces his fingers over his belly with a sigh. “Guess that’s what happens when you get a twenty-three-year-old golf champion boyfriend on the side.”
Louder than Stede intended, he says, “A twenty-three-year-old what?”
Someone hushes him a few rows up and he curls into himself. Edward is all giggles as Stede hushes him. “That is ludicrous even for Iggy,” Stede says. “He doesn’t even play golf; I refuse to believe it!”
“The guy was getting his first tattoo,” Edward explains. “Our buddy Ivan, he’s got his own shop. Izzy was there that day and boom: lightning, chemistry, fireworks.”
“The hell with fireworks,” Stede hisses. Edward erupts into muffled laughter behind his hand. “That affair was never going to make it, I know these things.”
Edward turns onto his side and props his head on his hand in interest. “This part of being a seasoned wedding planner?”
“Yes, we have an intuition about these things.”
“Please,” Edward whispers, crawling his fingers over to play with Stede’s hair. “Tell your secrets.”
There isn’t much Stede wouldn’t tell him with a touch that lovely. “Well,” Stede says. “All affairs are doomed from the start. My Aunt Clara said that God sent her the man she cheated on her husband with.” He shakes his head. “It ripped her kids’ lives apart, so I don’t support affairs for that reason.”
Edward nods. “Affairs are rather pointless if you ask me.” At Stede’s questioning look, Edward purses his lips. “I’ve stayed in situations where I was unhappy because I didn’t want to be alone – dealing with Jack and Izzy, for instance – but I wouldn’t be in an unhappy relationship and cheat just to feel happy.”
Stede nods. “Would you stay in a relationship if you were scared of being alone?”
Edward snorts. “I’ve done it before. It’s definitely a pattern.”
Stede turns onto his side to take Edward’s hand and level their gazes. “You’d tell me if you were unhappy, yes?” When Edward glances away, Stede cups his face to bring their eyes back together. “There’s nothing wrong with it, Ed – with sharing these things, good or bad.”
Edward’s eyes dart his face. “But you’ve never made me feel bad.”
Stede smiles. “I’m delighted to hear that, though we’re bound to have disagreements one of these days, and that’s okay. It’s all okay.” He thumbs Edward’s cheek. “Let’s both promise that we’ll try to talk. When we’re happy, sad, confused. Whatever it may be, communication is key.”
“You sound like a motivational office poster right now,” Edward whispers. He leans in to kiss Stede’s forehead before resting them together. “I’ll talk to you, pup.”
“Thank you, cat.”
Edward chuckles. “We gotta come up with a better nickname.” He traces Stede’s face before a curious expression takes his features. “What about us?”
Half-asleep from his touches, Stede says, “Sorry?”
“You’re supposed to be an expert on the life expectancy of relationships. What kind of a chance do we have?”
More alert, Stede considers. He digs deep into the feeling that Edward creates inside him, safe, warm, and cared for. He feels special under Edward’s gaze, forgiven for every flaw. “Well,” Stede starts. “We have the same friends and live in the same area, which increases our chances substantially. We’re both independent people.”
“Boring,” Edward groans.
Stede smiles. “Our lifestyles couldn’t be more different, but we have a certain…” He hovers his hand above Edward’s to feel the tickling pressure between them. “Chemistry. We fit. We work.” He brings Edward’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss there. “I think our changes are great.”
“I think so too,” Edward says warmly.
It's pitch-black and starless outside when they arrive at Louis Armstrong International Airport. Even with all his enthusiasm, Stede is worn out from hardly any sleep, as is Edward. Stede is Edward’s last motivation to keep moving as they lose their way to baggage claim three times. They find the exit and while there isn’t much visual detail this late at night in this part of town, the weather is shocking. Stede’s never encountered such humidity; he imagines it’s because New Orleans is below sea level. The air doesn’t smell like the beach but rather alcohol souring in the heat. He hears traffic and jazz, feels it throbbing in the ground. Trees line the street and hundreds of beaded necklaces hang from the branches; beneath the trees sit cabs parked-back-to-back.
Stede squints at the side of the nearest taxi van. “’Nawlins’? What on earth does that mean?”
“I think it’s an accent thing,” Edward says. “Wanna give it a go?”
The passenger’s window is rolled down and Stede and Edward peer inside to find the driver, a middle-aged man, watching a sports replay on his phone. He welcomes them into the van and once their luggage is settled in the trunk, Edward sits in the back while Stede sits in the passenger’s seat. The man drawls, “Where y’all stayin’?”
Stede throws Edward an excited glance at the man’s accent. “The Soniat House in the French Quarter.”
“Good choice.” He puts the van in drive and heads that way without even needing his GPS. “Y’all will be right on Chartres Street. ‘S pretty quiet, but not too far from Bourbon Street – that’s where all o’ the fun happens.”
Edward asks, “That’s where you can carry around drinks in public and all that, right?”
“That’s all o’ the French Quarter,” the man says. “Y’all oughta do a walkin’ tour, ya get to keep yer drinks with ya.”
After driving for some time, Stede perks up. “What kind of walking tours are there? I was hoping to find something perhaps historical –”
“We got ghost tours, demon tours, haunted house tours, murder tours, vampire tours –”
“Oh fuck yeah,” Edward says. “I wanna go on a vampire tour.”
Stede babbles, “Murder – murder tours?”
“Yes Sir indeed,” the man says. “There ain’t a building in the French Quarter where someone ain’t been murdered, includin’ hotels.” He cackles as he pulls over. “Here’s y’alls stop~”
Stede clutches his backpack to his chest and sends the receptionist nervous looks as she checks him and Edward in. Once she’s given them directions to their room, Edward whispers, “What was that all about? You looked at her like she was a ghost!”
