#i mean they spent a good few hours making out and talking and frotting on a public path and have some scrapes

[izzy-b-hands]

Kraken Era Blackhands that tumbles into the promise of Steddyhands? why not. it happens here anyway lmao

---

"Don't make it weird," Ed mutters, shifting Izzy onto his back. "You're lighter than I remember."

"I doubt that," Izzy says, letting his head loll forward over Ed's shoulder. His arms wrap around Ed's chest, and his legs at Ed's waist.

"No, you are," Ed grunts. "Frenchie?"

"Yeah?" Frenchie jogs up from behind them. "Raid over?"

"Absolutely not," Ed scoffs. "Go get Fang and Ivan from the ship. I should have brought them and Jim instead."

"I'm here at least," Jim interjects. "Hey, his foot is still bl-"

"I'm aware," Ed snaps. "I need to carry Izzy back while you lot get started."

"Uh," Frenchie frowns. "Not to have Fang or Ivan carry Izzy back?"

"Don't question me," Ed continues. "Not now, not ever."

"Are you just mad because you stepped on Izzy's foot accidentally and now-"

"Move, both of you," Ed charges past them back down the path, head down like a battering ram.

They step aside, and Izzy fights off a giggle. What else can he do with all of it but laugh? It's that or cry, and that wouldn't be taken very well by anyone.

"Stop wiggling," Ed commands. "Izzy. Iz! Israel!"

He drops off of Ed's back into the dirt, cackling.

"Stop," Ed says sternly, but his lip wobbles.

"I'm trying," Izzy gasps.

"You aren't," Ed bites his bottom lip, but a giggle escapes. "Stop it!"

Izzy gives in and rolls nearly face down on the path, stomach aching from laughing.

"Fine then, I'll haul you back like this!"

Ed's hands grab his ankles, rolling him onto his back before dragging him.

"Fuck," Ed snorts. "I'm gonna crack your skull open on a rock."

He drops to the ground, covers his hands, and laughs.

"Thank you for stopping," Izzy pants, barely fighting off another giggle fit. "This takes me back though."

Ed lifts his head and nods. "Fuck. I'll get you back."

Izzy pats the dirt beside him. "Let the rest of them find us. Either Jim and Frenchie will wind up back here, or Fang and Ivan will come looking."

"Yeah," Ed sighs and lays by him. "But we were gonna go raid that small encampment on the other-"

"Ed," Izzy interrupts. "It's abandoned. I'm almost certain. The Kraken has done well to earn the fear of everyone and everything near here. If they can find a way to head elsewhere, they have. It's been like that for a good while now..."

Ed sighs, then scoffs, then grumbles which turns into a scream muffled in his hands.

"Ed?"

"How did I do this again?!" Ed says miserably. "I speed ran it this time too! Even faster than when I was Blackbeard. Now there's nothing going on, nothing exciting, nothing new or different, AGAIN!"

He wants to say something, but he doesn't know what would be best.

"Iz," Ed sits up. "I don't. I don't think I want to die."

"That's good to hear," Izzy drags himself up despite a persistent dizziness. "I don't think I want to die either. Not right now, at least."

"I want him back," Ed continues. "And I want our crew again, and-"

Ed turns to him. "I know you and Stede hate each other. I know."

"I'd hate him less if he took any of it seriously," Izzy says. "He knows he could die, right? Because despite having nearly died more than once now, he seems to not get it. It's concerning, and it effects everyone-"

"I know," Ed interrupts. "I'm. Going to ask something of you. I'm banking on your loyalty."

"I'll help you find fucking Bonnet," Izzy grumbles. "I'm tired, Ed. If he makes you happy, we'll find him. You want another party to go to? We'll find one. If you want it, I will do my damnedest to find it. Besides, rarely have I had reason to say no to you or question you if it didn't also affect the crew, so..."

"Really?" Ed asks. "And you'll stay, after?"

