Archive of Our Own

Ed didn’t see a lot of blank canvases in his shop. Not a lot of newbies looked at Blackbeard’s - Piercing and Tattoos with its spiderweb cracked windows, dingy lighting, and Izzy, Fang or Ivan by the counter and thought ‘yes, that looks like a reputable and safe place to have needles repeatedly drilled into my skin to mark me permanently ’, he guessed. And honestly he preferred it that way. He had his regulars and he had a few word of mouth recommendations, or people who found his stuff on instagram. No need for tattoo virgins. On the rare times he did get one it was usually a guy out with a group of mates, all a little drunk, the other guys having got to him with peer pressure or a dumb dare. They’d come in off the street, no appointment, and make a nuisance of themselves. The guy’d get some dumb bullshit tattoo, something cringey he’d wake up regretting more often than not. If he was lucky the guy would spend all of two minutes looking at the generic flash art that Izzy insisted they kept up on the walls.

So when his new client had walked in, rubbing his hands together and bouncing on the balls of his feet, Ed thought the guy must be lost. Or off his rocker. Perhaps both.

“Oh hello!” the man said, flashing Ed a smile so bright he almost took a step back. “Are you the proprietor?”

“Uh-”

“I’m Stede, I have an appointment for 2 o’clock?”

Ed looked at this diary. Scrawled in at 2pm was Steve? Bonnet - full thigh piece. He raised an eyebrow.

“Ya, that’ll be with me.” He said, still eyeing his client, trying to make sense of the man who wore a suit - a honest to god shitting suit - into his shitty tattoo parlour.

Stede beamed again, and he held out a hand. Ed stared for just a moment before he reached out and shook it.

“It’s lovely to meet you, uh…”

“Ed.”

“Ed,” he smiled again. God he had a nice smile.

Ed shook himself a little, dropping Stede’s hand and reaching for his ipad.

“You got some great timing, mate. I just got finished prepping my station for you, uh, you wanted a boat right? I got a drawing for you here somewhere.” He swiped through his drawing app looking for the right file. He’d had a great bit of fun on it. Honestly it was refreshing to draw something different for once. Not all skulls and guns and daggers and shit.

“A ship,” Stede said, “yes.”

“Gotcha!” Ed exclaimed as he found it at last. He presented the ipad to Stede. “How’s that? I can make a few changes if ya want. And we can fiddle with the size when I print the stencil.”

Stede stared at the image. He said nothing, his eyes locked on the screen. Ed suddenly wondered if he’d gone too far. All the man had asked for was some old sailing ship, and he’d sent a few references of a model ship he had. It had a unicorn figurehead and a pirate flag he recognised from his own shop logo as the pirate Blackbeard’s. But he’d said he trusted Ed’s ‘artistic intuition’ and wanted to give him ‘creative freedom’. Ed had jumped at the opportunity.

He’d drawn the ship sailing on choppy seas, flag flying high and backdropped with a vibrant sunrise in a watercolour of pink and orange with purple fluffy clouds. He didn’t often get to use his watercolour technique, unless he was making blood splatters, and he liked the softer colours. The design was framed with a ring of rope with a butterfly perching at the bottom of the ring, splashes of waves and water colour streaks breaking the bounds of the frame sporadically. Ed loved it, almost tempted to break his rule of black and grey tattoos to get it himself. Trouble was Iz wouldn’t come within ten feet of doing that design for him.

Stede still hadn’t said anything.

Oh fuck, he hated it. He hated it and he was one of those guys that didn’t know how to say he hated it and Ed was gonna give this guy a huge fucking tattoo he’d hate. 

“Uhh, like I said, we can change it if you don't like it, mate. I could just do the ship, or change up the sky. Mess around with the colours, I don’t mind, honestly. It’s your body, man, you gotta like it.”

“I love it.” Stede said, and he looked up at Ed with eyes that sparkled. “It’s- the ship, the sky, it’s perfect. Only-”

Ed tilted his head, “Only..?”

“The butterfly, it's beautiful but it doesn't mean anything to me. Could we- would it be terribly inconvenient to change it?”

He looked so concerned that Ed almost laughed. But he smothered it down and took back the iPad.

“Not a drama, mate, come back and I'll sketch it out. What did you want to change it to?” He nodded for Stede to follow him to his station. 

Ed sat in his well worn swivel stool and rummaged in a drawer for his stylus. Stede trailed behind him, looking curiously at the plastic halloween skulls and antique poison bottles framed in shadow boxes that decorated his section of wall. Ed cleared the layer that held the butterfly in his drawing, and looked up expectantly.

“Dryocampa Rubicunda.” Stede said with a smile, “They’re my favourite moth.”

“Uhh, and how do I spell that?”

Stede flushed, “try searching for candied melon silk moth.”

Ed typed it into safari, and photos of an adorable little beautiful pink and yellow moth loaded across his page. He smiled, finding a decent reference picture to draw out. It took a few minutes of fiddling but when he presented the image to Stede the man actually clapped in excitement.

“That’s fab!” Stede enthused, and Ed felt his cheeks warm under his beard.

“Right then, how big were you thinking? Like six, seven inches?” 

Stede snorted.

“Aw, man, not like that.” Ed said, but he couldn’t help but smirk as rolled his eyes. Poor Stede was struggling to backtrack on the clear train of his thoughts and was doing an appalling job of it, so Ed cut him some slack and added, “We can fetch a ruler out later if you want to check, but let's get this started first, aye?” 

“Seven inches sounds lovely.” Stede said, face flushed red.

Ed winked.

Jesus. Was he flirting with his client? Fuck, he hadn’t done that for donkey’s ears. Hadn’t flirted with much of anybody really, just called one of a select list of old mates who’d happily help him out if he needed a bit of company and that was that these days. More often than not he made do with his fist, an internet connection, and maybe a vibrator if he was feeling needy. Stede was still as pink as the bloody moth Ed’d just drawn, but he didn’t drop his gaze. 

“Wouldn’t be the same with six,” he quipped.

It was Ed’s turn to blush. Thank fuck for his beard. 