“She could have very well been a ghost, Ed,” Stede insists as they carry their rolling suitcases up the stairs. “A haunted-demon-vampire ghost that murders people.”
Edward sighs as they roll their luggage down a hallway of rooms. “Haunted-demon-vampire ghosts don’t exist, dearest.” They find their room and Edward slips their card key into the reader. With eyes half-lidded, he looks at Stede over his shoulder. “Only vampires exist.”
Stede’s mouth pops open, appalled, before he staggers after Edward into their room.
He’s thrown off kilter by the slanted ceiling; the roof must be right on top of them. Stede is even more caught off guard by the Victorian maximalist explosion of décor – pinks and mustards with pin-cushion furnishings. The drapes climb the tall but narrow windows and twin doors lead to a small balcony with a fence of lacy ironwork. The bed goes on for days and is rather intimidating with four posts and its own canopy. Stede and Edward’s attention falls to the bed at the same time as anticipation pulses between them.
Stede goes over his options. He could jump Edward right now, but it would surely end in disaster with one of them hitting their skulls on the headboard and bleeding out within seconds. Stede’s entire body is stiff and aching from the flight; he can’t imagine that Edward feels any more remarkably well.
His conflict must show on his face because Edward puts a hand on his back. “You should get some rest, pup,” Edward says. “Anything you need? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Want me to fetch us some ice or snacks from the vending machine?”
Preening with gratitude, Stede snuggles up against him and closes his eyes when Edward’s arms go around him. “I don’t need anything,” Stede yawns. “Just sleep.”
“Then you should sleep.” Edward kisses his hair and lets him go so Stede can prepare for bed. “I’m gonna sit on the balcony and smoke for a while.”
Hardly able to keep his eyes open, Stede unpacks, throwing his clothes this way and that to get to his pajamas and his favorite magenta robe with the bird pattern across it. It’s all over once he slips the robe on – Stede crashes onto the bed, shoves the covers off, tugs them back over himself, and falls into sweet darkness.
He isn’t sure how long he’s been asleep once he feels Edward settle on the bed. Edward just sits on the edge for a minute before carefully sliding onto the mattress. His tension is palpable. Stede croaks, “Ed? What’s wrong?”
Edward jerks at his voice. “Fuck, I was trying not to wake you.” He scoots down the bed. “I can’t get comfortable. I’m so wound up from the flight and my brain doesn’t know what time it is anymore.”
Stede turns over to look at him and Edward is picking at the skin around his nails, which is never a good sign. He’ll peel his nails bloody if left to them long enough. “It was just a lot,” Edward admits. “Socially, I mean. Being around that many people. I can’t like, relax.” He exhales slow through his nose.
Stede sits up and rubs his eyes. Edward watches with intrigue as he climbs out of bed to dig through his backpack. Stede pulls out a clear cosmetics bag and shakes it. “Think a bath would help?”
Excitement dawns on Edward’s face. “Are those bath-bombs?”
“And lavender soap and your favorite beard oil.” Stede blames his straightforwardness on how sleepy he is. “I could wash your hair if you’d like.”
Edward’s eyes go round as his lip juts out.
The bathroom includes a mirrored wall and an extravagant tub that spans the length of the wall. Two people would fit nicely, but Stede pushes that thought away to focus on Edward’s needs. Stede turns on the water and the room flushes with steam. He drops in a citrus bath-bomb and uses the lavender soap to suds things up.
Edward stands behind him, not sure what to do with himself until Stede turns around. Not even sleepiness can give him the gumption to watch Edward take his clothes off. Instead, Stede says, “I’ll close my eyes. You go ahead and get in.”
Edward looks amused and endeared all at once.
Stede keeps his eyes shut as Edward shuffles out of his clothes and sloshes into the water. He groans when he sinks chin deep and Stede opens his eyes to find Edward enraptured with steam wafting from his damp arms. Stede sits on the bath’s ledge and says, “Dip your head.”
Edward just slithers deeper into the water like a proper creature and Stede chuckles.
He works the lavender soap through Edward’s curls, taking the time to massage his scalp with the gentle pressure of nails. Edward curses and rolls his neck whenever Stede hits a particularly good spot. Once his hair is washed out, Stede combs his oiled fingers through Edward’s beard. Somehow, impossibly, he’s even more attractive with the clean-musk scent.
Edward’s arms are propped on the tub’s ledge and though Stede’s seen his tattoos plenty of times, he didn’t realize the long, winding patterns trailed to his chest and below. Curious, Stede traces one of the lines, stopping just below the waterline. Stede can’t see beneath it because of the bath-bomb, but even so, Edward is very still.
Stede pulls his hand back. “Sorry! I don’t know what I was doing.”
Edward just looks at him for a moment before reaching up with both hands to cup Stede’s face and pull him into a breathtaking kiss. Stede meets his passion, losing his fingers in Edward’s damp hair, and with a horror that will haunt him for years to come, Stede yawns right in the middle of the kiss.
Edward laughs and nuzzles Stede’s face. Edward whispers, “Can I wear your robe to bed?”
Taken aback but deeply pleased, Stede says, “Of course.” He leaves it on the counter with Edward’s pajama sweats and feels exhaustion climbing back up to take him as he nears the bed. Stede settles beneath the covers and Edward joins him a few minutes later. Stede giggles when he hears Edward ram his toe into something in the dark. Edward finds his way to the bed and gets under the covers with a deep sigh.
“Thank you, Stede,” Edward whispers.
“You’re welcome.”
Stede’s so close to slipping away when Edward says, “Hey, Stede?”
“Mmph?”
“I wanna hold you.”
Warmth spreads from head to toe. Stede scoots back into Edward’s chest and the man embraces him to pull Stede that much closer. Edward buries his nose against the back of Stede’s neck, his heat all encompassing.
Stede’s never slept better in his life.