"What is your obsession with keeping both of us?" Izzy scoffs.

"I don't want to 'keep' either of you," Ed scoffs back. "Why wouldn't I want you both around if I like both of you, if I lo-"

Ed pauses. "Oh. Oh fuck."

"Oh no," Izzy says. "Not now. Ed-"

But then he's in Ed's lap, gently pulled over and helped to sit comfortably despite his foot still bleeding away, and maybe what Ed's suggesting might not be so bad.

--

"They had this," Frenchie says, and sets their bounty down on the galley table.

"This is a piece of string," Ivan remarks, nudging it with a finger. "And three coins. That I'm fairly sure aren't in use anywhere anymore."

"They also had this scarf they didn't need," Jim lays the floral purple scarf down. "And some oranges."

"Boss might like the scarf," Fang says. "And we can always use more oranges. The string..."

"Never know when we might need some string," Frenchie offers.

"Exactly!" Fang smiles. "And the coins might be of interest to a collector. All in all not bad for-oh, how many did you kill?"

"None," Jim replies. "It's like, three families and a few single old people there. They made us lunch, actually."

"Then we told them who we were and what we were supposed to be doing," Frenchie says. "And we came to the agreement, once Ed and Izzy didn't come back, to just have lunch and they'd offer up what they could if we'd leave them alone."

"Diplomatic," Fang says. "Where are Ed and Izzy then?"

"They aren't here?" Jim asks.

"No," Ivan replies slowly. "Fuck."

"I think we ought to put away the loot first," Frenchie says hesitantly, watching for reactions. "Find out where to put the string. Eat an orange or two. The scarf and coins we can set aside for Ed."

"A nap would be good too," Fang says. "So we don't get tired looking for them. Easier to get hurt that way."

"Rum will help us sleep better," Ivan adds. "Jim, shall we-"

"Fuck yes," Jim grins and leads the way to the pantry.

--

"They'll come back," Izzy yawns. "You're cold, let me give you my vest..."

"I'm fine," Ed mumbles. "I could put my shirt back on if I wanted."

"Hm. Yeah," Izzy snuggles into his bare chest. "I figured they'd walk in on us midway through."

"Me too," Ed sighs. "Ah well. More time to plan out things, figure out where to start looking for Stede..."

A fingertip traces the length of his jaw. "And to enjoy this. I missed this, Iz. I missed..."

"Don't worry about putting words too it," Izzy says. "Not now. It fucked us up the last time, doing that, remember?"

"Things are different now," Ed replies. "We're different now. That could be different too."

He'll already be sharing Ed with Stede. That's already a huge difference.

The emotions feel too huge to tackle now though, as the sun sets and they huddle into the brush near the path.

"I'm not good at any of this," Izzy keeps his eyes shut, face half pressed against Ed. "You know that."

"I know," Ed says. "But you'll try?"

"I want to be better."

The words are barely audible, even to him, but Ed hears it. He knows when Ed pulls him closer and tighter.

"I know you do. Me too."

--

"We were supposed to go find something," Frenchie says, bumping into Jim. "Shit, Ed and Izzy."

"Those are someones," Fang corrects, grabbing a new rum bottle from the latest box. "Here, you're nearly empty."

"Hey," Jim slings an arm over Frenchie's shoulders. "I'm gonna tell Ivan how cute Olu is. You wanna join us?"

Frenchie nods. "Hang on, I needed to-ah, there we go. More rum!"

"More rum!"

#text post #spoiler alert no they will not remember to go find ed and izzy but that's ok bc they're fine #i mean they spent a good few hours making out and talking and frotting on a public path and have some scrapes #and Izzy's foot has...well. probably stopped bleeding on its own or the dirt has stifled it so they're fine! #long post

[unfolded73]

Monday Morning, Seven A.M. (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary:  The morning after the first time David sleeps over at Ray's (sometime between Pregnancy Test and Asbestos Fest). Rated E, 3176 words

No point to this fic other than fluffy porn, guys. (ao3 link)

________________

Patrick doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that David is in bed with him — he can feel it in the dip of the mattress, in the soft sound of another person breathing, in the way that a body can be aware of another body close by, from the heat and the electricity of it. He smiles, so ridiculously happy that David spent the night that his lips are curving up into a wide grin before he can quite control it.

