come_sailaway | We're wide awake now, our eyes are wide open. We're running this world, we keeping it turning

I don't [he hiccups a little, wincing at the taste he's just now noticing on his tongue] I don't know. Maybe a strongly worded letter? [the hand on his elbow is lovely but the sea must be excited because he can't seem to walk in a straight line without staggering to one side or the other]

I mean they have a library on board so someone must be able to read unless it's just for show. Maybe I'll knock on their door until someone answers or complain to the staff?

Not that I've seen any...

I didn't mean the bloody complaint--

[He isn't just irritable because they're talking about the ability to read and write. Or the fact that staff is non-existent so there isn't anyone to ~~threaten~~ complain to except Friday and Ed's decided she's off limits for that kind of thing now. ]

Your bunkmate.

[Killing them won't resolve anything if they'd just come back to life afterward, so there has to be another solution if Stede's bunkmate isn't worth bunking with.]

Oh!

[he bumps into Ed lightly on accident and absently grips the back of his shirt to keep himself upright]

Gosh, I miss the leather. You should have worn it. I imagine you would have gotten all sweaty but there's something very tough about it. No one would have given me any guff if I'd worn leather when in school. Though I had this very lovely brocade coat, pale blue with white piping. [he sighs] It's a pity it got covered in horse manure.

[he flops his head on Ed's shoulder, suddenly missing that coat very terribly. He's not a particularly weepy drunk, but somewhat misty eyed and it's a bit difficult to walk and rest one's weary head on an understanding shoulder, but he manages]

I don't need the leather to be tough. [Though it helps. Like putting up a shield or donning a costume to get into a role.] Neither do you.

[He'd like to have gone back and made all those little boys regret ever picking on Stede Bonnet--put the fear of Blackbeard into them, and make them learn to respect Stede.

Ed slips an arm around Stede's middle to support him, since he's going to walk so close anyway. That's obviously the only reason.]

You were in a powdered wig and your finest foppery when you took down that French party boat.

You don't. [he snorts. then hums a little at the touch] You could look aggressive bare naked and shouting insults at the moon.

And that? That was just passive aggression. Turning people on each other in a mad frothing frenzy. If I didn't have Frenchie to help me out, I don't know where I'd be. That was fun though. We should do it again.

Maybe not here. Not yet.

[he considers a moment]

Anyway, it's not the point to look tough it's to look-- deadly but elegant. [he thinks about the sound of this] Dandy but handy? No.

Dressed to kill. [he grins] Only this time more literally.

[he lifts his head a little to smile up at him]

But you could be undressed to kill, right?

[Naked and shouting insults at the moon. Now there's a thought.

He lets Stede ramble and talk himself through whatever he's working on, as Ed chooses instead to work on making sure they don't tangle up their feet and fall over or walk into something.]

Suppose you could. Jim doesn't need to wear anything fancy to stick a knife through somebody. ...They've got a nice hat, though. Never really been a hat guy myself--it doesn't go with the hair--too much hair, really.

Point is, I think you're downplaying the massive aggression. Turn someone's fears against them and you own them, remember? You exposed them and all their flaws--and they went batshit. So what if they destroyed themselves--you lit the fuse. You were deadly, man. You were powerful.

You are powerful.

Just the right amount of hair I'd say! So lovely and thick. I bet you could run your hands through it for days. [and oh what a lucky so-and-so who could. He flushes at the compliment, mostly because it feels true]

Thank you, Ed. That means a lot. I'm glad we're co-captains. It wouldn't be the same without you, you know. I'd probably be dead but in here... [he presses a hand to his chest] it would just be a little lonelier.

[Ed walks into a chair while he's looking at Stede. He curses under his breath at the pain in his shin and has to tear his eyes away just to right their path again.]

Same, honestly.

[But he should really stop thinking about someone running their hands through his hair for days and days and days--]

I'm only saying this because you're drunk and probably won't remember, but--

Days have gotten brighter since you've been around.

