Archive of Our Own

Oswald waited with a slowly building impatience in the expansive confines of the Van Dahl manor, fingers drumming on the arm of the plush, velvet armchair he had attempted to relax in. He was leaned back, one leg crossed over the other, chin in hand with elbow rested on the other arm of the chair. He had to abandon Edward, to leave him in the hands of the Dentist again, but he was assured that the only work that would be done would be what was described to him. Nothing would happen without his knowledge or say so, and he was free to check in on the process at any point.

Oswald exercised that right, having gone into the room on four different occasions to see how far along the torturer had gotten with the man who was currently strapped down to a chair by his wrists and chest. And each time the limping man would visit it would be the same: Edward trying to mumble something around The Dentist’s hands when they were in his mouth, or outright talking when they weren’t. The gassed man had been restrained so that he would stop pulling out the IV that had been inserted into his vein once his dress shirt was rolled up to his bicep. So far Edward Nygma could not be trusted when he was on laughing gas, the man getting much less subtle, but thinking he was being sneaky.

The dosage from the tank had already needed to be increased twice, Edward having a rather difficult head to get through to with the surgery aid.

It was all necessary though.
Even the gasses to attempt to put Edward under.
Everything was part of the process and Oswald had to accept that.

Oswald had even set three days of work aside for this one visit, making sure he was as undisturbed as possible. He would only handle business emergencies and nothing short of that. Anything less and it would be handled with deft and swift actions. He wouldn’t have chosen an entire three days off with no disturbances, but the Dentist recommended that someone be active presently for Edward on the first day, and the following two days could lessen in their doting until he was well enough for independence again.

Oswald’s eyes stared down at the floor, his once tapping fingers now much more still as he heavily pushed his thumbnail into the fabric beneath his fingertips, tracing a short line back and forth.

Eventually, the Dentist came out on his own, gloves removed and with about the least amount of blood Oswald had ever seen on him after being called to business.

“The procedure is complete.” Philip Miles informed Oswald as he rounded the corner, standing in the doorway while maintaining a polite distance. “I apologize for the extra time needed, Mr. Cobblepot. As you had seen… he has been something of a difficulty to work with.”

“And yet, it’s probably the most easy he’s been to work with.” Oswald stated with a joking grin. He had hoped that putting Edward under the influence of the gas would relax him somewhat and would hopefully not trigger some fight or flight response at having the Dentist knuckle deep in his mouth again with blades and drills. Considering this had been a battle in itself to have happen… being semi-conscious was certainly the best way to go. He unfolded his legs, sitting forward on the armchair as he was prepared to stand up. “Can I see him now? Is he completely finished?”

“He is currently finished and has been moved into the bed you’ve requested. My station is clear and you are free to visit him as you wish.” Philip allowed with his arms hanging stiffly at his sides with both hands closed. “He was falling asleep when he was laid down, so he may not respond if you call to him. I will stay present until he is confirmed stable, then it is once more in your hands, Mr. Cobblepot.”

“I’m aware that this is not typically what you do anymore, but I appreciate your participation in this matter.” Oswald extended his gratitude, rising from the chair, taking his cane that leaned on the outside of the furniture piece he had been occupying into his control.

The Dentist nodded politely, his face stony and neutral at the shared pleasantry. “It was interesting to have a patient so… cooperative again.”

“Even through his chatter?”

“It won’t be the first or last time I’ll need to work through someone’s confessions.”

Oswald’s head shifted slightly as the Dentist turned himself around to grab his operations kit behind the wall on the left side of the doorway he’d walked through, taking it in hand as he prepared to walk away.

“He may sleep peacefully for a few hours, he may only do it for a few minutes. He may go in and out of consciousness.” The trained once-professional listed off multiple ways the gas could effect Edward as it tangled with his procedure exhaustion. “If there are any ill reactions once I go, feel free to contact me again and I will return to assist where possible. Until then, you may find me in the kitchen.” Philip took himself and his kit down the right side of the hall, making his way to another room in order to relax for the time being. And a cup of coffee at that moment would be so refreshing.

Oswald had to check on Edward again, needing to be sure that the man was still safe and in one piece since he last poked his head in on the proceedings. Although Philip had reason, he had still betrayed him previously during a rather… frustrating time in his resurgence to the top. There would need to be quite a period of time before he went about allowing the Dentist the luxuries of being trusted again.

If ever.

The criminal kingpin made his way into the master bedroom, shutting the door behind himself to walk slowly over to his own bed. The room had an odd smell with it now, its natural scent mixed with the slight sterile smell of the hospital and the faint lingering odor of blood. Oswald nearly crept to get closer to the bed, able to see that Edward was resting on his side, one leg stretched long and straight while the other was bent and raised like he was attempting to step over something tall. His body was surrounded by pillows, anything to keep him off of his back to prevent blood from gathering in the back of his throat without anyone present. His arms were clutched at another pillow, holding it against his chest protectively. Edward’s cheeks were a blushed pink, the corners of his mouth red, and the lower half of his face beginning to puff out from the swelling left in the wake of the surgery’s trauma. His mouth was hung open, exposing the cotton pads shoved into the back corners of his mouth and also allowing a thin trail of blood-mixed drool to run off his swollen lower lip, onto the pillow he was passed out on.

The pillow would need to be replaced once his wounds begun to heal over.

Oswald let a small sigh escape him, letting his inflated-faced interest continue to sleep peacefully while he took a seat in a chair not far from the end of the bed. He would be there for any of the times Edward would wake, he would make sure of it.

It had taken four months in total to get to where they were since Edward’s teeth first began to give him issue. Oswald had learned that his friend had his lower wisdom teeth come in without issue in his early twenties. They erupted, they grew in, there was no need to have anything looked at. Now, over a decade later, the upper ones decided to make their move, but they were unable to break free from the gums. It was only recently that both men learned it was from the teeth growing in sideways, getting impacted in Ed’s jaw. It took a lot of convincing, but Oswald managed to get Edward to agree to letting the Dentist go back to work in his mouth, though this time for the power of good.

Odd to believe it was such a struggle to get him to agree to let the torturer play around in his mouth and relieve him of some dentin.

Oswald was waiting in the seat for about fifteen minutes when there was a stirring and whining from the bed. Though he didn’t officially move from his chair until he could hear talking from the four-poster furniture piece.

“Liddle toof worms won’ ge’ me.”

The crime lord’s brows dipped in the middle to reflect his confusion, moving over to the bed to take in Edward’s eyes opening and squinting at the room. His interest lived a life pulled between spectrums, head filled with thoughts of the morbidly curious and the criminally demented. Caught between an Ed and a Riddler place, really. Oswald could think that judging by the tone of voice that Riddler might’ve woken from the surgery, despite Ed having gone under the knife. It was somewhat difficult to make out who it was with the swelling and the cotton. “Tooth worms?”

“Burrow in mai teef… Stupi’ toof worms…”

Oswald’s head tilted as an amused grin pulled at his mouth. “You have tooth worms, do you?”

“No!” Riddler’s head snapped up, a small string of pink saliva slipped off his lower lip and hit the pillow. “They wan’ to though… They won’ ge’ me. I haf no teef. No teef, no worms.”