This is only the second time Patrick has woken up with David in bed with him, and the first time at Stevie’s was cut short by the abrupt realization that they either needed to throw their clothes on fast and get out of there, or risk Stevie coming back and finding them still in her bed. This time, Patrick can take the time to appreciate it. It’s Monday, and the store is closed today, so neither of them have anywhere they have to be.

He turns and opens his eyes and reaches for his phone on the nightstand to check the time: 06:47. Several hours before David would want to wake up on his day off. Patrick could probably get up and go for a hike or a jog and come back to find David still sleeping.

He started hiking early in the morning after college, not coincidentally around the same time that Rachel started routinely sleeping over at his apartment. He’d wake up next to her, warm and soft in his bed, and something told him to move, to get up, to get away. He supposes it’s a life-long habit now, to be an early riser — a good habit — but that doesn’t mean he can’t deviate from it sometimes. Like now, when the last thing he wants to do is leave this warm bed with David Rose in it.

Patrick rolls onto his side, his eyes drinking in the sight of David’s dark hair against the pillowcase. David showered the night before and let his hair air-dry, and the soft curls on top of his head are arresting. He didn’t realize David’s hair was so curly when it wasn’t styled. Reaching out, Patrick touches his hair, his fingers slipping into the soft strands as he studies David’s face in repose: dark eyelashes, dark stubble noticeably thicker than the night before, breaths slow and deep as he dreams. Patrick’s heart clenches with affection for him.

As if David can hear Patrick’s thoughts, he snuffles, his eyelids showing the movement of his eyes underneath. He smacks his lips and then rolls onto his side, away from Patrick. Wincing, Patrick pulls his hand away from David’s hair, figuring the hair petting must’ve been annoying. He tries not to take it as a personal rebuke. David probably doesn’t want to be pawed at right now, that’s all, he tells himself. He takes a moment to be relieved that David didn’t catch him watching him sleep like some kind of love-sick… something.

Then David mutters something that Patrick can’t make out.

“What?” Patrick whispers.

“Spoon me,” David slurs. Patrick isn’t sure if he’s even awake, but either way the request (demand?) is very cute. Cautiously, Patrick scoots closer, extremely aware of every point of contact between his body and David’s, even though they’re both wearing pajamas. Neither of them thought the idea of sleeping naked was a good one, not with Ray in the house.

When Patrick returned home with his overnight bag (and a radically different perspective on sex) from that night at Stevie’s, he immediately ran into Ray and his infinite curiosity for Patrick’s social life. When it became clear from Patrick’s fumbling responses that Patrick and David had spent the night in Stevie’s vacated apartment, Ray seemed genuinely hurt at the idea that they hadn’t felt comfortable sharing the bed Patrick was renting. “David is welcome to spend the night here with you anytime, Patrick,” Ray said with a pouting frown.

So here they are. Ray was out on a date the previous evening but presumably he returned home at some point, and in a few hours might begin seeing clients in the house. It occurs to Patrick that he and David should probably vacate the premises before that happens, lest they have to do a walk of shame of sorts past Ray’s latest photography client.

Still a little uncertain, Patrick snakes his arm around David’s middle, hesitantly bringing his hand to David’s chest, over his t-shirt. David puts his hand on top of Patrick’s, and that allows him to relax, pressing his chest more firmly against David’s back as they settle into this position. It’s nice. It’s more than nice. Patrick closes his eyes and presses his nose against David’s shoulder blade and inhales the scent of him. It makes him a little bit sleepy and also a little bit turned on, and he doesn’t know if he should act on either of those impulses right now.

