#it was just me shooting the shit in discord many moons ago and I swore I'd make it a fic

[spikeymarshmallows]

wholeass Edizzy brain-dump that I posted into discord once, but I wanted to share with people, about subdrop, topdrop, all those very very fun and shitty emotions yayyyyy.

Just imagining they're maybe still just... fucking. or hell, they're together properly, and they've been doing kink shit for ages. and it's great and hot and fun.

They kiss all hot and nice just inside Ed’s door before they part ways for the day. Izzy has bruises across his butt and down his thighs. Ed had really gotten him worked up the night before, and they'd gone way harder than they had before. It had been so fucking hot, Izzy pleading pleading pleading, and Ed kept expecting Izzy to hiss in the way that Ed now knew meant "slow down, just a little, but don't fucking stop"--but it just never came. [he's not aware he's doing these mental checks, but there's a moment through the haze of INTENSE HORNY that he's like "....Is Izzy okay??" but nope, Izzy is doing amazing, this isn't a self-harm through kink thing, he's just SOARING]. Ed's arm is kinda sore from it, if he's honest with himself.

Maybe it was something about the constant prostate-milking-edging Ed was doing. Who knows, certainly not Ed. (certainly Ed. >:)))) )

Either way, they're both on their own highs the next morning. Deep, hard kisses before work that have Ed pushing Izzy up against the door, gripping the back of his thigh to swing his leg around Ed's hip, fuck fuck, no, no, we gotta stop, can't be late again or the crew are going to give him so much shit.

Izzy's on cloud fucking nine all morning. He keeps leaning on the railings of the ship in such a way that it'll press on his bruises, and he's so glad he’s got a good poker face about these kinds of things. He's kept his facial expressions under control, but he's definitely enjoying the bruises too much.

The tiredness starts to hit that afternoon, but that's fine. It IS afternoon and they had been up just past midnight fucking each other stupid.

Hmmm. He hopes Ed isn't too tired. He'd mentioned through a laugh that morning that his shoulder was sore from laying into Izzy so hard the night before. He'd laughed, kissing Izzy and calling him a needy little slut. Izzy had glowed, laughed, rubbed at Ed's shoulder and dug his thumbs in as Ed cuddled against his tummy. Ed had been tracing the edges of the marks that he could reach as they lounged that way.

Ed had laughed then, and Izzy had too. But... did Ed think he was needy? like, actually needy? Izzy knew he could be needy, but Ed had always said he liked that. He liked being wanted so much, that Izzy made him feel wanted and desired, that Izzy was always ready to jump on Ed's dick at a moment's notice, that he couldn't seem to get enough of Ed as Ed couldn't seem to get enough of Izzy. 

Okay, but... but... what if Ed did find him needy, and not always in the good way? Like, Izzy actually didn’t mind helping the crew out, particularly when some of them were absolute naturals and listened to everything Izzy said, actually took it on board. Izzy liked feeling like he was needed and wanted, that they respected him and his knowledge and experience, but... yeah, some days, he kinda wished they’d just run their fucking drills without needing him to watch their every move, could just do the shit they needed to do without being told all the time.

And Ed, Christ. Izzy loved Ed so much but he got annoyed at her needing him sometimes. Ed was constantly changing his mind, chasing after this whim and that, doing absolutely ridiculous shit. Sure, it always worked out, and it cemented just how brilliant Ed was to Izzy, but Christ alive, it annoyed the fuck out of Izzy some days.

....Ed and Izzy weren't even in love. Ed didn’t love Izzy the way Izzy loved him. Surely Ed got annoyed at how needy Izzy was.

Izzy just... he just wanted to know like, Ed wasn't mad at him. That he didn't think Izzy was annoying, and he'd had fun last night. God, what if Izzy had pushed him too far by continuing to ask for moremoremore? What if his arm was actually sore? It was funny that morning but maybe it was really bothering him today. Shit, that’d be just like him—Ed had started complaining about his knee a few months ago too—what if that was something Izzy had done too?

He kinda wanted to see Ed, then. Like, really badly. They hadn't made plans to see each other that night and Izzy had the last watch, but it was pretty normal for them to hangout about half the nights of the week. But... hmm. Jack had been sailing with them the previous few weeks; Ed hadn’t had a night alone in weeks. He probably wouldn’t mind a night alone, certainly didn’t need Izzy coming in with his… *emotions*. (he hadn't said as much, but Izzy knew.  ....Izzy didn't know, but okay, maybe he was spiralling a little bit, checking the same number of barrels in the hold over and over again, forgetting what his count was halfway through each time).

