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OFMD FICLET: aftermath
aftermath
Edward/Izzy | adult | ~700 words
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bitchlessizzyOriginally posted here.
--
Ed ducks into the storage hold to get away from the deck for a moment. He needs a break from the sun, and the smell, and the noise—from Jack and Charles, both of them stinking like dirt and sweat and singing some raunchy dock song as they work the ropes.
He's not looking for Izzy, not really. When he spots him in the far corner, his sleeves rolled up and his hair sweat-stuck to his neck where it's escaping its usually-neat tail, he blurts out an, "Oh," that seems to hang in the sticky air. His hands flex at his sides; he wants to hold Izzy's hips, touch the warm skin between Izzy's shoulder blades and the dip at the base of his spine.
Izzy had let him on their last night in Tortuga, had followed Ed through the tavern's back door with a flush on his cheeks and his lower lip caught between his teeth. He'd pushed Ed up against the wall, then dropped to his knees right there in the mud. He'd sucked Ed's cock into his mouth, slow and easy and deep.
He'd looked up at Ed with wide, glassy eyes, and he'd swallowed everything Ed had given him. But he hasn't spoken to Ed once since they returned to the ship.
The door creaks as Ed closes it behind him. Izzy spares him a glance over his shoulder before asking, "Did you need something, Teach?" in a clipped, quiet voice.
Ed scoffs. "So, it's Teach now?"
"That's your name, isn't it?"
"Called me Ed the other night."
He'd laughed it as they stumbled out into the alley, and he'd mumbled it between kisses, and he'd begged with it after he went to his knees. Ed had been rum-warm that night, a bit unsteady on his feet, but he remembers it: the wet heat of Izzy's mouth, the tight clutch of Izzy's throat, and before that, the way Izzy had said his name as he was fumbling his cock out of his pants—Ed, Ed, Eddie, please.
"You," Izzy starts. He still hasn't turned around, but Ed can see the nervous tension in him, his ducked head and drawn-tight shoulders. "Don't."
Ed moves closer and says, "You ran off. Didn't let me touch you."
"I—"
"What happened?" Ed presses, his voice sharp at the edges. "Putting my cock in your mouth sober you up?"
"It wasn't that," Izzy insists. A dark flush is spreading over the back of his neck. "I want you, so I took what you were offering that night. But I… I'm not interested in—"
"In what?" Ed grabs Izzy by the hips and tugs him back against his chest. "In me fucking you? Splitting you open?"
Izzy makes a small, desperate noise, but he doesn't pull away.
"I would, you know," Ed says, his mouth against Izzy's ear. "I'd take your sweet little ass right here. Would you want my fingers first? Or do you like it better when it hurts a bit?"
"Ed," Izzy rasps. He tips his head back onto Ed's shoulder, but when Ed reaches around to unlace his pants, he catches Ed's wrists. "No. I'm not interested in just passing the time."
"What makes you think I am?"
"I see how you are with Rackham."
"Jack?" Ed huffs out a laugh, then bites at Izzy's neck, right over his swallow. "That doesn't mean anything. We just help each other out when we can't sleep." He bites again, harder. "I'd rather be bunking with you."
"Ed," Izzy says, turning his head. His mouth brushes Ed's jaw. "Alright. Yes."
Ed gets one hand on Izzy's jaw and tilts his head enough for a kiss. It's still badly angled, and the dust from the hold is thick on both their tongues, but Ed can't help moaning into it, or rubbing his thumb at the corner of Izzy's mouth. He slides his other hand over the front of Izzy's breeches, cupping the bulge there just this side of too rough.
"Look at you," he murmurs. "Hard for me already."
"Yeah. I—fuck, Ed."
Ed pulls Izzy closer and opens Izzy's pants. Hornigold will whip them both bloody if he catches them doing this in the middle of the day, but Ed can't stop, not when Izzy's begging again.
"Ed, Ed, Eddie, please."
Edward/Izzy | adult | ~700 words
For
--
Ed ducks into the storage hold to get away from the deck for a moment. He needs a break from the sun, and the smell, and the noise—from Jack and Charles, both of them stinking like dirt and sweat and singing some raunchy dock song as they work the ropes.
He's not looking for Izzy, not really. When he spots him in the far corner, his sleeves rolled up and his hair sweat-stuck to his neck where it's escaping its usually-neat tail, he blurts out an, "Oh," that seems to hang in the sticky air. His hands flex at his sides; he wants to hold Izzy's hips, touch the warm skin between Izzy's shoulder blades and the dip at the base of his spine.
Izzy had let him on their last night in Tortuga, had followed Ed through the tavern's back door with a flush on his cheeks and his lower lip caught between his teeth. He'd pushed Ed up against the wall, then dropped to his knees right there in the mud. He'd sucked Ed's cock into his mouth, slow and easy and deep.
He'd looked up at Ed with wide, glassy eyes, and he'd swallowed everything Ed had given him. But he hasn't spoken to Ed once since they returned to the ship.
The door creaks as Ed closes it behind him. Izzy spares him a glance over his shoulder before asking, "Did you need something, Teach?" in a clipped, quiet voice.
Ed scoffs. "So, it's Teach now?"
"That's your name, isn't it?"
"Called me Ed the other night."
He'd laughed it as they stumbled out into the alley, and he'd mumbled it between kisses, and he'd begged with it after he went to his knees. Ed had been rum-warm that night, a bit unsteady on his feet, but he remembers it: the wet heat of Izzy's mouth, the tight clutch of Izzy's throat, and before that, the way Izzy had said his name as he was fumbling his cock out of his pants—Ed, Ed, Eddie, please.
"You," Izzy starts. He still hasn't turned around, but Ed can see the nervous tension in him, his ducked head and drawn-tight shoulders. "Don't."
Ed moves closer and says, "You ran off. Didn't let me touch you."
"I—"
"What happened?" Ed presses, his voice sharp at the edges. "Putting my cock in your mouth sober you up?"
"It wasn't that," Izzy insists. A dark flush is spreading over the back of his neck. "I want you, so I took what you were offering that night. But I… I'm not interested in—"
"In what?" Ed grabs Izzy by the hips and tugs him back against his chest. "In me fucking you? Splitting you open?"
Izzy makes a small, desperate noise, but he doesn't pull away.
"I would, you know," Ed says, his mouth against Izzy's ear. "I'd take your sweet little ass right here. Would you want my fingers first? Or do you like it better when it hurts a bit?"
"Ed," Izzy rasps. He tips his head back onto Ed's shoulder, but when Ed reaches around to unlace his pants, he catches Ed's wrists. "No. I'm not interested in just passing the time."
"What makes you think I am?"
"I see how you are with Rackham."
"Jack?" Ed huffs out a laugh, then bites at Izzy's neck, right over his swallow. "That doesn't mean anything. We just help each other out when we can't sleep." He bites again, harder. "I'd rather be bunking with you."
"Ed," Izzy says, turning his head. His mouth brushes Ed's jaw. "Alright. Yes."
Ed gets one hand on Izzy's jaw and tilts his head enough for a kiss. It's still badly angled, and the dust from the hold is thick on both their tongues, but Ed can't help moaning into it, or rubbing his thumb at the corner of Izzy's mouth. He slides his other hand over the front of Izzy's breeches, cupping the bulge there just this side of too rough.
"Look at you," he murmurs. "Hard for me already."
"Yeah. I—fuck, Ed."
Ed pulls Izzy closer and opens Izzy's pants. Hornigold will whip them both bloody if he catches them doing this in the middle of the day, but Ed can't stop, not when Izzy's begging again.
"Ed, Ed, Eddie, please."
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