Riddler pushes away from the sink, stalking forward with his hunter's sway, approaching on Oswald and assuming he won't back up. "Here is doable. Though there's a perfectly good bedroom two steps back. And an even more serviceable bed further back."

His hands come up, one cupping Oswald's cheek, the other resting over his heart. "You really don't realise, do you? What you do to me. What I'd do for you. To you, if you let me." He leans down to flick his tongue on the shell of Oswald's ear. "I was willing to die for you. Me, a diagnosed narcissist, who should only be able to care for himself, would risk dying for you, Oswald Cobblepot. Can you imagine what else I might do for you?"