And anyway, poor Izzy is standing there, suddenly doubting everything. A thousand questions that really amounted to "am I too much???" swirling in his stressed lil head. 

He was clenching his jaw so hard that he was starting to get a headache behind his right eye. Ed always poked his jaw when he noticed Izzy doing that, sometimes laughed and used it as an excuse to shove his fingers in Izzy mouth. "Protecting your teeth, baby" he'd joke sometimes, pulling Izzy's cheek in weird directions, just to be a pest. Sometimes he'd use the fingers in his mouth for.... other purposes

anyway, Izzy spiralling. He goes back to his room.

For the first time in months, he doesn't breathe a sigh of relief when he shuts out the world.

He's usually SO GLAD when he gets to his room. He's spent all day around the crew and shit, and here he can just… relax. Enjoy the darkness, the quiet.

But now? The room is empty. and dark. It doesn’t feel safe. It feels… empty.

That's fine, Ed usually asks for him around sunset.

But the sun sets and he tenses, half-hopeful, every time he hears the sound of someone walking near his room. No knock comes.

Izzy changes out of his clothes, puts on his other set, these ones a little cleaner. The bruises look amazing, Ed will be thrilled. Knowing him, he'll probably rub against them gently, then the fucker will bite them because it's funny to watch Izzy huff and squirm. 

He's all clean now. But his stomach is tight and he's not hungry.

And nobody has knocked on his door.

Ed's probably just busy....

Or maybe he just needs a break from Izzy. Maybe he just needs a quiet night. Last night had been intense, and Izzy knew it took a lot out of Ed sometimes. Sometimes he needed to decompress. Months ago, when Izzy had heard him say that for the first time, and had made excuses to go. Ed had huffed and pulled him by the vest to sit his ass back down, Ed meant "decompress as in smoke with you, not be left alone with my own miserable thoughts".

Maybe he needs a break from Izzy.

That's fine.

Izzy is fine.

Eventually, someone opened his door—Ed never fucking knocked, and it didn’t usually bother Izzy, but tonight it fucking *did*. Izzy is sitting stiffly at his desk, trying to have a Normal and Relaxing Evening Damn It. He's picking at his dinner that he’d brought back to his room. 

He almost doesn't want to turn to look at him. He could show Ed he's all Independent. He doesn't rely on Ed for his comfort. Hell, he doesn't need comfort, he's strong and capable of taking care of his own emotions, thank you! Not to mention, if he needs to be comforted afterwards... Maybe Ed will go easier on him. And Izzy doesn't want that. Izzy wants to keep doing all the weird and intense shit they're doing. He wants to do more. Wants to go harder.

God. Does that make him a freak? Or more of a freak? He knew the stuff he liked was weird. He'd never tried it with any of the whores he'd slept with... He knew how the crew would talk if they *knew*. 

If what he liked was normal and okay, people wouldn't talk. If they knew Israel Hands, first mate to Blackbeard, the bastard they respected and feared, liked to bend over like this, *loved* the ways that Ed hurt him, brought him to his knees and degraded him… Well, they wouldn’t respect him anymore. If Izzy was the one giving the pain, it wouldn't be as big of a deal.

Shit.

He really did like some fucked up stuff, didn't he? What kind of person liked to be hit while having sex? What kind of person begged for harder hits across the backs of their thighs? What kind of person liked a little blood in their fucking, loved the burn and the ache? What kind of person came without permission when someone worked them up and *finally*, after what felt like hours, spat in their mouth? That was some real fucked up shit. God, and he sometimes... sometimes... when he was really far under... he'd call Ed "Daddy". Not always. He never meant to, it just... sorta.... slipped out.

But Izzy didn't even like his father! Gross! He'd never thought of his father that way, what the fuck!! So why did he sometimes call Ed "Daddy"?

Ed clears his throat.

Ed's there, acting all... fine. And Normal. He was thinking of going here, and the weather was perfect for it, shouldn’t take them more than a day or two, and sorry he hadn’t seen Izzy all day, there’d been endless distractions and drama from a few of those new blokes they’d picked up a few weeks back, anyway, did Izzy wanna hang out that night?