[he's surprised by this and raises his head fully, feeling himself flush all over. What is he supposed to make of that kind of compliment? He wants to remember it and keep it tucked away in his heart, especially since most people seem to feel the opposite.

If only Ed had been a young woman with estate enough to attract his father's eye and then -- well they'd still sail the boundless sea but they'd do it together. Maybe Ed could still grow the beard. Some women could. There was a great aunt of his who did and he thought it had looked rather charming. Though not as charming as Ed's.

Maybe he could also be on the more flat chested and narrow hipped side with broad hands and rangey muscle and the perfect mouth. They didn't make mouths like that just anywhere.

He realizes he's stopped and hasn't done anything but stare at Ed softly for...well he doesn't know how long for but it's probably going to make things awkward]

Sorry I was imagining you with lips.

[that didn't come out right but he realizes obliquely he should say something he felt in return. Something about nights? Perhaps? No...]

You-- listen. My days are bright too. [it's not enough but it's hard to think so he pats Ed's chest with his free hand, right above the heart, and hopes that suffices]

[Ed gives him a very odd look at the lips statement. Should he be offended? Complimented? Concerned? He touched his own mouth just to reassure himself that under all that hair, and despite Stede's bizarre comment, he did in fact have lips.

Warmth blossomed through his chest at the touch.]

Right. Yeah. Uh.

[This is so not happening.]

So tell me about this bunkmate of yours?

[there is something enchanting with Ed touching his lips like that. He keeps his hand on Ed's chest because it's nice there and it's almost as if they're hugging again.

Though his mood is doused a little at the question]

He's a creeper. One of those that smile all the time and act like they know the universe but really keep pet spiders or suck bat eggs or something. I don't know. I'll have to find somewhere else to keep my things because I don't trust him not to take them. The letter of the law and all that.

The rooms are just awful too. I don't even have a bed. Just a sofa. No curtains or cushions or book nook. They call this a luxury liner. They don't know the meaning of the term. And they use too much starch in the bed linens. I should not be able to bounce a dubloon off it.

Ah, one of those. That sucks.

[A pause.]

You know...

...I’ve got a bed.

Pretty nice bed—big bed, really. Can’t do much about the room or the linens, but— It’s a bed. All to myself, too. Great big bed, pillows, blankets—you know. The works. Bed with a mattress, even.

No roommate yet to speak of.

...And a couch. Got one of those too.

[Ed is going to regret this, he’s sure of it. It still isn’t too late to offer to off Stede’s roommate, even if the man would return from the dead eventually. He could. He would. Stede would only have to say the word, and he would kill for him.

So maybe this is cowardice. Or weakness, the kind of weakness Izzy claimed was overtaking Ed with Stede around. Or maybe this is character growth. Ed’s not sure. It’s masochistic whatever it is.]

No pet spiders. And I’ll only suck eggs when you tell me to.

[Don’t make him spell it out, Stede. And don’t get the wrong idea—he’s offering to take the couch indefinitely.]

[well he doesn't have to go bragging about it, though it does seem he lucked out on the whole situation. Stede is not surprised he's managed it since Ed is effortlessly brilliant in everything.

He sighs, letting his hand fall from Ed's chest to idly link his fingers around the man's slender waist, just brushing his hip. This is nice. He could get used to this. He shouldn't. But he could.]

Lucky roommate. If you get one.

[there's something there Stede can't grasp. A thought. An idea? It's very difficult to manifest it but he chases it only to fall in the metaphorical ditch at Ed's last words-

He suddenly feels like a captive who has been tied to the mast for several hours baking in the heat, complete with crispy bits.

Ed would... Blackbeard would... And not if Stede asked him to, not that he ever would but if he-- ]

If I...told you...?

[fortunately he has decades of practice of frantically shoving thoughts like these in the hidden closet of his mind. This might make him stare off into the middle distance for a moment before he shakes his head.]

Well-- well... [the thought that he'd had before creeps shamefacedly out of the brush where it had hid and prods him on the leg. Thank God for that.

He hugs Ed just a little closer without thinking about it and slumps a bit so he can rest his chin on the man's shoulder and bat his eyes at him.]

