Work Text:
It’s late at Queen Anne's Veterinary Clinic. Ed is the last one working, as always, and he tries to catch up on paperwork and accounting shit that Izzy—as if he were the owner, pfft, that's Ed, thank you—demanded he sign for tomorrow. He hates paperwork, with all his heart, almost as much as he hates the stupid owners of those poor little dogs deformed by inbreeding. Can’t they just adopt a stray like a normal fucking person? Just—today wasn’t great, ok? He is decidedly not grumpy. This is professional burnout, or whatever. Today’s consults were a tarantula, a fucking python, a parrot that kept trying to bite him, a french bulldog who needed surgery to be able to breathe, and zero puppies, so he is entitled to some moping.
The bell above the door rings (didn’t he lock when he closed?), and Ed fears the day is about to get worse. Scratch that, it’s better, amazingly fucking better, because Ed lifts his gaze from the papers and sees entering through the door the most handsome, sparkling, and weird guy he has ever laid eyes on. Blond hair, around his age, strong features, clean shaven face and a look of worry in those pretty, mysterious hazel eyes. He’s wearing a tuxedo, of all things, and one of his arms is cradling a hat with a fluffy, white thing inside.
“Is that a real rabbit?” he says in disbelief. Why, at 5 pm, is there—“Wait, are you a magician?”
“Hello, my good sir, good afternoon,” says the mystery man in black tie, brightly. “To answer both of your questions, yes, this is Wolf the Rabbit, and I’m the Majestic Mr. Thomas, but you can call me Stede, at your service. I have to say, I’m certainly glad that you are still open. You see, this is a matter of some urgency, and the emergency clinic is a long trip from here.”
“The Majestic... Ok, yes.” Ed tries to make sense of any part of that statement—like why the rabbit’s name is Wolf—but something about the guy makes him want to go with the flow. “Hello, good afternoon. Sorry, I was surprised. We often receive a variety of pets, and there’s this guy that brings his seagull, so the rabbit is not the weirdest thing I’ve seen, but still it’s surprising. Especially not… in a hat. My name is Ed, and don’t worry about the time. Wolf, you said? Ok, what seems to be the matter?”
“My dear assistant Wolf, he’s refusing to work, if that makes sense? We have a show later today, and since this morning he hasn’t been doing his part during rehearsal. I’m worried he’s burned out. He usually has kind eyes, but now he looks tired.”
The guy, Stede, has lifted the hat close to his own head so that two sets of eyes, one human, one rabbit are focused on Ed. He can’t believe what he sees. Actually, it’s hard to believe anything that is happening in the perceptible world at the moment. Here he is, listening to a hot magician tell him he’s worried that his pet, sorry, his assistant, might be stressed. Ed would be annoyed, but nothing like this has ever happened to him, so he’s inclined to go with it. Let’s vibe with the weirdness of the day, he thinks, then match its freak and all that. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, he’ll end up learning a dirty magic trick or two. A guy can hope, ok?
“Ok, let’s see what’s going on, then. Please, wait for me in Exam Room 1. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Ohthankyousomuch, Edward. Did you hear that, Wolf? Everything is going to be fine, just like I said.” Stede hurries to the exam room with a smile on his face.
Ed finds himself endeared by the sweetness of such a lunatic guy as he watches them go into the exam room. Ed decides that he doesn't need any more interruptions, so he goes to lock the door and turn the OPEN sign to CLOSED, again apparently. Just as he gets there, a loud rasp of knuckles rattles the glass door. Oh fuck, what is it with today? Outside is the wrong shade of blond hair, an unkempt mustache, and a set of blue and slightly unfocused eyes.
“Jack? What the fuck are you doing here, man?” His stupid good for nothing ex Jack is about to blow his chances with the magician, right? Fucking great.
“Hello, hot stuff, how’s my Eddie? Open the door so I can kiss you,” Jack yells outside the door, smiling.
“I’m not your fucking Eddie, Jack, and you are not going to kiss me. You cheated on me, remember?”
“Come on, baby, don’t be like that. I miss you.” Jack whines and makes a puppy eyes attempt. It’s not even close.
“Fuck you, Jack. Leave me alone.” Ed is tired of this. It’s happened once every month since they broke up; the whole thing is getting old. He turns to leave the door.
“Wait, wait, listen. I know you’re mad. But I just wanted to talk—we deserve that, right? Don’t we deserve proper closure?”
Ed sighs. If one more conversation can bring an end to all this nonsense then fine, by all means. He can’t block the guy in real life (he totally would if he could), so he lets him in. “Sit here, stay silent, don’t touch anything, don’t move, and don’t breathe, if you want to do me a solid. I’ll see my last patient, and we can talk, ok?”
“Clear as day, honeybun,” says Jack with a grin, slumping and spreading out on a chair.
