Stede has no idea what fever has worked its way into their systems—Ed's in particular—but he doesn't mind it in the slightest. Not with their hands working them both into a mutual frenzy, fingers and palms knocking into each other as they touch themselves and each other.

He leans his forehead back against Ed's and looks down between them, gasping and very nearly whining at the sight.

"God, Ed..."

He whispers it, the sound of Ed's name on his lips feeling so right he says it again. And again, the urgency increasing each time. He's so close.