The Penguin raised a hand to his mouth, closing his eyes as he attempted to center himself at the sight of a ruffled Riddler angrily proud about his evasion of the… tooth worms. “Well, it’s a good thing we took out those dastardly teeth then, you’ll be much safer now.” He assured the other, sitting himself on the edge of the bed near his friend, patting his arm in a comforting way.

“Yef. I’m free of their dainger.” Riddler began to chuckle, it sounding odd behind his cotton pads that began to slip forward with his conversation.

Oswald couldn’t help but let a smile slip, finding the gassed Riddler rather charming at the moment. He did what he could to not laugh, but the smile was falling from his control. “I’m very glad to hear that.”

“Ozwa…” Riddler’s eyes got wider, hands drifting with little coordination, catching one side of Oswald’s face with one hand, though ran the backside of his fingers into the other man’s chin before he figured out the depth and moved it to hold the other side. “Ozwa… oh no… you have teef…!” His eyes drifted to the side, seeing a figure phase in and out of his vision.

“If he has teeth, he could have the worms!” Ed was standing nearby at the side of the bed, equally effected by the gases, but their body was beginning to work through enough of it that manifesting both of his sides was becoming clear again.

“I…” Breathe, Oswald. Breathe. Don’t laugh at him. Don’t laugh. “I do… I do have teeth. Many of them.”

“Oh… But Ozwa… the worms…!”

Oswald’s brows slid upwards, feeling his face heat up slightly being held in the hands of someone he held rather dearly. And the amount of effort he was trying to expend in order to take Riddler’s gas-induced concern seriously was high. “I know… It’s a risk. I get checked regularly though, I promise, I have no tooth worms.”

“We have to check him! What if they missed them?! What if they missed the worms?!” Ed asked his other half in something of a panic, staring at Oswald from his place, crawling onto the bed to get closer to their host. “What if they don’t know what to look for?”

“Are you sure…? Open your mouf, I’m goin’ to look.” Riddler’s determination to be sure pushed forward, wanting to be entirely certain that Oswald was safe from the sneaky tooth burrowers. “Say aaaahhhhhh.”

Oswald had to take Riddler’s wrists with his hands when thumbs tried to coax his mouth open, removing the hands off his face to better control the situation. “I promise you, Riddler, I was checked very recently. No tooth worms. Perfect dental health.” Give or take an incredibly deep cleaning that wasn’t greatly comfortable, but it did its job. He set Riddler’s hands on the mattress together, putting one of his own over them with a gentle patting.

“Of course his teeth are perfect…” Ed’s head dropped while he let out a long whine. “Look at his smile… it’s so pretty…” His head raised again as it was his turn to touch Oswald’s face, though his attention couldn’t be felt. “I miss our teeth.”

“He does smile preddy… I mif my teef…” Riddler lamented, raising his hands to feel his cheeks, brows dropping in disappointment. “We had a preddy smile too…”

Oswald noted how Riddler seemed to be acknowledging something, referring to himself as “we” again. “Is Ed around, Riddler? You can see him still?”

“Yeah.” Riddler answered at first, his eyes dropping into a glare. “Ed still haf teef too… Everyone has teef bu’ me!” He shouted in an offended way, his hands shooting into the air while he showed his distaste about the situation. “Tha’s rude. I hope Ed gets worms…”

Oswald’s head dipped as it rested in one of his hands, fingers covering his eyes while he attempted to maintain what composure he could. “Perhaps Ed will share his smile with you. He’s very nice like that, you may have your pretty smile back.” They thought his smile was nice though…? Hmm.

“He bedder… I deserf it. I did thif for him, I wan’ my smile…”

“Of course I’ll share!” Ed agreed with his other half and the current conversation, a look of shock across his face. “I’ll keep them until we switch. That way the worms can’t get them. When I’m in charge, then you’ll be me and then you’ll have the teeth and the smile.”

“Okay.” Riddler pouted as he listened to Ed, putting his head back down on the pillow with a yawn. “S’long as I ge’ my smile…” He made sure his needs were clearly stated, both his hands gripping the pillow tightly, his cotton pads having slid forward to nearly under his canines while the saliva dropping from his lip and onto his chin had taken on more of a solid red with less of the clear liquid visible in the chain.

Oswald noted the placement, seeing Riddler chew slightly on the pads, shifting his mouth around. “We need to put those pieces of gauze back, Riddler, you’ve spoken quite a bit.”

“Wha’ gauve?”

“The…” This was the most vulnerable and helpless he’d seen him in so long… When he’d lost his brilliance was now a close second, but this was its own situation and treat to experience. “The gauze, Riddler. The cotton in your mouth. You need to move it back onto your wounds again. You’ve got blood on your chin.”

“I don’!” He seemed insulted for Oswald to say such a thing. How would it even get there to begin with?!

“Why would he lie?! It’s Oz! It’s Ozzie. Ozzo. Ozzie-ozzie-oxenfree.” Ed got caught up in the pattern of Oswald’s nickname, though he had begun with a point.

“Wai’... do I have gauve in my mouf?” Riddler questioned, eyes on Oswald curiously, listening to Ed. It encouraged him to stick his fingers in his mouth, pulling out one of the cotton pads to stare at it. “Coddon isn’ red!” He was offended by the piece of fabric, about to toss it before Oswald grabbed his arm quickly, not about to have that happen in his room.

“Don’t you dare, Mister!” Oswald warned him, keeping his grip firm, though Riddler’s grip on the cotton pad loosened, having it fall to the sheets regardless. “Perfect.” The sheet would go with the pillow then. He retrieved the blood dampened gauze, throwing it out in a trashcan next to the bed. He couldn’t very well put it back in Riddler’s mouth, but now they needed another… Fantastic. “You stay still, stay here, and don’t you dare do that with the others.” He warned at first, pausing to consider his threats at the moment. “Or else I’ll tell the worms about Ed’s teeth.”

“You wouldn’ dare!” Riddler’s brows dropped, feeling betrayed that Oswald would even use such terrible words against him. “Why…? Why would you tell them…?!”

“Not Ozzzz… Not him! He can’t do this to us! He can’t! He wouldn’t do that! Not to our teeth!” Ed seemed just as distraught, leaning closer to Oswald in his spot on the bed with a heavy pout.

Oswald only recognized the weight of his threat with the worms when Riddler’s eyes began to water, sadness etched deep into his features, clutching at his pillow companion desperately. “You betrayed us, Oswa…! YOU’D TELL THEM!” His tears began to fall though his emotion quickly flicked over to anger, blood again dribbling onto his chin from the force of his words.

The crime lord held his hands up in his defense, seeing that perhaps… he’d gone a step too far. “No, no, no, no, no!” He tried to settle into the man with a panic settling in his chest. Lord, the last thing he needed was Riddler working through anesthesia and thinking he was any sort of enemy. Who knew what he’d think or do. “I apologize, Riddler! Truly, I do! It was just an empty threat! I told you I don’t have any worms, so how would I even contact them to say anything? I was making sure you’d stay still. I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” Seeing Ed cry was one thing, seeing Riddler cry was… an almost unsettling thing he hoped to keep out of his vision for as long as possible.