Ugh. Ed shudders at the awful pet name. What did he see in Jack? He’s better without him. Maybe he was lonely, and he suspects that he doesn't know how to have a healthy relationship, but he’s definitely better without Jack. And there’s a handsome man in the exam room waiting, so he tries to shake off the ugly feeling Jack pours onto him, squaring his shoulders and setting his face in a friendly but seductive smile, if that’s possible. Maybe he’s just making a weird face. Better not to overthink, just enter the room.
“Everything alright?” Stede asks, and he sounds worried. Yep, it tracks—the room is not soundproof, and Jack certainly isn’t quiet.
“Yes, everything is fine. That is just a… a friend. He can wait,” Ed says, watching Stede intently. But the gaze that he gets in return is so deep and knowing that he can’t avoid blushing a little and averting his eyes. Who is this man, and what is he doing to him? Since when has Ed blushed? He goes to grab his equipment—yes, work, that will fix it Focus.
So there he is, checking out the healthy rabbit and, more subtly, he hopes, Stede.
“I'm gonna check on you now, ok? Are you a friend, Wolf?” That little twitch of the nose will have to do as consent.
Wolf seems completely fine: strong heartbeat, no fever, good muscle tone, nice calves, soft hair…fur. Soft fur. Fuck.
“How are his eating habits?” Ed asks, standing up and looking at Stede, who is now eyeing the door with a slight frown.
“Uhm, sorry, what was that?”
“His diet? Is he eating ok?”
“Oh, yes, not a problem with that. We follow a strict diet full of nutrients, designed by a veterinary chef. And Wolf here never refuses a meal,” answers Stede with a proud and beautiful smile as if having a “veterinary chef” is completely normal. Ed’s not sure what to say to thatand must be making a stupid face, because Stede blushes as red as his pocket square and starts to stammer a little.
“Yes, yes, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm a bit new to the magic scene, and taking good care of my crew is as important as what happens on the stage, to me at least. They are like a family to me nowadays, even when they must just see me as their employer,” Stede says, looking at his hands.
Oh, he is ashamed, and Ed can’t have that.
“Well, I think it’s sweet that you worry about your family, human and nonhuman alike. Even if it’s overkill and mental. I like it.” A look of surprise and joy lights up Stede's face, and Ed suddenly realizes he would give anything to achieve that again. He needs to make sure he at least gets Stede’s number, or his address for a carrier pigeon, or the direction to his crystal ball. He doesn't know how magicians prefer to be contacted.
“Wolf here looks really good, he's lucky to have you. And maybe I can help. What's his trick? The one he is refusing to do?”
“Oh, you'll see soon enough.” And Ed has no idea what that means, but the tone Stede used to say it leaves him dealing with some technical difficulties. All that’s left is horny-Ed on autopilot.
“So,” Ed asks, looking at him through his lashes, “Do—do you have another assistant, a Mrs. Majestic maybe?” Yeah, he can be cool and use a bit of a misdirection, just watch him.
“Oh no, no one like that I’m afraid. In the beginning I was hoping my ex-wife would take up that mantle but… well, when I resigned from my office job and invested in this career, she told me she hates magicians and found more entertainment and wonder in the company of other men. And, as it turns out, so do I. So we are amicably divorced, and I’m still trying to find a willing assistant to help with my show. I just haven’t found time for the auditions yet.”
Ed can be an assistant. He can assist Stede any time, no problems. Pfft, he can totally pull out a glittery snug dress, a feather in his hair, high heels. It’s not that different from his outfit at the club, so. He’d even let Stede split him in half on stage. And off stage.
He’s just found out that Stede is gay and probably single. He needs to close the deal before Jack does something stupid. So, he tries to deliver the mental image of him in a dress to Stede, lowering his voice and tilting his head.
“You know, Wolf probably needs to rest. And if you need a hand, maybe I can…” He doesn’t need to finish the phrase; he knows he’s made his point, image delivered and downloaded, because Stede is even more red and visibly gulping for air. He looks about to say something when they hear a loud crash from the reception area. Right on fucking cue. Ed’s about to kill his ex.
Jack, like the idiot he is, has opened Stede’s ancient looking case—was that there before?—and removed everything he could find: a-sweartogod-magic wand, a rainbow of silk hankies, fresh flowers, candles of different sizes, a mile of rope—are those handcuffs?—and dozens of mysterious little bottles and vials. And if covering the floor of reception with stuff wasn’t enough, he decided it was a good decision to drink the contents of the biggest, weirdest bottle. It sure as hell wasn’t fucking rum, because Jack is lying on the floor, eyes barely open and mumbling incoherences.
Ed is trying to understand the sight before him when Stede pops his head up from behind him to look.
“I think his face is turning green,” he says, calmly and with a hint of amusement.