David presses back, the round curve of his ass putting pressure against Patrick’s groin, and oh, okay, turned on is definitely winning.

“Mmm,” David hums, moving his ass with more purpose. “G’morning.”

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut, his cheeks flaming as he presses his face harder against David’s back, meanwhile shifting his hips back away from David’s ass so that his growing erection is hopefully not quite so obvious. “Morning.”

“Time is it?” David mumbles, his voice raspy.

“Almost seven.”

“What?” he replies with a whine. “Why are we awake?”

“This is when I wake up,” Patrick says, still feeling a little guilty.

“Because you’re a monster.” But David shifts back, finding Patrick’s erection again with his ass, blatantly rubbing up against him. Patrick clutches his fingers into David’s t-shirt, trying and failing to suppress a moan.

“Okay,” David says, sounding suddenly alert. “Since we’re awake anyway, I’m going to go brush my teeth, and then you should go brush your teeth, and then I suppose we can have morning sex.” He glances back at Patrick, a slanted smile on his face. “If you want.” Then without waiting for a reply, David is out of bed with a flurry of blankets. He pauses with the bedroom door open a crack, peering down the hall and looking for Ray, Patrick supposes. When David deems it safe, he leaves the room, pulling the door closed softly.

Rolling onto his back, Patrick blows out a long breath. He’s starting to wonder if he’ll ever get used to the way David makes him feel. Images of the sex they had last night, of the way David lay on top of him and rutted against him, everything between them slick and hot and perfect, fill Patrick’s mind. David was so matter-of-fact about it: “Frotting is excellent with enough lube,” he said as he flicked open the cap of the bottle he’d pulled out of his bag. “It’s underrated, frankly.” Patrick has to agree, at least based on how hard both of them came last night. He shivers at the memory, his eyes slipping closed and his hand straying below the covers to press against his hardening cock.

When David returns from the bathroom, Patrick gets up, knowing that his erection is probably obvious under his loose pajama bottoms. He doesn’t look at David, not sure if he wants to know if David notices it.

Once safely in the bathroom, he brushes his teeth and tries to think about unsexy things, willing his cock to settle down enough so that he can at least relieve himself. God, he doesn’t think his erections have been this out of control since he was a teenager. It’s infuriating and also… it’s really good. He loves being so attracted to someone that he can barely think about anything else. He loves the rush of being completely out of his mind with lust when he’s in bed with David (or occasionally, in the back room at the store). Somehow, their sexual relationship has slotted in easily with the romance and the friendship and the business partnership. He wonders if he should be worried about the fact that David is so important to him in so many ways, that he dominates his waking and sleeping hours in a way that no one ever has. He wonders how he’ll survive if it ever ends, if he has to face the black hole that David will leave with his absence.

David smiles at him when he comes back into the bedroom, and all of his worries evaporate as Patrick gets back into bed. David puts himself in Patrick’s space, waiting to be kissed, and so Patrick kisses him. He thinks about what it means as he enjoys the wet, soft press of David’s lips and tongue, that David is alert so early in the morning, just to have more time for this.

As if reading his mind, David says, “I’m not usually a morning sex person. I generally prefer sleep.”

“I appreciate that,” Patrick says with a smirk before kissing him again. God, he loves kissing David. He doesn’t even mind the beard-burn that inevitably shows up as redness on his chin from David’s course stubble.

Patrick lies back, pulling David over him, tangling their legs together as they continue to kiss.

“Mm,” David says. “I would always brush my teeth right before kissing if I could. There’s nothing better than kissing with freshly-brushed teeth.”

Chuckling, Patrick gives him a smacking kiss on the mouth. “Nothing?”

David looks up at the ceiling like he’s actually thinking about the answer. “Sex right after a shower is also very nice.”

Patrick moves as if to get up. “Oh, should I go shower right now?”