He sent the image off to the printer, one for reference and one for the stencil. Muttering to Stede quickly about going to the back room Ed disappeared, leaving the gorgeous blonde behind him. Oh. He was fucking screwed. Izzy sat in the back room eating aggressively (how he managed to twirl leftover spaghetti onto a fork aggressively Ed wasn’t sure, but it was an art Izzy had long since mastered), and watching the shitty tv they had mounted to the wall. He looked up when Ed walked in.

“What dickhead’s getting that namby pamby shit?” Izzy asked, gesturing with his fork to the printed drawing waiting for Ed in the printer.

Ed shrugged, trying not to let the dig at his art get to him. “New client,” he said.

Izzy scoffed.

“Gotta keep the money flowing in Iz, regular’s will run outta blank space one o’these days.”

He grabbed the stencil and the reference and walked away, not waiting for whatever dickheaded reply Izzy would come out with. Stede was still standing by his station, leaning forward to frown slightly at a display figure Ed had of the protagonist of one of his favourite video games.

“Bayonetta.”

Stede jumped a little, then turned to look at him. “Pardon me?”

“The chick, that’s Bayonetta. She’s from this badass video game series.”

“She appears to have quite the spinal issue,” Stede commented, looking again at the figure and tilting his head to get a better look at her in her high kick position.

“I’d say she has more an internal organ issue myself,” laughed Ed. “But here, look, how’s this for size, mate?”

He held up the stencil and Stede’s eyes lit up once more. He beamed, and Ed made himself look away.

“Right then,” he said, trying to shake the butterflies from his tummy -or perhaps they were moths- “Let’s get this on you and have a look in the mirror before we commit to it, yeah?”

He busied himself by grabbing a fresh razor and a marker, but when he looked up. Stede hadn’t moved.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

“Uh, do I just…” Stede gestured to his leg, his brow furrowed slightly as he considered the limb like he’d never taken notice of it before.

“Drop trou man,” Ed said casually, suddenly feeling Very Not Casual At All.

“Right.”

Ed tried not to watch while Stede toed off his shoes then unfastened his belt. But then the man had his fly down and was pushing his trousers down to his ankles and all Ed could see or think was legs . He’d half expected Stede to be one of those business guys that had full sleeves of tattoos hidden carefully under their suits to keep things tame for the 9-5. But all he could see now as Stede stepped free of his blue pants was clean and creamy skin. Completely blank, aside from a light smatter of blonde hair and a few freckles. Fuck me, he thought, staring at the pale expanse of Stede’s legs. This was going to kill him.

Stede straightened up and took a moment to fold his trousers, because of course he was the kind of guy to care about neatly folding his clothes. He held them over one arm then looked up to Ed, standing in his jacket and socks and a snug pair of grey boxer briefs Ed had to absolutely force himself not to stare at. He focused his eyes firmly on Stede’s left ear instead, unable to quite get himself to meet the man’s eye.

“Where can I pop this?” Stede asked.

“Just anywhere on the table is fine,” Ed choked out, indicating the old massage table wrapped in plastic.

He sat on his swivel chair and pulled on a pair of black latex gloves. Grabbing the alcohol swabs, Ed rolled forward to sit in front of Stede. Stede in his tiny fucking underwear. He needed to get this fucking crush or whatever was happening under control. This was ridiculous and beyond unprofessional. He confirmed Stede wanted the tat on his right thigh, then ripped open an alcohol swab to wipe him down. 

“Oh!” Stede exclaimed, and he shivered under Ed’s touch.

“Sorry mate,” Ed muttered, not daring to look up. He used another wipe to be sure he got everywhere, then grabbed the razor he’d laid out.

He shaved a large patch along the front of Stede’s leg, watching the fine little hairs collect on the razor before he wiped them away. He made sure to clean the skin again, balling some paper towel down by his knee before using his squirt bottle of soapy water to moisten the area. Finally he grabbed his stencil.

“Stand straight for me,” he said. His chair was a little too high and he didn't want to hunch in closer, he’d be doing enough of that once he started tattooing.

Stede adjusted his gait, standing with his feet shoulder width apart, hips square and knees straight. Ed flashed him a thumbs up then shifted onto the floor, kneeling so he could get a good angle as carefully he pressed the thermal paper of the stencil to Stede’s pale skin. His tongue poked out between his teeth as he made careful work of lining it up just so. He was a master of stencils, rarely did he need to do it more than once, and generally that only happened if the client decided to change the position or size completely. 

“Moment of truth,” he said quietly, using a finger to flick at the corner of the paper until he could pinch it between his fingers and slowly peel the stencil away.

Perfect. The blue tint lines were clean and clear, and as Ed considered it he internally high-fived himself. 

“Right, what d’we think?” Ed asked, he looked up now. Perhaps he shouldn’t have.

Stede stared down at him, his eyes dark and piercing. Ed swallowed reflexively, remembering suddenly how close he’d placed himself at Stede’s feet. 

“Is, uh, that placement okay?” he asked, his voice coming out strangled to his own ears.

Stede stepped back in a rush, looking at his leg while Ed struggled to his feet. His fucking knee, he really had to get a chair that went lower so he could avoid the kneeling thing all together. 

“There’s a mirror,” He said, trying to swing the stiffness from his leg -and only his leg- before leading Stede over to the door to the backroom, from which hung their full length mirror.

Stede smiled and stood before it, pulling his shirt tails out of the way to get a proper look at the design. 

“It’s amazing.” He gushed, and Ed was alarmed to see the man’s eyes tearing up.

“Happy with how it's sitting? I put it pretty front on, but if you want it round the side or higher, lower, we can do that, man.”

“No, it's perfect. It’s exactly where I wanted.” Stede told him. “I love it.”

The door slammed open. Izzy was finished his break then, and he glowered at Stede, taking in his exposed legs and the ‘namby-pamby’ design on his leg. Stede, for his part, offered Iz a smile, though Ed thought it looked a little less bright than the ones he’d been getting.

“Oh hello! I’m Stede.”

Izzy grunted, shoving past him toward his own station.

“Don’t mind Izzy,” Ed said as Stede turned to give him a confused look. “He’s an asshole. Come on, let’s go get started, huh?”

He led Stede back to his station and got him to sit on the table. 