I don't suppose you would mind if I er...nipped on your sofa? Just for tonight?

[Freudian slip before the invention of Sigmund Freud. Told. Yes, told. Because Stede hadn't asked Izzy to ask his boss to suck eggs in Hell. It was told all around. And if Ed occasionally does what Stede tells him to do--stand down when faced with aristocrats laughing in his face, for one--that is neither here nor there.

He meant it as a joke--just a response to Stede's list of crimes his roommate might commit, including the keeping of spiders. He never meant it to be so telling, but isn't that just the way of things.

Ed focuses very keenly on the walkway in front of them. Not on the press of Stede's side to his, or where his hands might be, or where Ed's hands might be, or what the lovely lunatic is saying. Just one foot in front of the other, scowling at the floor like he plans to murder it in its sleep.

The eye batting is entirely unnecessary. Ed would probably walk on hot coals for the price of a smile. He swallows hard, face forward, eyes flicking between Stede's face and the hall in front of them, and back to Stede's face.

If he feels lightheaded, it's because he's forgotten to breath.

Gruffly:] Do mind. Sofa's spoken for. [By Ed. Because Ed might be a pirate, but he's also Stede's friend. And Stede is probably Ed's Best Friend. And there is trust there. Plus, he's learned a thing or two about being a gentleman. Gentlemen take the couch when they have guests.]

You're gonna have to take the bed. [No he will not clarify that it's all yours, Stede.]

Oh. Are you expecting company?

[how disappointing. He'd wanted Ed all to himself. But it makes sense that he's popular.

Oh well. Stede straightens and has to grip a little tighter until his head stops spinning.]

In that case I'll try not to whack you in the face. I've turned into a bit of a wild sleeper.

[it's been ages since he's shared the bed with someone. It will be fine. He'll just tell himself it's Mary and nothing will happen]

Might say that.

[Of the gentleman pirate variety only, but Ed kind of likes this keeping Stede guessing thing. Not because he's petty or a little vindictive--he is, but it's not that--but because if he's going to have to feel off balance, then so should Stede.

Sharing a room is probably the worst plan ever, but he's also excited by the prospect. They don't have much room, but he's sure Stede could fill it up with things as Stede does. Maybe some drapes, a few books. He could take over the available space to fill out a wardrobe. Could be a nice little place.

Not that they're planning to stay. But if they're here a while...]

Wild, huh? Down, boy. What, am I gonna have to restrain you so we can get some sleep?

[If he keeps his opponent off balance than it makes up for his own proverbial poor footwork.]

I suppose I can live with that.

[though the more he thinks about this idea, the less he wants to. Still it is better than a creepy roommate. He stumbles a bit and has to let go with one hand to maintain some balance, and hopes they are almost there, because really any bed will do right now.

He tries not to dwell on the we part too much, reminding himself again of his fervid imagination and back firmly against the other person in bed with him. Fortunately the latter half of Ed's statement is enough to throw him for a loop]

What? I mean... you can if you want so long as you don't pin me to the bed. I've had quite enough of that. [he rubs his stomach reflexively.] Just not too tightly. I hate it when you lose circulation in the night.

[Pin him to the bed.

Fuck, don't threaten him with a good time.

Oh, with the sword. No. Nope. Definitely no plans to do any of that. No swords in bed. No pinning--no pining either. Just two blokes, two mates, sleeping in the same room, several feet apart because they're not--]

I'll be gentle. [And just...not think about it. Ever.]

Here we go-- [After counting the doors they pass--because the damn numbers on the signs don't mean anything--he stops them in front of one cabin door and manages to open it without dropping Stede. One of his finer moments, he thinks.

He turns on the light as he has learned how to do since arriving and they're greeted with the standard cabin: starboard facing even numbered room, with its large porthole window, the queen-sized bed, a couch (which folds out, but Ed has not and likely will not discover that on his own--what the hell even), the blank glass screen that is some sort of weird flat box (Ed is not sure what it is, but it's apparently a tee-vee), and a door to the bathroom. There are no other occupants. Just the two of them. Alone.