David doesn’t appear to take it as a joke. “If you’d be more comfortable, sure, but I’m not planning on doing anything that would require…” He hesitates. “I mean, there are sex acts that require more cleanliness than others.”

“Right.” Patrick tenses up a little at that. They haven’t talked much about anal sex yet. David took it off the table at Stevie’s without really giving a reason why, and Patrick still isn’t sure if it was for his own benefit or Patrick’s. He has to admit he was relieved that night, with so many other first times in front of him, to not have to worry about anal yet. Even if the idea of it (and watching porn featuring it) does turn him on.

“Not that we ever have to…” David sighs, like he’s frustrated with himself for being vague. “We don’t ever have to have anal sex if you aren’t into it. There are lots of other things we can do that I also like very much.”

“I appreciate that,” Patrick says, kissing him again to delay saying the next part. “But I am into it. I do want to… with you.”

David kisses him harder, teeth grazing his lower lip, and Patrick suspects that David is more pleased with that answer than he’s going to admit out loud. It gives Patrick the courage to say more. He pulls away and clears his throat.

“Do you… is there a way you prefer it?” Patrick asks.

Smirking, David responds, “Are you asking if I’m a top or a bottom?”

“I guess I am, yeah.” Patrick hopes that’s not inherently offensive. He knows enough to know there are some offensive stereotypes around the kind of sex certain types of queer men like, but he isn’t sure if he knows how to navigate those topics without inadvertently setting a foot wrong.

“I’m vers. We can try it either way. Or both, if you…” David squeezes his eyes shut. “I mean, I don’t want to assume you haven’t… obviously sex with a woman can involve anal. I’ve been pegged very successfully by a woman in a strap-on.”

Patrick’s eyes widen at that image, but then he quickly realizes it’s Stevie he’s picturing with David, and he blinks to try to dispel the mental picture. “It can,” Patrick agrees, feeling hopelessly inexperienced again. “But I haven’t.”

David just grins, undeterred by Patrick’s lack of experience. “So, there’s no pressure, or timeline, but I’m very excited to explore with you. To find out what you like.”

His breath catching, Patrick blurts out, “Like, now?”

Scrunching up his nose, David shakes his head. “Let’s wait until we have more time, and privacy.”

Patrick nods; that’s sensible. “Yeah.” He laughs nervously. “I think Ray has a poker game on Thursday.”

David’s responding grin his pure sex. “Okay.” He’s a little breathless when he says it, and Patrick can’t not kiss him after that.

“I’m excited to explore with you, too,” he whispers against David’s lips when they break apart.

“Yeah?” It comes out as a breath, almost a sigh. David reaches to touch his face, and it feels like his fingers are trembling just a bit.

“Yeah.” He stretches up and mouths at David’s neck, sucking at the skin. “I want that with you. I want…”

“Tell me,” David says, and he sounds desperate. David slides a hand down Patrick’s chest and over the front of his pajama bottoms, stroking his cock through the fabric. “Tell me what you want.”

Patrick groans. “I want to fuck you. Want you to fuck me,” he says before he can second-guess it.

“Yes,” David hisses, stroking harder and then kissing him messily. “Fuck, I can’t wait,” David adds and then immediately grimaces. “I mean, I can wait, for as long as you need to, I just—”

Laughing, Patrick touches David's cheek to try to calm him down. “I understood what you meant.” He bucks his hips against David’s hand, because regardless of what they might do on Thursday, right now they’re both turned on and should probably get on with it before Ray gets out of bed.

David seems to come to the same realization, because he reaches for the lube on the bedside table. “Get your cock out for me,” he says, and Patrick gasps at how brazen it is, even as his hands scramble to push his pajamas down, his cock springing up and pointing toward the ceiling. Not wasting any time, David tosses the lube aside and grips Patrick’s cock in his slick fist, long fingers enveloping him as he begins to slowly stroke. He tightens his hand and Patrick has to bite down on a whimper.