“Oh shit, have you done the paperwork yet?” he asked suddenly.

“Uh, no?”

Ed smacked himself, pulled off his gloves and went looking for the clipboard. Izzy was muttering under his breath, shaking his head as he went about cleaning and prepping his own station. Ed ignored him as best he could, found the clipboard by the front desk, grabbed a pen then handed them both to Stede.

“Do that, and I’ll get the machine ready.”

Stede dutifully filled out the single sheet of paper work and signed his name at the bottom. He set the clipboard on top of his folded trousers and Ed double checked he had all his ink caps and everything else ready to go.

“Right, mate. I’ll get you to lie down I reckon. You ready to get started?”

Stede nodded, eyes suddenly fixed on the tattoo machine in Ed’s re-gloved hand. “Mhmm,” he mumbled.

“Always daunting the first time, but don’t worry. I’ll start off slow right, little lines, let you get used to it. After the first minute or so, it's not that bad. Trust me.” He indicated his own arms, decorated wrist to shoulder in various tattoos. “I did some of these myself, I have a gentle touch.”

Stede seemed to let out a little breath of relief. And he smiled a smaller, but oddly trusting smile before he lay down, his right side closest to Ed.

“Don’t hold your breath okay. Just relax. Nice deep breaths.” Ed continued as he rolled in close. He placed his free hand just above the blue lines of the stencil, turned on his machine and leant in close. “Okay first line,”

He pressed the machine into Stede’s skin, pulling down and watching the ink embed into his flesh. He pulled back and looked up to Stede’s face. He was biting his lip, staring up at the ceiling, but seemed to be okay. He hadn’t cried out or anything which was better than some of the guys he had on his table. 

“How was that?” he asked idly.

“Not… not too bad.”

Ed grinned, “High praise.” He commented, “alright, let's do some more.”

He did another few lines, pausing briefly in between each go, and after a few moments he started taking longer strokes, waiting less between lines.

“How’s it feel?” he asked as he worked.

“It’s like,” Stede paused as he considered the buzz of the machine poking into his skin. “Like I'm being scratched by a very determined kitten.”

Ed laughed, “That’s fucking perfect man, yeah. A pissed off little kitten, just scratching you very precisely, over and over. That’s ridiculous man, I fuckin’ love it.”

Stede Bonnet stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of something, anything, but the beautiful man sitting adjacent to him. The beautiful man with his large warm hand on his thigh, pressing a tattoo gun to his skin that sent shocks of vibration through his core. His eyes squeezed shut. Think of anything, he begged himself silently. Gardening, aeroplane bathrooms, that weird app Lucius keeps talking about. Anything that would stop the stirring he felt deep in his gut warning him of a situation about to develop in his underwear. The very much simple bamboo blend, one layer of fabric between his dick and the world, underwear.

“Can I take a bathroom break?” He squeaked.

Ed, thankfully, pulled the tattoo gun away. “Sure man,” he said, setting it down as Stede hurried to sit up, still willing himself to stay within indecency laws. “Bathroom’s through there.”

He indicated a door in the far corner with a sign of the standard man and woman. Crudely drawn dick and balls drawn on one figure, breasts and a bush on the other. But Stede couldn’t bring himself to judge the artwork currently, and he rushed through to find a two stall bathroom. A small sink stuck out from the wall and Stede turned the tap on, splashing his face with the cold water.

“Get a hold of yourself, man.” He said in a whispered hiss to his reflection in the cracked mirror.

So his tattoo artist was attractive, he would just have to put that aside. Never mind the fact that Stede hadn’t had a successful date in God knows how long. It was inappropriate. And the man was probably straight anyway. Sure they’d made a couple innuendos, but that didn’t mean anything. Besides which, Ed was, frankly, out of his league. By a mile. A dozen miles. 

He was cool and rugged, he had his long hair pulled into a bun on the top of his head, a great beard Stede wanted to run his fingers through, and tattoos all up his arms. Perhaps all over his body- No . That was exactly the wrong line of thinking.

With a groan Stede stepped into a cubicle. He pulled himself from his boxer briefs and started to take a leak, hoping that would somehow solve everything when he noticed a piece of cardboard tapped to the partition separating his stall from the next. It was decorated with a drawing of an aubergine, and curiosity gripped Stede as he shook himself off. Not wanting a wet drop to mark his underwear and embarrass him further, Stede took the precaution of wiping himself on a square of toilet paper before tucking his dick away. Then, before he could stop to think better of it, he pulled at the tape holding up the cardboard.

Oh.

There was a hole -a glory hole, the voice in his head that sounded remarkably like Lucius’ told him- in the wall. Round and taped off at the edges to minimise discomfort, the hole was about the size of his fist. He blushed and quickly replaced the cardboard and tape, flushed and washed his hands and walked back out to where Ed was waiting.

Iggy -or was it Izzy?- glared at him as he passed and Stede quickly put himself back on the table and laid back. Right. He could do this. No worries at all. Ed placed his hand back on Stede’s leg, fingers warm through the latex. Stede’s breath caught in his throat. Fuck.

He swallowed, trying desperately to ignore the way Ed was tilting his thigh so it pivoted outwards. Or the way Ed now leant over him to reach the inner side of his thigh, how if he was any closer he’d be able to feel his breath on his skin. 

“How long have you been a tattoo artist?” he blurted out, still staring up at the ceiling.

“Ages,” Ed said with a wistful sigh. “I mean, officially we’ve had the shop, what, ten years Iz?”

“Twelve,” rasped Izzy.

“Twelve years.” Ed agreed, “but I’ve been tattooing for years before that, going back, oh god knows. I bought my old gun off a mate and taught myself on oranges and bananas and shit, then did a couple on myself. After that I’d pull it out every now and then, set up in my garage and give tattoos to mates and mates of mates for a handful of cash or a slab of beer.”

“What was your first tattoo?” Stede asked, hissing a little as Ed traced the gun over a sensitive spot.

“I got this skull,” he paused to lift his right arm and point to a simple outline of a skull on his bicep, “when I was eighteen. Never really stopped after that, whenever I had the money or a mate who wanted to have a go of it, just got something new.”