“It’s true… He doesn’t have worms.”

“We don’ know tha’.”

“Oooh, when has Ozzer ever let us down?”

“Now.”

“But it was fake!”

“Oh.”

Oswald let the one-sided conversation happen, reaching forward to rub a hand over Riddler’s bare forearm, still in his dress shirt, though his sleeves had been rolled up to make way for a saline drip earlier. “You trust me, don’t you? Both of you?”

“Of course we do…!” Ed’s projected figure rested a hand on Oswald’s shoulder, leaning into him affectionately.

“I guess…” Riddler was still pouting, not as won over by the test of commitment at the moment.

“You guess?” Oswald’s head pushed forward a little, leaning ahead to make a better physical show of his participation in the conversation. “You only guess you trust me? Nothing more than a guess?” His hand kept on the man’s forearm, maintaining contact to make that connection a little stronger. Harmless manipulation that harmed no one.

Riddler grumbled something, turning his face more into the pillow while his pout held firm from the initial betrayal.

“What was that?”

“I sai’ maybe more than a guess…” Riddler’s brows were tucked behind the frames of his glasses, having his own little pity party while he thought about the questions posed to him. “...Maybe we trus’ you a lot. Maybe.”

Oswald grinned, much more pleased with an answer like that. “Okay, then I’ll ask nicely this time. Leave the other red cotton in your mouth. I’ll be back with a new one for the other side.” And perhaps a cloth to clean up the blood spittle on his face… “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

“Wha’ do I ge’ if I do…?” Riddler’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously, looking for some sort of reimbursement for his promise. He was picking up on some gas-repressed habits then.

Oswald thought about it for a time, eyes skirting about the bed. “I… don’t know, what is it that you’d like?” Maybe ice cream or something to soothe his mouth? A treat of any kind? Maybe a more plush blanket or a crossword or something… What he wondered what would become of a crossword if Riddler or Ed tried to solve one in their current state.

Riddler’s head twisted up from the pillow, the darkened stain in the cover convincing Oswald that he might need to try and keep the man focused on one pillow, lest he need to replace a stack of them. “I wan’ a new hat.”

Oswald cracked another grin, finding that to be entirely reasonable. “Okay, a hat it is. Whatever kind or version of a style you want, you may have it.” There. Easy. A fine chapeau and the deal was sealed.

“Oh, oh! I’ve got one!”

“And!”

“Oh, there’s more to your demands is there?”

“We get to kiss him.”

“We wan’ a kiff.” Riddler stopped as he said the words, turning his attention to Ed. “Wai’... You do, or I do? Or do we do? Who’ doing thif?”

Oswald’s jaw dropped down from the rest of his skull, leaving his mouth hung open as he processed what else was being asked of him. How much gas did they use on him? “You… Or… one of you wants… a kiss?”

“Do we?”
“We do!”
“Yef, we do.”

“A hat and a kiss.” There were wilder things he could have demanded, but those were… quite the combination. Oswald merely nodded his head, glancing about the room as he did what he could to settle the near sea sick, stomach churning feeling in his gut while his heart seemed to try and get itself away from the nauseous, nearby organ by clawing its way up his throat. “I-I uh… I think I can manage that.”

“Okay. If’s a deal. I’ll behave.”

“Okay. I will… soon be back…” He spoke, rising off the bed which slid his hand off of Riddler’s arm automatically. “You, uhm… You relax, I will be back briefly.” Oswald removed himself from the room, losing track of what was around him when he made it to the kitchen before he really noticed, standing in the doorway for far too long before Zsasz’s cough got his attention. “I need a new gauze pad. He, uhm… Edward threw one of them out of his mouth.”

“Threw it… out of his mouth? Does he have like a prehensile tongue or what?” Zsasz questioned, picking over the specifics of the words chosen while Philip cracked open a case to hand Oswald a baggie of packages of gauze pads that could be used.

“I-” Oswald’s mouth pulled down into a frown, getting annoyed easily when several other emotions and confusing thoughts were already taking up a majority of his headspace. “You know what I mean! He took it from his mouth and threw it! Threw it out of his mouth!” He accepted the baggie, turning around quickly to get back to the matter at hand.

Either he was returning to another disappointing stain somewhere or he had a bargain to keep. He could also hope the gas clouded him enough still that either he’d be asleep or he’d forget. As the crime lord entered through the bedroom door he shut it again, noting the pair of brown eyes locked onto his appearance.

“I behaved!”

Drat.

“Oh, very good!” Oswald praised. The one time Riddler actually behaved and followed what he said to the letter. He couldn’t have broken the rules at least a little so he could still let him have the hat, but take the kiss away as a sort of punishment. “Let’s remove that other gauze pad then, might as well have them both the same, and then we’ll…”

“Ed can’ have the kiff, it’s mine.” Riddler spoke more to himself, less interested in the kiss itself and more interested in being able to keep something from Ed that he knew he wanted. That it was an affection from Oswald was just icing on his cake.

“Right.” Oswald attempted to repress a shaky breath, but it didn’t do him any good. He’d been working on shoving down or numbing some of his attraction to Edward over time, trying to ignore the pulls and the actions that would have him staring for a little too long. He did what he could to carefully set aside certain wants so that Edward wouldn’t feel the weight of his longing. Wouldn’t have to deal with his deeper need to have them side-by-side emotionally.

The black-haired man made his way back to the bed, prompting Riddler to open his mouth and fish out the second gauze pad. With that thrown out, he could only stare at the swollen-faced man in his bed who looked so damn proud of himself. Like the most smug cat who laid down the fattest mouse it could find as its kill before him. A kiss. That was it. One kiss from a drug-induced consent that apparently both sides could agree upon, though he’d been rejected by one or both of them in unison in the past. Sure. That wasn’t going to screw massively with his head later in a way he’d deeply regret, but… this could be his one chance. He wasn’t one to toss away a good business opportunity either, this was something he’d been curious about for so long and… this could be his one chance.

It’d be fine!
It was fine.

Riddler grinned still, raising a hand to tap his lips, about to say something before his brows slid upwards in the middle, not understanding what he was feeling. “Why isn’ this working…?” He questioned, gently pushing his fingers into his lips again. “Why doesn’ my mouf work?!” His finger pushes turned into careful slaps, his hand falling into his lap while he groaned.

“The numbing.”

“Wha’s the poin’ if I can’ feel it?!” Riddler was a little outraged that his steal from Ed wouldn’t be what he thought it might. “Thif is stupid.” He disapproved of, seeming genuinely upset by his mouth’s lack of feeling.

“A rain check then!” Oswald offered with some strained panic in his voice, fishing out the packages from the baggie. He fished out two, unwrapping one before encouraging Riddler to open his mouth. He didn’t think about that he should give his hands a good careful rinse before slotting the gauze into the other man’s mouth to catch the bleed, but he was a little overcome by the near-miss experience. “We’ll get you your hat at some point, and the kiss another time. How does that sound?” He bargained with him again, though hopefully by the time they got far enough beyond Edward’s healing that they’d both forget about it in their haze of the gas and Oswald would only be left with the nerves and the memory.