“Is it good?” David asks, probably more because he’s looking for praise than because he’s checking in. They’ve done handjobs before, although on the heels of the conversation they were having, Patrick feels like he’s already close.

“It’s so good, David,” he slurs, his eyes slipping closed as he loses himself to the rhythm of it. “Everything you do is so good.”

David hums, his hand speeding up a bit, working the head more thoroughly with each stroke. “Think about what it’s gonna feel like to fuck me, Patrick. Work me open and put your cock inside me and fuck me. Do you want that?”

His hips rise up off the bed to thrust into David’s hand, his head swimming with want, like he’s overflowing with desire from every pore. “Yes. God, yes, David—” He comes without warning then, David’s words and David’s hand pushing him over the edge unexpectedly, and Patrick bites the palm of his own hand in an attempt to be quiet.

When he finally pries his eyelids open, David is pulling tissues from the box to wipe his hand off, so Patrick does the same to get most of the mess off of his abdomen. His hand hurts, and he looks dumbly at the indentations of his own teeth in the meat of his palm.

“You’re hot when you come,” David says, shimmying his shoulders against the sheets. “I like watching it.” He grins, stretching his spine. “And making it happen. Obviously.”

“You’re pretty hot when you come too,” Patrick says, inching his pajamas up over his hips and rolling toward David. “Speaking of which…” He reaches for the drawstring of David’s pants, intending to return the favor.

“Patrick, are you up?” The door starts to open, and Patrick hurriedly pulls the covers over them. “Oh, and David! I’m glad you stayed over. I told Patrick—”

“Can I help you, Ray?” Patrick knows his voice sounds testy, but he figures he’s justified.

“Just checking to see if you wanted to join me for breakfast, but I’ll leave you and David be.” And then, horribly, he winks before backing out of the room.

“At least he didn’t come in while I was giving you a handjob,” David says with an eye roll.

Patrick winces. “Did that totally kill the mood?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be able to come now, knowing Ray might just waltz into the room.” He smirks. “You’ll just have to make it up to me later.”

“I promise I will,” Patrick says seriously. He leans forward and kisses David. “Maybe tomorrow after we close the store.”

“Maybe,” David says, as if he isn’t always game for fooling around in the back of the store. “But definitely Thursday.”

“Definitely Thursday,” Patrick repeats, kissing him again. “What was it you said you wanted me to do?” he murmurs, and a part of him can’t believe what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Work you open and put my cock inside you?”

David groans. “I’m trying to calm down enough that I can walk out of here with some dignity intact, and that’s not really helping.”

“Sorry,” Patrick says with a wide grin that makes it clear he isn’t sorry at all. Now that he feels ready to take that step in their sex life, he wants it to happen as soon as possible. Thursday feels like an eternity away.

“No you’re not.” David says, rolling his eyes again, but Patrick can tell that he’s pleased.

“Do you want me to go see if Ray has the fixings for pancakes?” Patrick asks with a kiss to David’s cheek.

“Mm, yes please.”

Patrick pauses as he gets out of bed. “I’m really glad you slept over.”

“Yeah, because you got a bonus morning handjob out of it,” David says.

“Not just because I got a bonus morning handjob out of it.” Patrick gets up, marveling at how easy it’s becoming to talk with David about sex. “Although I didn’t hate that.”

“Of course you didn’t; I’m amazing at morning handjobs,” David calls just as Patrick opens the bedroom door and comes face-to-face with Ray as he’s coming out of his own bedroom.

Ray raises an eyebrow, because he definitely heard that. Patrick sighs and blushes. “Can I help you make breakfast, Ray?”

“Certainly,” Ray says. “Is David staying to eat?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” He starts down the stairs ahead of Patrick. “Wouldn’t want to deprive him of food if he’s worked up an appetite this morning.”

Patrick resists the urge to duck into the linen closet to hide, and he follows Ray down the stairs to find the pancake mix.

#schitt's creek #david x patrick #david x patrick fic #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick ff #my fic