“And which ones did you do yourself?” Stede asked, eyes trailing dangerously over Ed’s arms. Taking in the art and not the muscles beneath, definitely not. 

“All the shit ones,” Ed said and he looked up and flashed him a grin, half hidden behind his beard but his eyes sparkled even as they crinkled half shut. Stede felt his heart stutter in his chest at the sight of it. “All the clusters of crosses and stars mostly. All the good ones I did on my thighs.”

“Right.” Stede felt his eyes flicker down to Ed’s legs wrapped in leather pants. He really wanted to see those tattoos.

For artistic appreciation purposes, of course.

The next few hours passed both in a blink, and draggingly, agonisingly slowly. They chatted together so freely, about nothing and everything and anything. For the first time in Stede’s life he felt free to just keep talking and talking and talking, and Ed was interested . He kept asking more questions, wanting more details, more context. Not once had he tried to shut Stede up with a passive aggressive comment. Stede wasn’t sure Ed had a passive aggressive bone in his body.

The only thing that really interrupted their flow was Stede’s constant need to take breaks. He could manage about twenty minutes or so at a time before he needed to duck off to the bathroom and steady himself. Not from the pain, although he let Ed (and Izzy with his snide remarks and insults) believe it was. He was, afterall, very used to being thought of as weak and lily-livered. But actually he was pleasantly surprised by his own pain tolerance. Sure there were a few spots that when Ed went over them with a fresh colour it smarted a bit, but no more than Stede could handle. It was certainly better than when he’d gone to get his nipples pierced and that had only taken a few minutes. No. Stede’s problem solely concerned the fucking boner that kept threatening to make camp in his boxers.

At first he assumed it was simply due to his own lack of dalliances of late, combined with Ed’s obvious attractiveness and the proximity of his touch as he worked. But as the hours had gone by it became more and more clear to Stede this was something deeper. This was something in his body aching for Ed’s, with his pulled back hair and crooked smile. Those kind brown eyes that reached into his soul and planted themselves there. 

The ease in which they got along, like he’d known Ed his whole life. Like he was Dorothy stepping out into Oz and seeing colour for the first time, having only known a world of sepia tones. It was maddening.

If he was lucky, if he was very lucky, Stede would find the courage to give Ed his number at the end of the session. He could play it cool, like he wanted to simply continue their conversation. Of course he’d never been cool a day in his life. But he could try, right?

Stede sighed, splashed his face with the cool tap water from the sink and headed back to the door. The sound of barely restrained arguing caught his ear, and Stede paused, holding the bathroom door open just a crack.

“That idiot has taken enough time Edward, wrap him up and send him fucking home.” Izzy was saying in his croaked rasp that set Stede’s hair on end.

“So he’s gone over his time a bit, it’s no biggie. I can close up shop by myself y’know Iz, I’m a big boy.”

“A bit? The ponce has gone over almost two hours cause he’s too much of a fucking pansy to sit still for longer than twenty fucking minutes.”

“Shut up Iz, it's a big piece for a first timer, alright. He can take all the time he needs.”

“You can't go throwing away your time, Edward, we have bills to keep on top of.”

“And we will!” Ed sighed, “Look Izzy, your last client left an hour ago, your station’s disinfected, the paperwork’s filed. Just go if you’re so desperate to get outta here. It’s my time, alright, if I want to spend it finishing this guy’s tattoo, that’s what I'm gonna do. I can do the floors and lock up when I’m finished.”

Izzy huffed. “ Fine . But make sure you get fucking paid for it Edward. We can’t give out freebies just because you have a soft spot for some fag going through his fifth fucking midlife crisis.”

Stede winced at the word, but before he could start to feel sorry for himself or push the emotion away Ed was speaking.

“Say that fucking word again, Iz, and you’re fucking fired, y’hear me?”

Izzy muttered something Stede couldn’t hear and then a door opened and slammed quickly shut. Ed cursed and there was a crash as if he’d kicked something, and another string of curses. Stede hung back another minute or two to give Ed a moment, waiting until the sudden loud clatter of metal shutters being pulled down told him it was okay to come back out.

Ed was outside on the street, crouched by the storefront, locking the shutters in place.

“Everything alright?” Stede called out to him nervously.

“What?” Ed looked up, “Oh yeah, fine. It’s getting a bit late so I'm just closing up the front so we don't have any walk-ins bothering us.”

“And Izzy’s… gone?”

“Yeah he left,”

Stede nodded. He wandered back over to the table and sat down. He didn’t lie back yet and instead watched Ed, noticing a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. Ed locked the last of the shutters outside, then came in and bolted the door. That finished, he went to the back room to wash his hands before he sat back down in his swivel chair and pulled on fresh gloves.

“Ready to keep going?” he asked, “I reckon we can knock the last of this out in no time.”

Stede nodded again. He lay back and Ed reached for his machine and soon the now familiar buzz of the tattoo gun pressed against his skin. He bit his lip. This was getting ridiculous. Within minutes of restarting, Stede could feel the tightening coil in his abdomen begin as well. Each vibration of the tattoo gun shot through him like lightning, and the scratching sting of each stroke started to warp in his mind, blurring into that grey area where pain met pleasure.

“Push your leg out to me a little more, mate?” Ed asked, nudging Stede’s thigh with the back of his hand.

Stede swallowed thickly, spreading his legs a fraction to move closer like Ed asked.

“Perfect.”

He tried to hold out. He tried to ask about Ed’s family, but that was a sensitive subject so he tried to ask about if he liked animals. Stede loved animals but had never been allowed one as a child, and then he’d married Mary and it turned out she was allergic to pet dander. One of the first things he’d done after moving into his own flat after the divorce was get himself a large ginger cat from a shelter. His name was James, but he had such an attitude Stede tended to call him His Royal Highness.

Ed chuckled, “Yeah cats can be right bastards. But nah, I don’t have any pets. I thought about getting a dog once. Just a little one, cause my apartment is shit small, but you gotta walk ‘em and keep ‘em from pissing everywhere and I wasn't sure it would work out with my workload. Then I realised I already have Izzy and I didn't need another pet on top of him.”

The conversation fell into a natural lull. Stede made it about ten more minutes -barely- by doing breathing exercises in his head and trying to recite his favourite flowers alphabetically by latin name. It didn’t work.

