"And you're sure it's safe?" Stede asks cautiously, setting his sword belt down on his desk and turning to face Izzy. The man shrugs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "That's not very comforting."
"It looks like the one I used back in the day but better." Izzy says shortly, strolling into the ensuite and coming back with a towel and a basin of water. "That's as glowing a recommendation as you're going to f*cking get, Bonnet." He raises an eyebrow. "What? Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?"
Stede dithers, staring between Izzy and the contraption in his hands. The man on the Republic had called it a skin writer. Izzy just called it a tattoo gun. Neither of them seemed to keen on elaborating further, but Stede was all too aware that he needed some kind of distraction lest he go spare from waiting for some kind of word about Edward.
"Alright." He sighs, undoing the buttons of his shirt and peeling it off his shoulders. Izzy watches with an expression he can't quite decipher as he reveals inch after inch of unmarked skin. "Where should I...?"
"Lie down on the f*cking chaise." Izzy mutters, gesturing to the couch. Stede does as he's told, watching curiously as Izzy kneels in front of him, placing the basin and the gun within reach. "You have any idea what you want?"
"Not quite." Stede admits ruefully. He brings a hand up to the 'X' tattoo on Izzy's cheekbone and the man's eyelids flutter shut before he seems to catch himself and they snap open again. "Is that okay? If I don't know what I want?"
"You're the one who wanted to buy the f*cking thing, Bonnet." He bites out. "You're telling me you haven't thought about it? Not once?"
"I have!" Stede protests. "I have but...there are so many options." He zeroes in on another of Izzy's tattoos, the spades on his wrist. It's not usually visible, covered by his glove most of the time, but Izzy had foregone the gloves during this shore leave. It was August in the Caribbean, after all, the heat was unbearable. "What does that one mean?"
"No s'possed to mean anything." Izzy grumbles, touching the thing self consciously. "I just wanted to cover something else up." Stede's eyes alight with interest and Izzy almost groans. "I'm not telling you about that."
"Please?"
"Absolutely f*cking not."
"Well." Stede crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry that you feel as though there are things you can't say to me, Izzy. I really hoped that we had grown closer since Ed..." He trails off, a pained expression crossing his face.
"f*cking hell." Izzy curses under his breath. "It wasn't Ed's name, so you can stop writing fanfiction in your f*ckin' head about it."
"Fanfiction?" Stede echoed with a frown. "Who taught you that word?" Izzy opens his mouth to answer but Stede holds up a hand. "Actually, I don't want to know." He studies the spade. "So you used it to cover something up? A name?"
"Basically, yeah." Izzy gestures imperiously and Stede settles deeper into the side of the chaise. "There was a boy. A long f*cking time ago, on Hornigold's ship." He rolls his eyes at Stede's interested look. "Yeah, alright, Bonnet. I'm sure you're shocked and appalled, but he was good." He presses his lips together, staring down at the floor. "I killed him."
"Why?"
"Blackbeard asked me to." He answers simply and Stede's face drains of color. Izzy shrugs again, sticking the needle into the gun and dipping it into the little jar of black ink. "Don't make a big f*cking deal about it. It wasn't the worst thing he'd asked of me and you've killed people too."
"Yes, but—"
"Shut up and close your eyes." Izzy growls, and Stede does as he's told. The first drag of the needle against his skin hurts worse than he expected, but the pain eases with the brandy swimming in his veins. "I'll put a f*cking flower, if you want. Since you don't seem to have a clue what you want it to be."
"Really?" Stede gasps, trying not to flinch away from the sting of the needle. "You know flowers?" He pries and the next stab of the needle is particularly vicious.
"I said to shut the f*ck up." Izzy snaps, wiping at the blood welling up along the tattoo. "I know plenty, Bonnet." His eyes are focused and intent on the spot right on Stede's pectoral, over his heart. "More than you'll ever know, that's for f*cking sure."
"There's no call to be nasty, Izzy." Stede mumbles, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "I thought you were warming up to me." Izzy huffs out a laugh, hands moving with practiced ease, and the tattoo doesn't look half bad, in Stede's opinion. "What kind of flower is that, anyway?"
"Just a rose." He purses his lips. "Edward has one on his arse."
"No, he doesn't." Stede makes a face, trying not to squirm away from the needle. "I'd have..." He trails off as Izzy raises an eyebrow at him. "Never mind."
"Good boy." Izzy says without looking up and Stede's mouth goes dry. He swallows thickly, fingers digging into the sides of the chaise. He feels dizzy and hot, a familiar feeling around Izzy that he's never been able to put a name to and now can't quite shake. "I think that's as good as it's gonna get, Bonnet." Izzy sits back on his haunches, wiping away the excess blood. He studies it, frowning, then nods sharply. "You can look."
Stede opens his eyes, glancing down at his chest. The rose is simple, no thorns and the stem is short, but it's...not quite right. Not to his eye at least.
"Can you add...I don't know, a bit more detail?" He asks hopefully and Izzy shoots him an exasperated look. "It's a tattoo, isn't it? Shouldn't it be special?"
"Details." Izzy mutters balefully, reaching for the jar of ink again. "Need to get closer for details." He stands, and without warning, flings his good leg over Stede's lap. He straddles the man's thighs, and the weight is surprisingly solid and grounding. Stede swallows again, hands fluttering nervously, unsure of where to put them. "Put your hands on my hips."
"Excuse me?"
"Put. Your. Hands. On. My. Hips." Izzy grinds out. "You're going to knock me over if you keep f*cking wriggling."