“Okay. Rain check.” Riddler agreed, allowing Oswald to place the cotton pads with no fuss or fight.

“You should try and sleep again, Riddler. You and Ed will need it to heal faster.” He did what he could to encourage them to fully settle down. If they slept then he had some time to panic on his own and to think everything over. The chipmunk-cheeked man laid his head down, grinding his teeth gently against the padding to soak them with saliva and have them feel somewhat more pliable to rest in place. He took off his glasses this time, setting them nearby and soon drifted off to sleep with no other word.

He was already getting what he wanted, there was no need to bargain for more.

Oswald waited until his mouth slacked open again, drooling his way through unconsciousness as Oswald slunk his way out of the room. He shut the door as quietly as he could before putting his back against the barrier and sinking to the floor.

He was supposed to have been getting over this! Getting beyond this! Not being pulled back in! He was supposed to be trying to give Edward the space he wanted, not…!

Oswald's head dropped back against the door with a soft thunk , staring into the crown molding with a hand moving upwards to hold his forehead.

It would be fine.
The gas would make this all a cloudy thought.
It’d all become an odd dream to him.

It’d become nothing.

Oswald spent a majority of his day in the room with folders and books in hand once the Dentist was dismissed, only slipping out in order to be sure food, comfort, or care needs would be met upon Edward’s next waking. Soups, liquids, mouth rinses, changing of gauze, pain medication, icepacks for pressing, or ice cubes to suck on with his cotton removed, Oswald provided anything that was needed. Rather, he coordinated what was needed, he had staff to physically retrieve or deliver items to him so he could better stay focused on the man in his bed.

He was going to be the sweet caretaker and he’d be the best at it!

That night he let Riddler keep his room, departing to occupy a guest bedroom where he had the privacy and space to have something of an emotional break after a rather long day. It had all been a lot on his head. At first, upon planning to procedure, he thought it couldn’t be a big deal. He didn’t think much could come from it. He knew his stance on them, he knew Ed and Riddler’s stances on him. It was one-sided and it was ridiculous to continuously pursue, but… there he was… He still used part of his day to watch Edward passed out on his mattress, taking in his features from afar. Sometimes he’d study him from closer up when he had to wake them, but chose to put it off for a minute or two at a time to have that peace to see Edward so relaxed. It played with his head. It did things to his stomach. Oswald had known very well that this still felt like a sensitive topic to him, that he was very capable of still hurting himself emotionally when he thought of it all too deeply.

Even up to weeks ago he was perfectly capable of clearing off a bookshelf with blurred vision and a restrained shout when ideas and memories sunk too far into the back corners of his mind.

Oswald remembered very clearly the few times Edward had pressed his thumb into the sore spot of his one-sided affections. When the other man grinded his heeled boot down onto why they couldn’t be one. He remembered each time how the rage boiled from the pit of his stomach through the rest of his body, he remembered the hate he felt every time. He remembered the heart ache Edward caused him each time and the feeling of rejection as well as abandonment.

Despite that, he could still push forward, hold his head up, treat them like a friend! He was an incredible person! He let them have their space! He let the emotion notions die!

So why was he being punished now with feelings of need again?!
WHY were his failings being thrown back in his face?!

Oswald dropped himself on the guest bed, cane toppling to the floor when the mattress was disturbed by his body, his hands pressed against his closed eyes, groaning before kicking his feet childishly in a dampened tantrum.

It wasn’t fair!
None of it was fair!

Even behaved he wasn’t given a break!
What more did he have to do?!
Or rather… what more did he have to take away?
Wasn’t he without enough already?

Wasn’t he alone and dejected enough to learn his lesson?

Maybe he stared a little too long sometimes.
Maybe he still marveled at Edward’s talents.
Maybe he thought of them into the night when he shouldn’t.
Maybe he made physical contact when words were more than enough.

Maybe he… just couldn’t keep himself far enough away.

The next morning, after some venting, Oswald’s eyes cracked open to the sunlight shining in through the guest bedroom window, the sun having been warming his face gently over the last two hours. Something that normally didn’t happen because of his constantly drawn curtains in the master bedroom. His focus was fixed on the window, feeling somewhat drained in his waking state, missing two audio cues at his door. It took the sleep clearing from his mind enough to hear the third set of knocks to realize someone was signaling him.

“What is it?” He no longer had to call ‘who’, the who didn’t matter. Normally it was a goon or staff coming to give him news, he needed to know the ‘what’ of a message. He still kept his face in the warmth of the sun. It wasn’t how he wanted to wake up each morning, but on a day when he felt somewhat lost internally… it was more relaxing than normal.

“Can I come in?”

Oswald’s head lifted at the voice, turning towards the door and abandoning his warm facial hug from the great big gas giant in the sky. “Uhm… Yes! Please, do come in, Edward.” The crime lord invited the other man in, not having expected his company when he should really be the one knocking on the other’s door to be sure he was still alive and hadn’t drown in any suddenly torn open mouth wounds during the night.

The door was opened slowly, a still very swollen-cheeked Edward walking into the room to lay eyes on the cane that had been left abandoned on the floor, several feet from where it had initially dropped last night. Oswald’s suit from yesterday had been tossed around, books lay scattered at one end of the room next to ceramic pieces he could only assume was once a decorative vase of some variety.

“Difficult evening?” Riddler questioned, tone revealing his identity to the man in the guest bed, his dark eyes scanning the room for any other potential signs of a classic Oswald outburst.

“You could say that.”

The tall man’s brows bounced up momentarily with an affirming hum, hands tucking behind his back while he stood several feet in from the bedroom’s doorway. His vision continued to study, finally moving onto Oswald in his silk pajamas under the covers of the bed he chose to stay in. “Why didn’t you have me put in here?”

“What?”

“A simple question, I think. Why put me in your room? I could’ve stayed in here.” Riddler pointed out, head lilting to the side and was so much more incredibly composed than he had been nearly 24 hours ago.

Oswald took a moment to consider the words, lips pushed together and his jaw adjusted while he swallowed down a small knot that began to form at the base of his throat. “It was a more comfortable environment, it would do you well while you recovered.”

“Oswald.” The bespectacled man spoke his name as thought he knew better of what he was being told, turning slightly to close the guest bedroom door and make his way closer to the mattress. “We both know Eddie had a mattress that would make even your worst couch look like a plush palace of a bed. Would you like to try again?”

“What I said isn’t incorrect.” Oswald shot back in a pointed tone, not willing to be called a liar under his own roof. Even when he was being secretive!

Or lying!

Riddler took in a long breath through his nose, letting his chest fill before the exhale dropped out of his mouth like he was disappointed. Not a sad kind of disappointed, like a parent catching their child coming home well after curfew kind of disappointed. “Then the perspective you’re using is incorrect. You’re trying to fool me, Oswald. I know you are.” He took several steps closer to the bed, now only five feet away, encroaching on the space to impose his presence better. What Oswald meant he wasn’t 100% sure, but he knew he wasn’t being given information correctly.

“If you get him to say his intentions, we might be in business.” Ed dug into the situation himself, standing behind Riddler and speaking over his shoulder as he too kept his eyes fixed on Oswald staring back at them. “He’s changed. We’ve both felt it, both seen it. We can’t ignore it.”