“I think I need another break,” he squeaked. 

“I’m almost done man, I promise.” Ed said, “like ten more minutes. You can do it, yeah?”

He looked up at Stede with such an encouraging grin Stede was prone to believe him. He could do this. Ten minutes.

“Okay,” he said, and he closed his eyes.

He couldn’t do this.

It was already too much. He couldn’t help it, he was a sexually repressed, recently out, single man in his forties. And Ed was a masterpiece of a man. All beard and leather and eyes as deep as space. All toned arms covered in an array of tattoos, husky voice and flirtatious laugh. And these vibrations had been running through his leg so close to his fucking dick for hours now. It was a losing battle of biology. A lost battle.

He could feel the familiar surge as his blood pumped through his body. His heart was racing in his chest, his breath was shallow and he could feel the beat of his pulse low and warm as he grew and swelled. Fuck fuck fuck. There was no way Ed hadn’t noticed. His head was only a foot away from Stede’s crotch, and now, Stede’s raging fucking erection.

This was mortifying.

More mortifying than when he was fourteen and he’d got a hard on in class and Nigel Badminton had told the whole class. The note had been passed around behind his back, and when the bell rang he waited for everyone to leave before him so no one would see, only to find them all standing in the hallway to watch him desperately try and cover himself with a pencil case.

Stede didn’t speak, or even open his eyes the entire time Ed finished up the tattoo. Even when the buzzing finally stopped and Ed announced he was done. He waited as long as he could, just as he’d done at fourteen. Ed gave him one final wipe over with a damp paper towel and asked him what he thought. His first tattoo. Collecting the last dregs of his dignity, Stede opened his eyes and sat up. 

He looked down at his leg, not wanting to face Ed. The tattoo, even upside down and pin pricked with blood, was beautiful. Absolutely perfect. And he loved it, he did. But looking down at his lap meant he could also see how obvious his problem was. His dick strained against the fabric of his underwear so firmly he could see the fucking outline of it’s head. He swallowed, wishing as he often did, that the world would just swallow him whole. But of course it didn't, and Ed was waiting for a response.

“It’s amazing,” he said, and just because he was going to be polite about it didn’t mean he had to look Ed in the eye. “Thank you.”

“You’re, uh, you’re welcome man.” Ed said, and Stede thought his voice sounded oddly gruff. “Let me wrap that up for you.”

Stede nodded numbly, and Ed reached for a roll of cling wrap. He had Stede pivot on the table so he faced him, his legs dangling over the edge, then he reached for Stede’s ankle and placed his foot on Ed’s own leather clad leg. Stede closed his eyes again.

Ed didn’t say anything, for which he was grateful. He just spread the cling wrap over the swollen front of his thigh, and used the way Stede’s leg was propped up to wind the film around his thigh and back across the front where it stuck to itself. He ripped it off and put the roll down in favour of some masking tape, which he used to secure the cling wrap in place. With that done he lowered Stede’s foot from his knee and cleared his throat.

“All done mate.”

Stede nodded. He opened his eyes and dared to look at Ed. He expected to see a scowl on his face, expected him to be pissed off, or at least put off by Stede’s obvious display. Expected him to be disgusted by it, by Stede. But all he saw was a smile, and kind eyes. Eyes that looked darker than before. 

“I’m sorry about…” He couldn’t say it. Not out loud. Not in front of Ed. “...this.” he finished lamely, and he waved a hand in a redundant gesture to his lap.

“Don’t be, man. It happens sometimes.”

He was probably just saying that to be nice, but a small amount of relief still flooded through Stede’s shoulders. It made sense. It was a sensitive process. Surely in the history of man he wasn't the first guy to get an erection during a tattoo. And Ed looked so genuine, so reassuring, Stede couldn’t stop the small twitch of a smile.

“Thanks.”

“Look man, you don’t wanna be dealing with a fresh tattoo and that while pulling your pants back on.” Ed said awkwardly. “I’m gonna take a while cleaning up anyway, so uh, you can just duck to the toilet, yeah, and uh, take care of it. No judgement.”

Stede flushed, dropping Ed’s eyes to stare into his lap instead, beyond embarrassed at the idea of wanking in the next room to a complete stranger. One that was very attractive and had just had his hands all over his still naked thigh. He remembered the glory hole, and wondered if Ed would possibly… even though they both knew they were the only two in the shop. His cock twitched traitorously. 

“Or,” Ed continued slowly, “I could- uh. I could… help?”

Stede’s head snapped up. His brain felt like a computer straining to run too many applications at once. Just a spinning wheel as his thoughts were loading, loading, loading. 

“Help?” he managed to ask, his voice strangled.

Ed blushed, and it was beautiful as much as it was confusing. He cleared his throat and made a gesture with his own hand. 

“It’s just you’re not the only one in this, uh, predicament?”

Stede’s eyes widened, he felt them. He knew it must be comical and ridiculous -like everything else about him- but he couldn’t pause to care. Instead he just followed the movement of Ed’s gesture and saw that, yes, Ed too was straining in his pants, the line of his dick long and firm down the side of one leg. Stede felt his brain crash. Blue screen of death. Time to turn it off and on again and hope for the fucking best, but he doesn’t like his chances.

“Stede?”

Words were lost to him. He stared at Ed, dragging his eyes from his crotch, back to his face, looking at him with an exposingly hopeful expression. His mouth felt dry, and his heart was pounding not just in his cock but between his ears now too, urgent and deafening. No thoughts, no fears, no consequences. 

Stede’s hand reached out of its own accord, and he could see himself as his hand met Ed’s beard, cupping his jaw. Ed leant into the touch, just barely, just a whisper of a movement, but Stede felt it. His heart floated in his chest, still pounding hard. He swallowed, trying his best to find his voice but still failing. He quivered a small shaky nod. 

“Yes?” Asked Ed,

“Mhmm.” Stede mumbled before managing to say a single word. “Yes.”

Ed grinned, a bright, toothy, excited grin. “Yes, fuck. I’ve been wanting to do this all bloody afternoon.”