As soon as they're in, he kicks the door shut and comes alive with energy. Come Stede, look at his fancy new crib. Digs? What are the young people calling it these days.]

See? Big bed, couch. And--the best part--wait for it, you haven't even seen the best part. Come here. Look. [Both beckoning and guiding Stede over, he opens the door to the small bathroom and turns on the light. Theatrically, Ed strikes a sort of TA-DA pose.]

You don't have to piss or shit into a bucket and dump it. It goes away. All you have to do is push this thing-- [He flushes the toilet and gives Stede a very excited, pleased look. It'd be the best thing since sliced bread, but that hasn't happened yet.]

And [gesturing to the shower] if you want to get clean, you can get hot water just by turning one of those knobs. The red one. For hot, I guess. Blue's cold. No bath, but it beats having to haul it in and sponge off.

It's fucking heaven, mate.

[Gentle... that's something he'd have never thought of or associated with Blackbeard, but Ed is a different matter-- and also the same. He tries not to think about the connotations of that, the soft brush of warm hands, the smile that curls up the corner of his eyes-the warm croon in his ear. He finds himself staring at the room without seeing it, and more accurately the bed, when Ed grabs his attention]

Oh my God an ensuite! This is amazing! [he clutches the doorframe to keep himself upright and nearly cries at the sight of it. He'd known there were individual lavs that had basins you could turn water on and off with, but this!]

I could live in here. [it's small, but a little bit of luxury never went awry. Though it is only a little because it seems this is standard - but he'll take what he can get. He could use a bath too or the equivalent of that. He's still sticky from sweat and a long strange night, but he doesn't think he can stand up for that long unaided and he knows better than to ask because water coursing down that long brown body-- is not something he's going to think about right now]

I think I'll set myself down now. [and he wanders back into the room, weaving back and forth before finally managing to flop back on the bed, spread armed and staring at the ceiling. In a moment he'll get on the bed proper and find a way to crawl under the starchy blankets made of only marginally higher quality fabric than the shirt.]

I think... I am going to regret a lot of things in the morning.

[He makes a mental note to not let Stede live in the bathroom, no matter what he thinks, mainly because it would be awfully inconvenient for when Ed wants to take a long hot shower and try to not think about Stede...if Stede's in the same room.

Before shutting the door, he fills two cups with water--downs one himself--and brings the other out to put on the bedside table for Stede. What a luxury--clean drinkable water any time he wants it. Could get used to this, might even drink more water than alcohol.

He then steals a pillow off the bed, and tosses it onto the couch with a soft grunt in response to Stede's comment.]

What's to regret?

You had fun, didn't you?

[Ed eases himself down onto the couch--body tired and aching from the night of drinking and dancing--and begins to unbuckle his boots.]

My head in the morning.

[a faint smile]

But yeah...yeah I did... [and speaking of, he hauls himself upright and takes off the soft purple shirt. More like violet, he thinks, or indigo. The color of the sky in the morning or slipping into night] Thanks, Ed. For everything.

[he folds it a bit messily and hands it out]

[He makes a small, gruff noise and accepts the shirt, resisting the urge to cradle it too lovingly or put it to his face. He probably shouldn't take it to bed with him, so he places it on the table next to Stede's water. His eyes crinkle with amusement, but he tries to keep his voice sounding annoyed.]

Go to sleep, Stede.

[He strips out of Stede's shirt and places it on the table as well, haphazardly and inexpertly folded. Then loosening his leather pants, he goes over and flops back onto the sofa. It's going to be a long night.]

Good night, Ed. [he crawls his way to the head of the bed, muttering to himself] No one even turns down the blankets for you. Service has gone downhill these days.

[a sigh as he manages to tuck himself in without the help of Lucius. He drinks his water dutifully and pats the shirt and then stares up at the ceiling, feeling the very faint swell of the sea, so close but so far away.]

We should have a pillow fight.

[and he drops off to sleep with all the grace of a stone]

[Continued]

We're wide awake now, our eyes are wide open. We're running this world, we keeping it turning

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