"Nah, I'm okay. I'm... gonna have an early night, I think."

"Oh. Yeah. That's fair. Totally cool, man." Ed sounds a bit funny. He doesn't sound relieved, like Izzy expects. "Tomorrow night then?"

"Uh, yeah. Maybe. I'll... I'm pretty tired, I'll have to see."

"oh. Yeah. Cool. That's cool."

SO. Izzy goes to bed early that night.

He does not sleep well.

Next day, much of the same. He's feeling brittle and fragile, and he's snapped at everyone, even Charlie, who is by far Izzy’s favourite crew member, and his head hurts because he slept like shit and he clenched his jaw real bad when he did. 

He hasn't heard from Ed. 

Sure, he hasn't gone to find Ed either. But he's trying not to be needy. He can handle his own feelings. 

....He just... he wishes he didn't feel so gross and disgusting for calling Ed "Daddy" in the heat of the moment. And did he have to cry just before he came? God, so pathetic. And Ed's shoulder was probably still fucked. Had Ed even had fun?? Had Izzy given him what he wanted from that? Like, sure, Ed had come (twice) but... was he just... humouring Izzy?

The day passes miserably. He keeps pressing his bruises, and biting his tongue when he does because it stops tears springing to his eyes.

Gross. He's going to cry again??? Well, that made him feel more pathetic. God, he was so stupid.

This whole thing was so stupid.

He goes back to his room.

When it comes time to eat, he struggles to swallow it, even though what Cook’s made is actually pretty decent. It keeps getting caught in his chest. 

Ed comes to his door again.

Ed launches into a story about his day, about this place Jack had said was worth a visit, that maybe they should consider getting a cat for the ship because there were rats, and Ed wondered if rats could be trained, and wouldn’t that be fucking cool, to train the rats to attack people, just set out a plank and the rats would take care of the rest, and yeah, actually, he was gonna try that, yeah, never mind the cat idea, this was way better.

Izzy hums as Ed talks, doesn't say anything. The tightness in his chest eases a little as Ed is talking to him the same way he always does. Ed doesn't... doesn't sound mad at him. He doesn't sound like he's sick of Izzy and thinks he's needy and gross and awful.

Eventually, Ed stops for a breath, exhales heavily. "Shit, sorry, I've been talking at you for like... fifteen minutes straight. Don't think I took a breath there."

"You gasped just before you asked if rats could be trained to attack for you." Izzy feels miserable, but a tiny tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he says that. 

"Oh cool, okay, one breath in fifteen minutes, that's not bad, right? Reckon I could make a decent swimmer, Izzy? S’longer than you, I reckon." 

"ha."

Ed's voice gets softer, gentler. "How're you feeling? Sleep okay last night?" 

Izzy swallows. He wants to bite out some excuse, find some way to end this conversation, before he can annoy Ed. 

He must be silent for longer than he thinks. 

"Iz?" 

Ed so rarely calls him that, unless he's trying to annoy him. Sometimes he'll call him that after Izzy calls him "Daddy" too... 

"Um. No, I didn't really sleep well." Izzy finally chokes the words out. He's impressed at how normal he sounds. That sounded normal, right??

Ed is silent for a long moment. "Hey, uh. Wanna crack into that fancy wine we got last week?" Something is off in his voice. 

Izzy's gut drops. 

This is it. Ed is going to end things. He wants to soften the blow on Izzy with liquor. 

Izzy wants to make up an excuse, a reason why he can't, but his ears are roaring and he's gonna be sick. Eventually he agrees, light and easy.

Izzy doesn't know what to do with himself, says he’ll go get the wine so Ed can get comfortable. 

He takes a swig of it as he makes his way back to Ed’s cabin. Another one just before he knocks on Ed’s door.

Ed looks good, legs propped up on the desk. God, he always looks good. Nervous, a bit hesitant. 

"Hey."

"Hey." 

Izzy doesn't think to move to let him inside.

"Uh, wanna come in?" Ed asks eventually. 

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Sure."

Izzy stands helplessly just inside the door. Ed’s standing, and Izzy doesn’t know if he should sit down across the desk, or if they should go sit on Ed’s bed; they often sprawl there, but usually much later in the night. Besides, Izzy isn’t there for… for *that* tonight… This is… This is the end.

Izzy isn't sure conversation between the two of them has ever been so stilted. Eventually, Izzy sets the wine down on Ed’s desk, pours them both a drink.