He pulled off his gloves, flinging them into his small bin, then set his hands on Stede’s knees. They pushed gently, and Stede let his legs spread open, barely believing his eyes as Ed’s gaze washed over him in a way he could only describe as hungrily. His hands trailed up Stede’s thighs, careful to skirt around his fresh tattoo, until his fingers were tracing the hem on each leg of his boxer briefs. 

“Fuck, mate, your thighs.” Ed breathed, “are those freckles?”

“‘Fraid so,” Stede croaked.

Ed groaned, tracing a line from freckle to freckle along Stede’s untattooed side. “ Fuuuuck me.”

Stede twitched under his touch, hips stuttering. “Yes,” he gasped, “yes, if that’s how you want to, oh Ed I’d love to fuck you.”

“What, really?” Ed asked, looking up at him, “I kinda figured we’d just pull each other off, but if you want to-”

“I do,” Stede rushed, and for once he didn’t let himself feel embarrassed by his enthusiasm. “I really, really do.”

Ed nodded. He jumped to his feet and surged forward, pressing a firm and intoxicating kiss to Stede’s surprised lips. He pulled away again before Stede could respond properly, “I wanna suck you first.” he murmured into Stede’s lips. “I wanna lick all those fucking freckles and take you down my throat.”

Stede whimpered in response, then wordlessly wrapped his knees around Ed’s waist, giving himself just enough leverage to lean back on the table and lift his hips. He pushed his underwear down, wincing slightly as the elastic stretched over his swollen thigh. Ed managed the rest, pulling them the rest of the way off, stepping back so they could fall from his knees and off his feet to the floor. He kissed Stede again, hands cupping his face, tongue plundering his mouth. Stede in turn spread his legs wide and pushed forward, so his arse only just rested on the edge of the massage table. His hands found purchase on Ed’s shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his worn purple shirt. 

“ Fuck, ” Stede gasped as they parted for breath.

“Yeah,” Ed sighed back, his breath hot and heavy and perfect as it whispered across Stede’s face. He pressed a firm peck to Stede’s panting lips, then pulled away, unhooking Stede’s legs from his waist to sit down on his chair.

“Where’re you going?” Stede whispered.

Ed smiled, wheeling in close. “No where,” he told Stede with a smile. “Not as young as I used to be, my old knee won’t take it too well so I thought maybe we could make it work like this.”

He lifted Stede’s tattooed leg and with one hand, hooked his knee over his shoulder. The other hand stroked down Stede’s untattooed thigh, pushing as he went to encourage Stede to spread wider, his balance on the edge of the table growing more and more precarious. He wobbled, catching his weight by leaning back on one hand, the other chasing Ed’s to grip his fingers. Ed squeezed them back, shooting Stede a wink, then he bent down and licked a stripe along Stede’s quivering thigh.

“Oh God,” Stede gasped, and he had to tear his hand from Ed’s and push it out behind him to stop himself falling forwards.

Ed grinned up at him. “Maybe you should lie back?” he suggested.

Stede nodded hastily, and carefully lowered himself to his elbows, and then to his back. He was sideways on the table, his arse pressed along one edge, his neck falling back on the other. He must make quite a ridiculous sight, he thought, splayed out on his back, neck long and exposed, wearing nothing but his shirt and his legs spread wide. His cock pointed up toward his stomach, and despite having not been touched at all he could feel moisture leaking from its tip.

Ed didn’t seem to mind though. He licked Stede again, and after a moment he realised he was retracing the path his finger had taken moments earlier with his tongue. Drawing invisible lines from freckle to freckle, occasionally paused to suck a deep red mark into the white expanse of Stede’s skin.

“Ed,” he whimpered, his hips rolling up, cock bouncing. 

His leg over Ed’s shoulder squeezed, trying to pull him closer, guide him where Stede wanted- needed him to go.

“So fucking pretty, man,” Ed whispered. 

He pressed his face into the crook of Stede’s leg, where whisper fine leg hairs turned to coarse golden curls. He traced his nose along that seam joining groin to thigh, then opened his mouth and kissed him, laving his tongue over hot skin, sucking and moaning as Stede gasped beneath him. 

“Please!” Stede exclaimed, “Ohh, God, Ed. Please .”

Stede swore he could feel Ed’s answering smirk against his skin, but he didn’t stop to dwell on it as that hot wet tongue trailed from the red mark it had just painted, and up the underside of Stede’s dick. He took Stede in his mouth, sucking him up and down with practised ease until Stede was hitting the back of his throat, his beard tickling against Stede’s balls with every bob of his head, sucking him down like a filthy lollipop. Stede babbled, his hips trying desperately to buck up and fuck into Ed’s throat. Ed held him firmly in place however, so Stede settled for letting his fingers find their way into the silver bun of Ed’s hair and gripping on tight. Ed moaned around him, the hand holding Stede’s hip down squeezing, his thumb pressing into one of the red bite marks along his creamy skin. 

This was it, Stede thought, his whines and moans growing more and more incoherent. The world could throw everything it had at him right now and he wouldn’t care. This was it for him, this was his everything. Were life on Earth to spontaneously end right now, he would die a happy man, an ecstatic man. A cumming man-

“Stop!” He shouted, jolting up.

Ed jumped back, spit dribbling down his lips and into his beard. “What’s wrong? Is it the beard? I know it scratches a bit-”

Stede shook his head, heart hammering away as he tried to regain his breath. Ed stroked a hand self consciously over his chin.

“No, it’s not that.” He reassured him. “I liked it. The beard, the scratching. I just- fuck- I almost came right down your throat and you seemed to really want me to fuck you and I haven’t really done anything like this before, I don’t want to disappoint you or let you down-”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay man. Take a breath.”

Stede nodded, taking a long deep breath and trying to push those spiralling intrusive thoughts away and let himself relax for one. Ed pressed a kiss to the knee draped over his shoulder, and lowered it.

“Sorry,” Stede said with a sheepish smile, shifting to scoot back a little on the table. “It’s uh, just been a while.”

Ed nodded, “It’s okay man. It’s been a while for me too.”

“I’ve never done this before.” Stede repeated. “Had a, uh, tryst with a-”

“Man?” Ed supplied.

Stede shook his head. “Not that. I meant… Well, a stranger.”