Oswald’s lower lip hovered away from his upper, his eyes bouncing down as he thought of the best way to present his case without having Riddler call him out for sweeping anything under the rug. “I know this procedure isn’t comfortable in itself, I had my wisdom teeth out many years ago. After your personal experiences with Philip though… I believed it best to put you in a more lived-in environment. Something that might feel more familiar.” They had walked through and been in the master bedroom enough times during the entirety of his mayoral campaign and reign, the room was full of good memories and even reminiscent of himself. Overall he hoped it would be a comfort, subconsciously it would be nice if it put him in Edward’s head.

“If it was for familiarity you could have moved me in here, this had been our room at one point.” Riddler hadn’t been a large fan of the room then and he still wasn’t when he used to live in the manor. Still, it would be just as familiar as Oswald’s bedroom, if not more.

“What if we’re looking at this all wrong? What if it’s not the room that needs to be what’s familiar?” Ed posed the question, walking about the room which had not been altered since they had left. Other than a few dents in the walls and the new mess on the floor… it was exactly how they had left it. “I’ll look into bodies, I’ll maintain records. I can only offer myself, in reflections I’m explored.”

The taller man’s eyes squinted ever so slightly at his other half asking him a riddle, knowing what he was getting at. An M.E. and oneself. Me. Oswald needed himself to be what was familiar. “This is about you again, isn’t it?” He questioned the man nesting still in the sheets, that he could be selfless while simultaneously self-centered was an absolute talent.

“I-I…” What was he supposed to say to that? Oswald swallowed thickly again as the small knot began to get larger, being pushed up from the base of his throat to just below the middle, his Adam’s apple bobbing over the difficult obstruction. “N-Not about me!” He put emphasis on what he considered to be a very important word in his sentence. “I… may have involved myself somewhat, but this was about you! You both! I just… I was attempting to show that you, as you’ve always been, are a top priority!” He floundered to save the situation, faltering under Riddler’s hard gaze. The staring was unnerving, though he couldn’t say it wasn’t softened by the chipmunk shaped lower half of his face. “Sh-Should you be talking so much anyway? Doesn’t your jaw hurt? Shouldn’t you be resting it?” The crime lord pressed, wanting to glaze over anything that could be seen as a poor move on his part.

“He doesn’t know we’ve changed too.” Ed pointed out, making his way to the side of the bed between the window and Oswald. “Can’t really blame him, we did put him through the ringer.” Though the rejection felt very necessary and justified at the time, something both of them could not find the ability to regret, Oswald had made quite a few personal adjustments for them. Maybe not full blown changes, but he had learned and practiced something that they’d told him.

Maybe the harsh words and actions were just the type of punishment Oswald needed to fully let the lesson sink in. He’d ‘died’ several times for his repeated bad decisions. Death itself wasn’t enough of a motivator to teach him how to listen, it only hardened his resolve to be more careful with getting away with the same things the next time. Oswald could lose himself many times over and could endure physical torture. He could be scared or threatened, but… none of it really mattered to him anymore. None of it meant anything deep or permanent.

It took true emotional loss to move him. The best way to get him to realize his faults, to make the lessons stick, was to hurt him emotionally beyond repair.

Though it could’ve been seen as cruel, it worked.
Once he had something, something too valuable to lose, he was willing to change.
He had to be baited like a misbehaving, rebellious child.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad, I took the medication this morning.”

“I saw you last night, you only took half of what was recommended! Like I’d believe you took the whole thing this morning. Philip mentioned you had a… resistance.” Oswald stated, pointing out to the other, having been very keen on overseeing every detail of Edward’s personal care. “You had a tolerance for the gas, he gave you the extra dosage in medication accordingly.”

“It is a bit of a pained ache…”

“It’s all mind over matter. How do you think I got through his first venture through my mouth to begin with?” Riddler brushed off the concern, feeling the dull pain, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t push his mind beyond. Some dabbling in home-made pills that had to be strengthened over time the more he took them might’ve had something to do with building a tolerance to mind-relaxing medications… “The half dose is perfectly acceptable. Eddie would need the full, but I am comfortable as is.” The soft, delicate flower that Ed was.

“Not being a masochist isn’t a crime.”

“Clearly.” Oswald gestured, going quiet as he watched Riddler from his place on the bed, wondering when or how the conversation might come to a close. Was he in trouble? Was he still being interrogated?

Riddler took in and released another noticeable breath, his eyes sinking from the window back to the other man again. “So, putting us in your room may not have been about you, but it had something to do with you, doesn’t it?"

Yep. Still being interrogated. “I thought that… if you might’ve taken a negative reaction to the gas, as Philip said it was a possibility, you may have some surge of anxiety or concern. I… simply…”

“Assumed that you would be of some comfort both mentally and physically?”

“It’s not the point, but was he wrong?” Ed nosed in, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Oswald like he had done last night, though this time he kept a more separated distance. “He’s not the best at changing, but his manipulation has gotten much sweeter than it was.” Riddler scoffed at his other’s thought, noting the saddened expression sinking into Oswald’s features, eyes wide and locked onto him. Those chilling, bright eyes…

“Oswal-”

“Yes?”

The black-haired man’s reactive question was nearly immediate, waiting with bated breath for the full reaction to his choices for the situation. His heart was jumping, he was worried, his fingers gripped the sheets where he hoped the other couldn’t see, trying to keep his personal fears in where they could be best repressed.

“Don’t you owe us something?”

“Owe? Wh-What are you talking about?”

The taller man was not at his most impressive intimidation level, but he was making it work it seemed. He was still in his wrinkled, blood dripped dress shirt, sleeves still rolled up to expose his forearms. His lower half covered by plaid patterned pajama pants that had been brought from home for comfort’s sake. His hair was out of place, curling at the ends from yesterday’s product having dissipated through the day and sleep.

Riddler sauntered to the edge of the mattress, lowering his voice to show his seriousness. “I had behaved, like you asked. I’m owed our rewards.”

Oswald could feel that expanding knot now sitting beneath the transitional area between his mouth and his throat, unable to pull his eyes off the man at his bedside. “You… You remember that…?”

Rewards.
Plural.
He did remember…

“During and immediately proceeding the surgery are somewhat foggy. Before I got into bed and once I was settled in it are clearer. Speaking with you after the initial nap is… embarrassing, but I remember the conversations.” Riddler laid out, knowing he’d been… a bit of a mess. “People once believed into even the 19th century that worms existed in teeth. What they’d actually seen were rotten sections of teeth hollowed from tooth decay, or the natural pockets within the pulp, but believed that small worms could live in teeth and burrowed their way through. Hence, tooth worms.”

Oswald could easily believe that Riddler’s subject of the worms was based in some fact of the past, his brain mistranslating it when he was still under the influence of the laughing gas. “That… is a very interesting fact! No wonder you were so worried.”

“Mhm.” The man with glasses made an affirming hum, carefully taking Oswald in. “I want my hat, Oswald.” He stated clearly, knowing that he could pry his way into the topic from this angle easier. And it’d boost up a bit of the other man’s concern, which was some personal revenge he could take comfort in after his caretaker allowed him to babble on about the worms in his vulnerable state.