“Oh my god, it is.” What the fuck is going on? “Stede, what was that stuff? Should I call 911?”
“Oh no, don’t worry. It’s doing what it’s supposed to. It’s insurance against ill-intended curious people, an anti-douchebag potion, you can say. Disgusting but harmless. Give it a minute, he’ll be better.”
Jacks lifts his head a little, trying to talk. “Ed, Eddiiieee, babe, I need you, papa’s getting lonely…”
But before he can say anything more to make Ed sick, Wolf appears beside him, eyeing him closely.
“Ah! What? Quit eying me, bird.”
“Rabbit,” corrects Stede.
“Whatever. Get lost, bird!” Jack says, while trying to hit Wolf with the empty bottle. Wolf dodges, jumps to Jack's chest, and starts kicking his face relentlessly with his back legs.
Ed can't move and can’t stop looking. The scene makes him remember those times when Jack tried to drag him to clandestine cockfight events. Huh, karma is real, he guesses.
“FUCK! GET OFF ME! GET IT OFF MY FACE! ED!”
Jack starts to get up as Wolf hops down and moves towards Stede.
“Fuck this, fuck this place. I don't need you and your freak clinic and your stupid feelings. Fuck you, E—” He doesn’t get to finish. Instead, he sprints through the door, landing on his knees on the sidewalk and vomiting on the curb.
“Oh, dear,” Stede says under his breath.
“Huh. That potion seemed effective.”
“Oh, certainly. He deserved it. Although he is your friend, it seems, and I'm sorry for that.”
“He wasn’t my friend; he was an annoying ex-boyfriend. And I can see by the smile you are trying to hide that you're not sorry.”
“No, I'm not.”
They might have smiled stupidly at each other forever if their attention wasn’t drawn back to Wolf's hopping around.
“Look at that, Wolf, you’re better!” Stede cradles the rabbit in his arms and mutters something quietly—a compliment, by the sound of it. “Oh, Ed, it seems I forgot my hat in the exam room, would you be a dear and fetch it for us?”
“Ehm, yeah, sure, mate. Be right back.”
Ed’s head is swimming with too much information, surprise, wonder, and horniness. He doesn’t fully understand what just happened. When he enters the exam room, he is sure of two things: Jack won’t be a bother anymore, and that riddle of a man needs to be in his life until he's learned every nook, cranny, and mystery he has. Maybe that’s a lifelong project, who’s to say?
He grabs the hat and takes a few deep breaths. What’s next is easy. He just needs to get Stede’s number and spend the rest of his afternoon cleaning up the mess Jack left (and fuck him because that’s not new).
He goes to reception and…it doesn't make sense, although to be fair sense had flown out the door when Stede entered the clinic. Everything is spotless, like nothing ever happened. When and how did Stede gather everything up so quickly? There's no evidence of Jack being there; he isn’t even on the sidewalk anymore.
The magician’s case is closed up again at Stede’s feet, who is standing in the center of the room, smiling. It looks like the light from the sunset outside is pouring from him instead. He has Wolf in one arm, a bouquet of flowers in the other, and he’s extending them to Ed.
“Maybe this is silly, but I had these for my act, and now I think they would do much better here, with you.”
Ed is just floating, swaying between waves of nonsense, splashes of color and the smell of lavender and peppermint. No one gives him flowers. No one has ever given him something beautiful, nor brought so much chaos and wonder in the space of a single hour.
“Thank you,” is all he can whisper. Stede gives him an even bigger smile. And a dimple. God, Ed's totally gone.
Ed shakes himself a little and returns the hat. Wolf hops in and makes himself comfortable. “There you go, little guy, I’m glad you’re better,” he says as a goodbye. He could swear the rabbit winks at him.
Stede hands him a check—when the fuck did he sign that? Ed’s feeling a bit faint.
“Thank you so much for your service, Ed. I hope this covers the consultation. Oh, and we would love to see you at tonight’s show. I have reserved a front row seat, best in the house. Here, this is the ticket and my card. Please, if you attend, ask for me at the end of the show. I’d like to take you to dinner, as a thank you. I have a reservation in a lovely restaurant, if you are amenable. I would love to continue our conversation.”
“Yeah,” says Ed hoarsely. “Yeah, mate, love to. To see the show and to go to dinner, yes.” Ah, all pretense of coolness has left him, it seems.
“Perfect. See you tonight, Edward,” says Stede, taking Ed’s hand and kissing the back of it softly. The gesture tingles in Ed's spine and lights something in his brain, so he suddenly has to ask.
“Stede?”
“Yes, dar— Ed?”
“How did you know that you needed to save the theater seat and make the reservation for tonight?”
“Uh, well.” Stede blushes a little, and then he simply says, “A magician never reveals his secrets.”