Ed nodded slowly. “Right. Well uh. I don’t know what you’d normally consider a stranger, Stede. But I just spent the last few hours learning all about your kids and your fucking cat. I know you work for your dad’s fancy firm and hate it. I know you like old ships and have a favourite species of fucking moth.” He shrugged, “I wouldn’t call that a stranger.”

“What would you call it?” Stede asked softly.

It was Ed’s turn to flush, the apple of his cheeks not hidden by his beard turning a beautiful pink Stede wanted to memorise. 

“Uhh,” Ed stumbled. “Well, I. uh.”

Stede reached out, his hand cupping Ed’s face and his thumb swiping indulgently across the skin of his cheek.  “Because I think it sounds almost like… a date?”

Ed’s eyes fluttered closed. And for a moment, he didn't speak. It would have freaked him out, Stede thought, if he hadn’t felt the way Ed leant into his touch. So he waited, the old feeling of shame and anxiety blissfully absent as he watched Ed’s tongue poke out and lick his lips.

“I think I’d like that.” Ed whispered, his eyes still closed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Stede grinned, and he bent forward, pulling Ed in and kissing him. Ed smiled against his mouth, he could feel it, and when they pulled back, they kept their foreheads pressed gently together, their breath mingling intimately between their faces.

“Hey Stede?” Ed asked.

“Yes?”

“D’you still want to fuck me?”

Laughter bubbled up inside him, and Stede laughed even as he pressed his face to Ed’s. “I really do.”

Ed beamed, a laugh rumbling in his chest too. “Fuck yeah,” he said softly. “You’ve got a really fucking nice dick.”

“You’re just saying that so I’ll bend you over,” Stede teased.

“Can you?”

Stede flushed but nodded enthusiastically. “Yes,” he whispered heavily, “definitely.”

He practically jumped to his feet, standing now so close to Ed that the other man could press his nose into his stomach. And he did, biting at the shirt he still wore.

“Take this off?”

Stede looked down at him, trying to focus on Ed , and not the way the bottom of Ed’s beard kept brushing against his dick. He licked his lips, and stroked a strand of hair he’d pulled from his bun earlier back from his face.

“That would leave me at rather the disadvantage.”

Ed raised his eyebrows, but conceded by reaching down and pulling his purple shirt up over his head. His tattoos continued up his arms and shoulders and across his chest like Stede had thought. He licked his lips subconsciously.

“More,” Stede whispered. But it wasn’t a request. It felt more like a demand, an order. Ed shivered.

Pushing back his chair to put a small amount of space between them, Ed reached down and without breaking eye contact, reached for his belt. He moved slowly, watching Stede’s dark eyes on him as he pulled his buckle loose and undid his fly. Stede shucked off his suit jacket, and even though his dick already poked out from his shirt tails, he too took his time to strip slowly. One button at a time until his shirt hung open and revealed his chest, with his pierced nipples, soft belly and smattering of chest hair.

“Fuck off,” Ed groaned, “how are you so fucking gorgeous?”

Stede dropped his eyes to the floor, “I’m hardly-”

“You are ,” Ed insisted. “You think I blow all my clients? Let just anyone boss me around and get me to start stripping off in my own shop?”

“I just mean I’m not exactly Chris Hemsworth or-”

“And who the fuck says you have to be Chris Hemsworth to be fucking sexy?” Ed asked.

He stood up and took the one step forward to close the gap between them. He cupped Stede’s cheeks and kissed him, pressing their bodies together from tits to dick. Stede moaned, feeling Ed’s interest pressed to his own, still separated by the leather of Ed’s pants.

“Now, hurry up and get naked, and I’ll fold myself over for you.”

“Fuck,” Stede sighed, and he quickly focused himself on undoing the buttons at each of his wrists so he could finally pull himself free of the fabric of his shirt and cast it aside without a single thought to things like creases and wrinkles.

By the time he was done, standing now in just his socks -which he quickly pulled off and tucked into his dress shoes- Ed was naked. Fully naked and across the room, bending over to rummage in a draw at Izzy’s station. He was a vision, his back adorned with a large sun tattoo between his shoulder blades, and an array of scars Stede was desperate to know the stories of before kissing each and every one. 

“Yes, Jesus, there it is.” Ed exclaimed.

“What are you looking for?” Stede asked him, tilting his head to try peer around Ed’s naked form.

“Lube,” Ed grinned, straightening up and turning around to brandish a little bottle at him. Stede raised an alarmed eyebrow, but Ed shrugged. “You saw the bathroom Stede, this isn’t the first time someone’s fucked in the shop.”

“I suppose not,” Stede conceded.

“Come ‘ere.” Ed said, reaching out with his empty hand. Stede went, taking Ed’s hand and smiling at him shyly. “I’m gonna want to see you again after this, you know that, right?”

Stede blushed. “You are?”

“Fuck yeah I am.”

Ed dipped forward, pressing his lips to Stede’s before quickly pushing his tongue forward and licking hotly at Stede’s mouth. Stede swayed on his feet, hands coming to rest on Ed’s bare chest to catch his balance. He gave as good as he got, pressing his tongue to Ed’s, sucking on it until Ed groaned and dropped the lube somewhere to grab Stede’s ass with both hands and pull him closer.

“Ed,” he panted.

“Yeah?”

“Bend over.”

Ed did not need to be told twice. He let go of Stede with a parting squeeze then turned around and promptly bent at the waist over Izzy’s table. Stede watched him with a smile, and trailed an appreciative hand down the length of Ed’s spine and across the curve of his ass before going about locating the dropped bottle of lube. He found it on the floor and picked it up, popping open the top and squeezing some out onto his fingers.

With Ed so exposed as he was, ass presenting out to him invitingly, Stede noticed a second tattoo on his back. Written in typewriter script were the words ‘ LIVE FAST. EAT ASS. ’

“And what’s the story behind this tattoo, then?” He asked with a smirk, tracing the tattoo with one hand, while the other delved lower, between Ed’s cheeks.

“UHh!” Ed gasped at the cold touch of lube, “I think it’s pretty self explanatory.”

Stede circled his fingers teasingly over Ed’s hole, then slipped lower over his taint and pressed firmly making curse and shudder beneath him.