“Even if you take this for us, I wouldn’t be entirely offended if this leads somewhere down the road. If you screw this up I’m going to be so mad.”

“Y-Yes, of course! When you feel able to comfortably rejoin the public, I will see to it that you receive your hat. Whatever one you find that tickles your fancy!” The crime lord agreed easily, thinking if Riddler’s focus was too busy fixated on what his goal was that maybe he still had the opportunity to avoi-

“The kiss you can pay back in your own time. There is no time restriction on that. For your… comfort.” Riddler grinned in a smug manner, thinking that to be a fine enough reflection of their thoughts on Oswald’s chosen hospitality measures. He was curious to see what Oswald’s reaction would be. He had a foot up in the situation, he was in control. And he loved that.

The offer of a more open timeline left Oswald with a slack jaw, it adjusting as if trying to say the several overlapping thoughts in his mind at the same time. Eventually it closed, letting him swallow again while his brows dipped closer to his eyes. “Wh-Why? You… You wanted nothing to do with me before, so… why now? Why would either of you demand a kiss at all? Where has this come from? What’s changed?” He demanded answers with a list of questions, unsure of how this was all suddenly coming up. He was frustrated. This was something he fought so hard for already, something he took so seriously and went after that Isabelle woman for in order to save Edward’s heart! Noted… he should’ve let them be, but… Where was the appreciation for his efforts then? Why now?!

Now, it felt like a trap.
Now, it felt like he was being tested.

The taller of the pair shifted his weight onto one foot, hip pushed out to the side as he did so. “You changed, Oswald. And, admittedly, I’ve had my own revelations.”

“You?”

Riddler rolled his eyes before Oswald could reply, letting out a breath of annoyance at Ed cutting in again. “Fine. I’ve had stalements and reservations about it all while Ed has had revelations which, since then, have rubbed off onto me. And that has allowed me to see through my issues with a new clarity.”

“Acceptable, but still not entirely true.”

Riddler took a cleansing breath while Oswald was left to process what he’d been told, not seeing the full picture yet. The man on the bed bunched up the blankets in his fingers, his actions reflecting his unease. “And what if this is some sort of test?”

“Why would I do that?”

“We did once trap him into admitting his feelings just to see if he would.”

“You did it before!”

“Fine, why would I do that now?”

“I think this might work easier if we take the lead.”

“You did it… BEFORE!”

The intellectual stared into his brow, wondering if it was too late for him to take it all back. At this point was a kiss really worth the extra effort he had to put in? It was still worth the new hat. If this kept escalating he was going to end up shouting. If he shouted and stretched his mouth open too far there was the chance of him pulling his stitches. “If I kissed you first would you stop seeing it as a trap?” If it ended the frustrations, he’d make the first move right at that moment! Who needed to wait?!

“I suppose! Maybe!” Oswald sputtered, now not entirely sure where anything was going.

“Yes or no! I’m not doing it for maybes.”

“The more true answer for him is ‘probably not’, right?”

“I-” The black-haired man thought about it more for a long moment, giving his shoulders a shimmy when he came to some conclusion from his turmoil. “I don’t want what happened last time to happen again! So EXCUSE ME for being wary!”

“Do you really believe, Oswald, that in my paranoia of ‘tooth worms’ that this plot to betray you was the natural next step?”

There was an incredibly long silence before the crime lord dared to answer.

“Well… when you put it like that.”

“So can I kiss you now, get it done, prove this is not some evil and underhanded plot so we can finish this conversation? It is becoming a literal, physical pain to keep talking to you!” The amount of jaw waggling and the couple times of raising his voice while stretching his mouth was not doing him well. He could feel the dried, broken skin at the very corners of his mouth being pulled apart again. At this rate he was going to look like Jerome Valeska and that was a fashion he’d much rather pass on.

“You should have taken the proper dosage for your medication then!”

“Stop caring about us and answer me yes or no!”

“Alright! Yes! Fine!” Oswald’s hands went into the air, throwing them up in defeat. “If it’ll please you then, yes! It would end my suspicions! …At least briefly.”

“Fine. Briefly. Fantastic.” Whatever worked, he was over it at that point. He didn’t have Ed’s patience to continue the conversation delicately, and he certainly didn’t have it in him at the moment to deal with this more methodically. Right now everything was being handled as directly to the point as he could. He would really like to get his hands on some ice chips or cubes to soothe the added ache that came with arguing with Oswald. Mind over matter worked well, right up until he was too annoyed to ignore it. One deep breath later and he approached the bed with certainty, leaning on the edge of the mattress with both hands to support his torso, bent over to better get on the other man’s level. “Come here.”

“One question first.”

Riddler’s lips pressed together, believing the should’ve known better than to think it’d be so easy. “One. A single question. One singular thing and then this is happening.”

Oswald fidgeted in his spot, his fingers went back to work at playing with the short edge of the blankets over his stomach, twisting them in his hold. “What do you mean by ‘I’ve changed’? I don’t… truly believe I’m much different from earlier on in our acquaintanceship.” He might’ve upgraded some of his tactics, and was more cautious about certain types of plans to be sure they fell into place perfectly, to take the least possible damage in the final outcome, but… he was still very much the same person.

The leaning man’s head fell forward, dropping so Oswald couldn’t see his face anymore as he let out a heavy sigh. Of course. Of course this was the singular thought in his head that just had to be expressed.

“You really, honestly, should’ve seen this one coming.”

“Not now…” He mumbled, also not able to see Ed on the other side of the bed, quickly putting up a finger to keep the man on the bed from speaking. “And I wasn’t talking to you, don’t respond to that.” Riddler cleared that up as fast as he could, putting the brakes on any possible situation Oswald might get offended by his one question being rejected. “Okay, I’m ready.” The onslaught from both of them would continue, so he might as well get it over with. His head lifted once more, staring at his friend from his place, staying bent over. “Oswald, you aren’t incorrect. You are very much the same person you’ve always been. You are overall inconsiderate, if you give anything it’s to benefit yourself down the road and not simply to help that person. You are also so, so incredibly self-centered, and I don’t believe that to be something that would ever change as it’s only gotten stronger as you’ve attained power. You have a hairpin temper over the smallest things that inconvenience you, to which, I think I’m the correct person to judge you for that.”

“Please, do go on, I’m blushing.” Oswald’s expression was neutral, his tone going flat as his worse qualities were being laid out on display for the world to see.

The comment actually made the taller man crack a small smirk, more than willing to knock Oswald down a peg if the situation called for it. The reactions were usually quite amusing as the man would normally act out if anyone else did it. When he did, though, Oswald would simply throw a controlled tantrum and then pout for some short amount of time afterwards. He always looked like he wanted to say something, but he withheld it. And that was something of the point he was making. “All of these things have lessened with us involved, or have become self-serving in a way that no longer puts us at a detriment. You still do what’s best for you, but you don’t leave us to suffer with your fallout. You take us with you to benefit as well, or let us benefit on our own. You’ve become more mindful. Not always, or consistently, but there has been a noticeable change. You’ve… You’ve actually sacrificed for us, Oswald.” He saved his most damning point for the end.