When he turns around, Ed is standing an arms length away, looking so sad. 

"Can I... hug you?" Ed asks tentatively. 

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This is it. He's gonna hug Izzy, try to soften the blow, surely. 

Izzy nods mutely, even though he wants to be sick. 

The hug is awkward, and Izzy's arms feel wooden as he rests his hands on Ed's hips. He keeps expecting Ed to let go. Ed doesn't. Instead, he takes a big breath in... exhales long and slow. 

And Izzy doesn't know what happens, but something in him just breaks.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying so hard to stop the stupid tears. He pushes away from Ed, or tries to. Ed lets out a little sound that could almost be described as "wounded". He pulls Izzy back in. 

Izzy is shaking, and trying so so hard to keep it together. He's trying so goddamn hard and Ed is just holding him, and it's so stiff and weird, and Izzy is going to fucking break if Ed doesn't let go of him soon, he needs to get out of there, but Ed is still holding him and--

"hey, hey, it's okay...." Ed is murmuring against the spot where his jaw and ear meet. "I'm here, I've got you." 

And Izzy isn't crying, but he can't stop shaking, and his knees feel weak and standing is so hard and Ed is trying to pull them back towards the bed, not letting go of him.

Izzy isn't really sure how they make it those few steps, but Ed is pulling him onto the bed, shifting him so that Izzy is basically cradled against him, his legs thrown over Ed's thighs. The whole time, his other arm doesn't leave Izzy's shoulder, not until they're settled on the edge of the bed. Izzy can't stop shaking, and fuck he's crying now, not a lot, but he's sniffling and his nose is stuffy, and he can't quite breathe right. And Ed is just holding holding holding him. 

"It's okay, I'm here. It's okay, I'm here. You're okay. You're safe. You're so good, Iz. You're so fucking good."

And it's so stupid, it's so fucking stupid, but every time he thinks he's hit the final breaking point, he splinters again. Ed just keeps holding him, and saying sweet words and kisses his temple and now his hands are running through Izzy's hair, blunt but calloused fingertips running over his scalp.

Izzy expects to sob. He feels like his chest is cracking open, and he's still wanting to be sick. But he doesn't sob. Tears just start running down his cheeks, and they won't stop. He's given up (for the moment) trying to push Ed away, Ed's grip on his shoulder is so tight, it's almost like Ed needs to hold Izzy as much as Izzy needs to be held. 

Ed keeps pressing kisses to the side of his head, the top of it, holding Izzy harder even than the way Ed holds him down and fucks him. 

Izzy finally manages to get a hold of his emotions, is able to somewhat stem the tears. Afterall, if Ed is here to end things.... he... he'd rather get it over with.

"Sorry," Izzy chokes, sitting up a little more and furiously rubbing at his leaky eyes with the heels of his palms. "I dunno what's wrong, just. It's stupid." He laughs, but it's empty. 

Ed narrows his eyes at him. "Izzy..."

Izzy gives a tight smile, shifts back a little to put some space between them. "Sorry, shouldn't have done that. But uh, thanks?" 

Ed is looking at him weirdly. "What?" 

Izzy shakes his head quickly, as if he's shaking off the sadness, the tears. He smiles, or tries to. "Sorry, um. Why'd you want the wine? Do you... need to talk about anything?"

Ed blinks. "I... should I... not? Want the fancy wine?" 

"Well, I dunno. I just wanna say... I've... appreciated. Everything we've done. And everything you've shown me. It was... uh. Really cool."

Really cool. Wow. What a ringing endorsement. 

Ed blinks again. The silence stretches.

"What the fuck is going on?" Ed asks, voice almost squawking the way it does whenever he's mad or confused.

Izzy isn't sure what to say. How to word it. Words aren't his thing, those are Ed's. He wishes Ed would just start the whole "hey, it's been really great what we've been doing but...." 

But Ed isn't saying that. He's just looking confused, annoyed--oh god, he's looking annoyed. Any of the warm feelings Izzy hadn't even known were filling him dropped back to ice. Ed was annoyed at him. Fuck. Shit. Fuck, shit. 

"I'm sorry," Izzy finally says, closing his eyes. 

"For what?" 

"I..." 

Before Izzy can fumble his way through more words, Ed is yanking him forward again and pulling him back into Ed's arms.

This time Izzy sobs.

