Stede throws his head back against the sofa, arching his back, those last three words echoing around in his head. And the only thing he can think to say back is—

“I’m yours,” he gasps out, fingers digging into the meat of Ed’s ass—

And then he stops. Blinks, processing. He hadn’t mean to say that out loud.

He also means it. Absolutely, 100% means it. They’re both angry. Both hurt. And he, at least, still loves Ed unlike he’s ever loved anything before in his life.

Stede lifts his head and blinks up at him, hair disheveled, lips red from kissing, eyes wide and dark and wanting.

“I’m yours,” he says again. With purpose this time.