“Well… I want to see you both thrive…! I’ve always wanted that.”

Riddler held up his finger again, not willing to hear anything about the past from Oswald. There was no comparing what had been to what was now. “You have wanted that a majority of the time, yes. You’ve also done much of that with the ideal that you are what would have us thrive.” He clarified Oswald’s counter-point, moving ahead with his verbal PowerPoint presentation. “You were unable to remove yourself from us. You were unable to sacrifice anything of yourself or your happiness. There were no situations where you would leave either hurt, lesser, or empty-handed. And in light of several semi-recent events… That has changed.” He didn’t want to dig into his own part too deeply, but giving pointed criticism on Oswald he could still do. “You’ve gone into a few situations where you may not rise to the top, things that would hurt you and were for someone else’s betterment. You sacrificed for Martin, for Gotham, and for us. Those were large-scale and don’t include the smaller things you’ve done since we’ve… sorted out this understanding we have now.”

Oswald’s eyes bugged out a little, his jaw hanging freely as he attempted to think of what to say to Edward’s notes. “W-Well… you… made a very good point that night. And it’s something that I thought about heavily since. About sacrifice. Something that I’ve tried following, and tried rejecting actively out of bitterness, only to begin following it again when the times came.”

“You’ve adamantly gone against two things I never thought you’d be capable of: You’ve given up a greater reward for yourself to ensure our safety and you’ve physically put yourself in harm’s way to save us with no thought to how it might affect you.” And those, for Oswald, were big ones. “When you decided to save us instead of finishing off Sophia before she ran… I didn’t understand it at the time. It didn’t make sense. Not comparable to your usual nature. We should’ve died on that pier and you should’ve chosen to secure yourself a more promising future where she couldn’t take from you again. You gave up your revenge, your security, and your safety to save us.” That was the first time they had really seen Oswald differently. That’s when he proved he could actually learn. “And when you took that grenade for us. I froze, we panicked, we couldn’t think. Where you took the shrapnel, that could have very well been our neck or our chest. It could’ve been our end, but you… The first thing you thought about was us. You yelled our name when you saw the grenade. You didn’t yell that there was a grenade, not that you needed cover, not to warn anyone else to move… You were focused solely on us. No matter what could’ve happened to you, you pushed us down, blanketed us with yourself, you put yourself between us and the blast.” If this required a little sugar-coated charm to get it done faster, he would. He could be charming like no other! Whatever got this kiss done so he could fetch his precious ice cold chips. “You paid for your actions, but you never used it against us. As leverage. You have complained enough though.”

“I think the complaining was incredibly justified!” Oswald pointed out, believing he had every right to complain about metal shards in his eye!

“And yet you never blamed us for not moving.”
“Even though we should’ve known better. We’ve been in greater danger before, but that…”

Oswald took the notes into consideration, going back to playing with the blanket as he thought. “Perhaps I’ve seen what it’s like to lose you, several times over. Though even as an enemy, I have the satisfaction of knowing you are alive and in Gotham somewhere. I know I will run into you again in some way or form. To truly lose you beyond the ability to see you again… that could be something I’m unable to handle.” He did not deal with loss of a loved one well. His mother. His father. …If death were to also take away the man who taught him what true love was… He would need time, but he would make anyone even partially related to the attacks on Gotham rue the day and wish that they’d been killed in the shootout with their compatriots. “Whatever it may cost me, it is worth your wellbeing.”

“And that is exactly the point, Oswald.” Riddler leaned forward, supported well with both hands on the mattress while his legs pushed ahead to touch the side of the bed. “You’d finally begun to see that something you want could exist without you. You stepped in enough to ensure our safety, to give up your own ambitions, then you let us go.” Oswald giving them the space that he had around those events, had been an astoundingly mature choice for him. “Now, quit wasting my time.” He instructed, believing he had all the soft stuff covered. “Accept that you’ve become an appealing option and give me part of what we’re owed.”

“An option for what?”

“If you don’t kiss me now you will never know.” The taller man threatened, thinking this had all had gone on quite long enough.

“Fine! Fine.” Oswald moved himself somewhat closer to the other man, feeling his heart begin to jump in his chest the more focused on Riddler’s deep brown eyes that had him targeted like a predatory animal. “Are… Is this… D-Do we…” The crime lord had several questions, but none of them seemed to want to leave him in any way that resembled completed.

“Close your eyes.” Riddler waited until his instructions were followed before proceeding. “Breathe.” Oswald’s lungs filled and then emptied themselves of air, putting him on a steadier path. “And because I believe you’re incapable of actually relaxing, keep breathing.” He leaned in, raising a hand to take one side of the other man’s jaw firmly, noting when eyes cracked open at the touch. “Eyes closed.” Like a child trying to spoil the surprise on himself early.

A pout came from the smaller man, closing his eyes completely again while letting out a short huff of air.

“Are you going to behave?”

“Unlikely.”

“At least he’s honest.”

Riddler rolled his eyes, closing the space between them to get the connection started before Oswald decided that he had to do anything else that might drag it all out any further. There was a slight jump from the other man, what could’ve been expected when he was surprising him with contact. The taller man cracked an eye open, noting the bright and unfocused orb that stared back at him in some form of shock or inability to fully comprehend the situation. Riddler felt no issue in staring back, continuing the kiss with eyes entirely open, willing a challenge to his partner in the action with a cocked brow. Some people were not fond of eye contact in general, let alone eye contact so close or during a moment of affection. He, however, had threatened Oswald himself from nearly that close several times before. It didn’t phase him with other people, and it certainly made no difference with his on-again/off-again friend.

Oswald’s eyes met the notable staring. It would’ve felt like the perfect time for his house guest to pull a knife and plunge it into his chest. Once upon a time, it was their betrayal promise to each other. Or close enough. If he felt metal sink through his skin, it would’ve felt a little poetic. The context would’ve felt right for it, if he had to pick one. Which… was also a reason to be worried about the affection. He didn’t want to know that he could be right. He didn’t want to know that Edward, either side of him, felt a need to act against him again.

He didn’t need the knowledge that he’d lost him again…

The man on the bed could see the bounce of the brow peeking up from behind glasses, poorly focusing on the dark eyes open in front of him. What was he doing? What did that mean? It didn’t seem malicious. It didn’t seem cruel. There was no movement for any sort of weapon… yet. Oswald couldn’t stop his heart from tripping over itself when no pain came to him, when he was left with just the sweet affection and no ill-intentioned affliction.

Riddler pulled away first, noting how Oswald’s eyes slightly fluttered while he might’ve pulled himself back in to focus on reality. “See? No tests. No traps.” He stated clearly with a smirk, having thought that had gone relatively well.

Once they were actually able to get started, anyway.

“Could’ve done without the staring contest though.”

Oswald nodded, unable to not notice how his skin felt like it was burning under the other man’s touch, feeling like he was swallowing his heart itself with every gulp he took. “It… It could still be a trap, to be fair, but… I’ve certainly been in worse ambushes.” This felt like the best setup he could for with a trap. “I will… gladly walk into this one.”