"Right, right." Stede does as he's told, letting his eyes drift over the expanse of Izzy's skin. It's not smooth, by any means, scarred and tattooed and puckered in places. But the sight still has Stede's mouth watering. Izzy is lean and sinewy, all muscle and bone and hard edges. He's like a wild animal, something that you could break your fingers on if you were too careless.
The image of Izzy's hands around his throat is not entirely unpleasant.
He settles his hands on the man's hips, taking a deep breath to stave away the erection he knows will be forthcoming. He's not ashamed to admit he finds the man attractive, but the thought of Izzy knowing how much is a completely different story.
"Better?"
"Much, thanks." His tone is not kind by any means, but there's a hint of amusem*nt to it that makes Stede grin. "Keep your chest still, Bonnet."
"I will."
The minutes tick by and Izzy works with a single minded determination. Stede, on the other hand, cannot concentrate for the life of him. The heat of Izzy's body is all consuming and the gentle rock of his hips has Stede's eyes fluttering.
"Are you...okay?" Izzy asks, pulling the needle back. "Not that I care, but I'd like to know if you're going to f*cking pass out from the pain."
"Oh, I'm quite alright." Stede says with a shaky laugh. "Bit distracted."
"Distracted?" Izzy echoes, brow furrowing. "By what?" Stede's co*ck twitches in his trousers and his eyes go wide. The older man's face goes blank, devoid of all emotion, but the hand not holding the gun curls into a fist at his side.
"Oh, nothing." He tries to brush it off but he knows that Izzy is too smart not to notice.
"You're f*cking hard, Bonnet." He sounds disgusted, like the idea of it is repulsive, but he doesn't move away. He stays, astride Stede's thighs, hand hovering over his chest, ready to begin again.
"I can't help it." Stede protests, cheeks pink. "I can't—"
"Control yourself." Izzy rolls his eyes, bringing the needle back down to his skin. Stede lets his head fall back, taking a deep breath, and then another. "Bonnet."
"Sorry! I can't..." His co*ck twitches again and Izzy's mouth flattens into a line. "I'm trying, but—"
"Fine."
"What?"
"I said f*cking fine." Izzy snaps, pulling the needle away. "Clearly you can't f*cking concentrate in this f*cking state. We'll fix it."
"Fix it?!" Stede sounds more aghast than he means to and Izzy looks at him as though he's lost his mind. "That is to say, we don't have to do that. I can manage, really."
"Do you want to get it right, Bonnet?" His gaze is piercing and Stede can see the way the man's trousers strain over his own erection. Something hot and primal roars in his chest. "Answer the question."
"Yes." He manages, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I want to get it right."
"Fine." Izzy repeats, the word heavy between them. "Then I'll take care of it."
He sets the tattoo gun on the table, pushing the basin of bloody water away. He undoes the buttons on Stede's trousers, pulling his co*ck out. Stede watches, mouth agape, as Izzy begins to stroke.
"I'm not going to bite, Bonnet." He scoffs, thumb rubbing over the leaking head. "Not unless you want me to." And it's all the warning Stede gets before Izzy takes him down to the root, tongue and throat working him like a f*cking professional.
"Oh." He gasps, hands coming up to clutch at the sides of the chaise. His eyes are wide, and his co*ck pulses on Izzy's tongue. He's going to come embarrassingly quickly.
"f*ck my face." Izzy says when he pulls off, voice hoarse. "Or are you just going to lay there?" He's teasing, the corners of his mouth upturned, and Stede feels dizzy with the rush of it.
"f*ck." Stede breathes, gripping the base of his co*ck and feeding it back into Izzy's mouth. His hips rock, testing, and the man just takes it. Stede lets his head fall back again, letting himself chase the heat and the wetness.
His hand comes up to rest on Izzy's hair and the man growls, a low noise in the back of his throat. Stede takes that as permission, gripping the hair at the base of his skull and thrusting. He's not rough, per se, but he's not careful either.
Izzy moans around him, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs. He sucks him down greedily, throat fluttering around his length. It's too much, it's not enough, it's everything he's been waiting for, and when he looks down, he can see the man's eyes glazed over, pupils blown.
"I'm going to—"
Izzy hums his approval, and Stede lets his head fall back again. He f*cks into the tight heat of Izzy's throat, once, twice, and he's spilling. Izzy swallows every drop, licking him clean.
"Oh, goodness." Stede laughs breathlessly, tucking himself back into his pants. "I think that took care of things rather nicely."
"f*cking dandy." Izzy snorts, pushing himself off of the chaise. He sets the bowl and skin writer aside, wiping his hands with the cloth.
"Wait, aren't you going to finish?" Stede asks, frowning. He doesn't want to be left with a half done tattoo, after all. A wicked smirk pulls at Izzy's lips.
"I'm already done, Bonnet." He quips, walking across the cabin to empty the basin into the ocean. Stede looks down at his chest. Sure enough, the rose is done, in all its intricate detail.
"Then what was the point of the...you know."
"I f*cking felt like it." Izzy answers, turning back to face him. He's still smirking, looking irritatingly smug. "Is that a f*cking problem?"
"No." Stede shakes his head. "I didn't say that."
"Then get your sh*t together, Bonnet." Izzy snorts, picking up his sword belt and the money he'd left on the desk. "We're weighing anchor in an hour." He closes the door behind him, leaving Stede sitting on the couch, dumbfounded.
"Well." He murmurs, running a finger over the tattoo. "That was unexpected."
But he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. He'd always had a feeling that there was more to Izzy Hands than met the eye.
And now he was determined to find out just what else he could get out of the man.