Two days--in many ways, it feels like two decades--worth of tears start forcing their way through his chest and throat. He's crying, snotting against Ed's shirt, and the sounds he's making are so gross and big and ugly, and Izzy hates it, and hates that they won't stop, and that he just feels so stupid, and weak, and pathetic, and stupid, and pathetic, and needy, and fucked up and broken. 

He barely realises it but he's just saying he's sorry, over and over and over, and Ed is holding him, rocking him a little, telling him every time that it's okay, it's all okay, he promises. 

Ed's lower back must be hurting him because he shifts them further up the bed when Izzy calms for a brief moment. Ed still won't let go, just lies back against the blankets and pulls Izzy against him, keeps Izzy against him by wrapping both legs tightly around him.

When Izzy finally calms, his head is throbbing. And Ed is still there. Ed pushes up a little, pushes until he's sitting. Holds Izzy's face in both of his hands, wiping the damp hair at his temples, wiping the tears that keep leaking down Izzy's sore face, presses kisses to his forehead and lips. 

"Oh Iz," Ed whispers, pulling him back in. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Through tears, Ed finally coaxes words out of Izzy. How shitty he's felt the past two days. How gross and awful he feels. How, fuck, how he wishes his stupid mouth hadn't told Ed that because he loves what they do and he doesn't want them to stop just because he's feeling gross. How he hates how fucked up he is. 

....How he's sure Ed is here to end things with him. How he's sure Ed thinks he's a pest, and Izzy's stupid feelings of being gross and fucked up are a bother.

And Ed is just so very "what in the actual fuck??? Ending what we do???? are you insane? Did I hit you too hard the other night? We have rules against anything hitting your face or head for a reason, but did I somehow do it accidentally??" He probably doesn't have the language to know about "drop" per se, but he totally knows the feelings that Izzy is talking about. How sometimes he'll crawl into bed, stare off into space, wonder what the fuck is wrong with him that hitting someone gets him so fucking hard. How seeing those marks on Izzy, hearing him cry out in pain makes Ed feel lightheaded with power and arousal. Like, he knows he's fucked in the head, but yeah, he always feels kinda shitty after they do this stuff. But after a few days, he's usually okay again. He usually tries to see Izzy as much as he can the few days after, because it comforts him. Izzy is always so fucking happy to see him, and usually still glowing from the fuckery they got up to. And it's harder to condemn himself, to hate himself, when Izzy seems so delighted at what they do. Izzy doesn't hate him for doing dark, fucked up stuff to him. Ed isn't evil, or a monster. Izzy still likes him.

And he tells Izzy all of his... admits he feels a bit weird and clingy... how he's always asking to see Izzy every night for a few nights after they've gone hard. Yeah, he knows it's not super badass pirate of him, but like, the day after Izzy called Ed "Daddy" for the first time, Ed had had a panic attack about What That Said About Him and whether he was even worse than his dickhead of a dad. 

Once the adrenaline has worn off, he always beats himself up. And he feels bad that he hasn't told Izzy all this, but he didn't want Izzy to think he didn't like what they did. He just sometimes needed a few days to feel okay again. He didn't want to stop what they did, and he always worried that if he told Izzy about these feelings, maybe Izzy would want to stop. Izzy was always so soft and doting with him, didn't like Ed to suffer, which, by the way, Ed found totally adorable.

so. YAY. Communication. Izzy curls against him and cries a little more, and Ed keeps telling him he's so good, he's so good, he's amazing and, he loves him, and----

shit.

well, he hadn't meant that. wait, no, like, he meant it. he just... hadn't meant to tell Izzy yet, because... like, as he said, weird and clingy, and he knew Izzy liked him but.... Ed was probably seeing something that wasn’t there and---

Izzy kisses him, shuts Ed's anxious ramblings up. Whispers he loves him too.

It's not the sexiest either of them have ever felt. But they're soon peeling off clothes, and pressing into Izzy, and it's sweet and gentle at first, but then Ed's fingers brush over the bruises at the back of Izzy's thighs when he goes to move Izzy's leg higher around his waist, and... Izzy gasps and hisses. Ed grins, digs his fingers in a little, enjoying the sounds Izzy makes and the way he tightens around Ed like that... 

And yeah, they'll definitely have to talk more later, but they're at least being honest with each other about how they feel after these things and want to continue and maybe next time... well, next time, they make plans to see each other for the next few nights. Just in case.