“Is that so?” he asked, pushing against Ed’s prostate externally in a languid circular motion.

“Fuck Stede,” Ed writhed.

“Do you like having your arse eaten?” Stede asked him casually, fingers sliding back up to tease around his hole once more. “Or do you prefer to do the eating?”

Ed pushed back, trying to get Stede to open him, but Stede pulled his hand away the closer Ed tried to get. 

“Well?”

“Both,” Ed panted, “Stede, fucking get in me already. You can take all the time you want to pull me apart next time, take all damn night if you want, but right now I need you to fuck me. Please .”

Stede pushed and the tip of one finger slid in. He took his time, but no more than was strictly necessary, choosing to take Ed on his word and save really dragging out his pleasure for another time. He eased in with one finger, then shortly after a second and a third, until he was well and truly fucking Ed’s ass on his hand, holding one hand tight into the flesh of Ed’s waist as he watched the other man slowly come apart below him.

“Fuck, Ed,” he hissed, “You take my fingers so fucking good. Are you ready? Can you take my cock like that? Can you lose yourself on it, impale yourself like I’m running you through?”

“Yes! Dickfuck, yes, yes I can. Please Stede- fuck. Give it to me.”

“Give what to you?”

“Your cock! Give me your cock! Please Stede!”

Stede grinned, “Yeah, I’ll give you my cock alright.” He pulled his fingers out and stroked them over his dick while reaching for the lube next to Ed with the other hand. He squeezed some directly onto his cock and spread it over himself, then for good measure squeezed more to drip down Ed’s crack.

“Ready?” he asked, lining himself up.

“ Yes ,”

He pushed in.

Ed took him easily, and Stede’s head dropped forward in bliss as he was enveloped in his heat. It was like pure bliss wrapped around his dick. Hot and slick and tight. He swore and Ed pushed back as Stede pushed forward, taking him deeper and deeper until Stede bottomed out. 

“Oh Ed,” Stede breathed, lost to the rest of the world.

“Move,” Ed cursed. His fingers were gripping the vinyl cover of Izzy’s tattoo table, knuckles turning white. “Fucking move, Stede.”

“Right. Yes.”

Stede pulled almost entirely out, leaving just his tip inside before thrusting forward and fucking back into Ed with one stroke. Ed yelled out and Stede gripped his hips to steady himself, repeating the action and fucking into Ed again. Ed cried out again, and he hunched over, tucking his face in the edge of the table, biting into it to stop himself from running his mouth because it was fucking filthy and he wasn’t sure if Stede would be into the levels of depravity he could spit in the heat of the moment just yet.

“I don’t know this will last much longer, Ed.” Stede panted behind him, his hips gaining speed, his thrusts getting shallower, but filling him just as deep.

“Touch my dick,” Ed bit out, “Pull my fucking hair like it’s the reins of some fancy fucking horse.”

He reached up and pulled the already ruined bun free from its tie, shaking his hair loose before retaking his grip on the table. Stede swore under his breath. He reached his lubed fingers round Ed’s waist, grasped his dick, thick and heavy in his hand. Ed hissed, hips stuttering between fucking into Stede’s hand and fucking himself back on Stede’s cock. With his other hand Stede reached forward, he grabbed a handful of Ed’s grey and silver locks, pulling them back. It was an awkward arrangement, bent half over Ed’s back, trying to thrust his hips without his hands holding his weight, but he pulled on Ed’s hair like reins as instructed, and Ed’s neck bent up as his head tilted back, pulling with each thrust giving Stede the leverage he needed.

It also had the benefit of forcing Ed’s line of vision front and centre, right into the dark glass of his shop front, the shutters down outside. He met his own eyes in the filtered reflection and moaned deep and guttural.

“Like this?” Stede asked from behind him.

“Fuck yes, just like that Stede.” Ed babbled, he was so close now, so close. The table blocked him from seeing Stede’s hand on his dick, but it didn’t block the view of Stede’s face.

His blonde hair, so perfectly curled and coiled when he’d first walked in just hours ago, now wild around his head, falling into his face and fluttering with each thrust of his hips. He was biting his lip in concentration, looking down and watching himself disappearing into Ed’s round ass. It was too much. It was perfect. It was an explosion and Ed’s eyes scrunched shut as his body lit up from the inside out and he was cumming, painting the floor with streaks of his spend.

“Fuck, Stede! ”

Stede milked him for all he was worth, gripping his hair still tight before he was falling forward and filling Ed with a gush of familiar warmth. He shook as he came, hips stuttering with a flutter of final thrusts. His grip in Ed’s hair slackened, then fell away as he let go, his chest falling onto Ed’s sweat soaked back.

They heaved together, hearts racing and lungs starving for air. After a moment to gather himself and any remaining strength, Stede pushed up off of Ed, and gently pulled out. Ed winced a little, sensitive, and he felt the cum start to drip from his hole. He watched in the reflection in the glass as Stede disappeared from behind him. Then yelped, a high pitched and loud yelp, as he felt a sudden hot wet tongue on his taint.

“Stede!”

The madman was on his knees, and was licking Ed, balls to asshole, lapping at his own spend and cleaning him up.

“Fuck man,” Ed cried, “ Jesus! ”

“Too much?” Stede asked, and he pressed an apologetic kiss to one of Ed’s arsecheeks.

Ed dropped his head down, his hair falling like a curtain around his head.

“Just… warn a guy next time.” He said.

“I just couldn’t resist,” Stede said, and even without seeing him Ed knew he had a fucking ass eating grin on his face. “Just felt like living fast for once in my life.”

“Oh fuck off,” Ed groaned. His arms felt like lead but he forced them to move and push himself up to standing. Stede was sitting on his knees on the ground, looking as debauched as Ed felt. His leg was still wrapped in clingfilm and Ed could see it had fogged up from their activities. He gestured to it. “How’s your leg?”

Stede shrugged sheepishly, “It uh, certainly smarts. But it was worth it, I think.”

Ed nodded. His knee was throbbing idly, and to be completely honest would likely get far less idle once the rush of his orgasm fully dissipated from his system. But he felt much the same about that already. Totally worth it.