The brown-haired man chuckled, moving the hand on Oswald’s face slightly so he could hold beneath the shorter man’s jaw, fingers on one side and his thumb on the other. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He mused, willing to tuck that away for the potential future event that Oswald earned another revenge plan against him. “So far though, this is enjoyable being trap-free.”

“I agree. We should really keep it this way.” The crime lord proposed to the other, not yet removing his head from the clutched grip Riddler had on him. If it was anyone else attempting this with, on, or against him… He’d throw a fit. He’d take his face from that person’s grip, he’d slap their hand away, he’d stare them down, and he’d assert his authority. From either side of Edward, when he was posing no threat to him and wasn’t doing anything he was opposed to… He could let that hand clutch at his face for as long as necessary. Oswald even raised one of his own hands to clutch onto the wrist of the claiming appendage.

“Agreed as well, Oswald.”

There was a brief moment where things went quiet, a hand beginning to slip from its firm grip, but Oswald’s own hold kept it relatively in place. “One more?”

“I thought this was supposed to be our reward, not yours?”

“Can I reward you again? You behaved incredibly well under the influence.”

“It pays to have practice.”

“Hmm.” Riddler did think about the suggestion, considering what he was being asked. Oswald never could have enough of something he liked or wanted… “One more, but only one more.” He drew the line against anything beyond that, feeling a more dire desire to get his hands on those ice pieces. “For the time being, anyway. We’ll consider more in the future at another time.”

“Look at you dangling ‘consider’ in front of him like we don’t already have our minds made up. Cute.’

Oswald sat himself a little more upright in his spot, his attention caught by the allowance of what he wanted. He could focus if he knew that he was getting both something good and something he desired. It was a brief window of opportunity, but both sides of Edward had learned how to better manage Oswald with it. “Then one more to treat your good behavior!”

“A ‘treat for me’, how generous of you.” This was still the classic Oswald that they’d grown to know. This was the one that basked in things he liked and offered them to others as though it was also best for them.

The shorter of the pair paused, his chin pulling towards his chest slightly, making sure that Riddler’s hand followed his motions. “I am exceedingly generous, and this benefits us both, presumably. So…?”

“You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Edward… As much as I’d like to claim not, we both know how things around me go.”

Riddler chuckled, entirely accepting of the answer he was supplied. “Well, at least it’ll be fun.”

The distance was closed again, both well aware that things around them typically fell apart quickly. They weren’t allowed to keep happiness or positive things for long. No matter how hard they tried. Actually… trying harder usually ended up pushing things even more quickly towards their breaking point. If things were left well enough alone, perhaps a lot could’ve been different for them. They might not have been where they were at that moment if either of them had left any stand-out parts of their lives be.

That time there was no staring, no challenge, no competition, it was a simple action of reliving a moment that wouldn’t have seemed possible years or even months ago. Both of Oswald’s hands held onto the arm that moved to hold his face again, having no problem with the possessive grip that kept his head relatively still. He was being accepted. He was being focused on by the man he had tried years ago to get, to do anything in order to maintain his attention. To gain approval and validation from. Not on what he did, his plans for the city, or his actions. Though Edward had always been a good ear to run his ideas through. He needed that approval and validation on himself as a person. He needed someone to love him again, he needed someone to share his victories with. Okay… he needed someone to gloat his victories to that would care deeper down than the surface amount he’d let on. He wanted someone to be proud of him and show him true care. He needed someone he didn’t have to feel paranoid about betraying his trust.

If a plan failed… he wanted someone to tell it to, to coddle him and make it better again. Though he knew either side of Edward that would come with disappointed scolding and pointing out what parts of his plan could’ve been more practically thought out, but… maybe that was good for him too. He wanted someone to be concerned for him. He wanted someone who wasn’t superficially attached. Just one. He didn’t need the world, he didn’t need a crowd, or a line. One person. His true love, that was all. He wouldn’t mind having someone to hold him, patching him up, fussing about his improvised escape plan, pouring out their worries, and then simply being relieved he was okay.

It was a certain type of possessive, obsessive love that he’d like to be able to return.

As Riddler pulled away, his hand dropped, the man standing fully upright again next to the bed to signify that he was finished with the activity as a whole, putting his hands back in his pajama pant pockets. “Happy now?”

“Edward…” Oswald’s eyes opened to lock onto the other in the room, tongue skirting over his lower lip as words got stuck to it, creating a temporary dam. “Edward, I lo-”

“Nope!” Riddler denied the confession, shaking his head as he took several steps away. “No. This is not happening now.” He rejected Oswald's need to say those words again, very confident that he was nowhere close to ready to even begin to think about that. “Look. Several times that has come up in the relationships we’ve had, and each time something bad has happened soon after when I’m involved. Admit that to Eddie, have him squeal in delight, but you do not bring that to me. …Not yet.” That was something to concern himself with far into the future, if ever at all. The longer he could avoid it, the better.

Not yet. ‘Not yet’ wasn’t a no…! Oswald’s jaw slid to the side as he took in the words carefully, wanting to be somewhat offended, but… he supposed last time he brought it up he was put under a barrel of acid… and on another occasion he was shot and left to drown… Alright, maybe this time he’d keep it to himself. For the moment! Out of respect! Just… for the brief time being. “Okay. Not yet, then.”

“He still feels it though. After all that’s happened… a little time together and two kisses and he’s right back where he was.” Ed pointed out, standing beside Riddler again with his brows knitted as he thought. “He’s committed, we can give him that much. The last person we stabbed dumped us to marry Jimbo the boyscout. We shot him and he’s totally ready to start things over.”

She did stab him first. Which, might’ve been a sign the relationship was pretty well over, regardless. He shot Oswald out of revenge and here Oswald was still, ready to give his… devotion to them all over again. Hmm. “Thank you. Now that business here is finished, I’m going to the kitchen to raid the ice drawer.” Riddler excused himself, getting to the door to open it when the crime lord still in bed caught his attention one last time.

“Edward?”

He kept using that full name. He was getting sentimental. Riddler turned around, hand on the knob of the door, staring back at Oswald still surrounded by the mess on the floor and the piled nest of sheets on the mattress. Behind the man was bathed in the light of the day, casting a slight glow around his disheveled form. “Yes?”

“I’ve missed us.”

Riddler considered the statement, eyes moving to the floor as he turned the knob, opening the guest bedroom to the hallway. Perhaps it was something of a verbal compromise. It wasn’t as heavy of a sentiment, but it certainly showed Oswald’s heart for the situation.

“Me too”
“Me too.”

It was something both sides of the taller man could agree to.

“Now get dressed for the day, you’re my caretaker and you look a mess.” The swollen-cheeked man pointed out with a long grin, looking to stir trouble. He slipped out the door, hearing something large and soft hit the back of the barrier with force as he closed it. Perfect. Balance.

Oswald’s arms inside the room lowered, having chucked one of the pillows into the closing door with a small pout that quickly cracked into a smile once the door shut to leave him alone once more. He missed them. The entire exchange brought a warmth, a joy, to his chest as he took his hands into each other.

This was it.
His new start.
His new beginning to try again.

And he’d do whatever he could to protect whatever this could be.