PSL 03: tact from me is like blood from a stone

[theansweris]

Riddler takes them out to try and calm Ed down.

Away from the house and temptation and messy emotions, Ed does start to settle again, until he's quieted down and able to function again. Riddler's relieved and lets Ed pick the lock on the framing shop, letting himself in and acquiring what he needs and letting himself back out again with no sign of robbery. It's possible it might take them months to realise it ever happened.

Ed, being the sentimental one, is satisfied with this.

Riddler is not.

He spends a while acquiring his present. It's not as valuable as it could be, but he's satisfied. And that's enough for them to go home and get changed into more casual clothes and settle on the bedclothes with a book. He might sleep. He might not. Either way, he could be quiet until morning.

Comments

[theansweris]

"Well, yes, I suppose it is what he'd prefer," Riddler agrees softly, mostly just because he's not meant to talk about himself in the third person anymore.

He lets Oswald settle the bill and tip and helps him into his coat before sliding on his own, turning up the collar against the winds that whip along Gotham's streets at night. When Oswald hooks their pinkies, he squeezes back, glancing to him and smiling slightly. "Yours. I've never felt a need to rule anything, if I'm honest. I'll leave that in your far more capable hands."

Ed wants attention and admiration, respect. Riddler wants to never be forgotten, never be overlooked. Ruling anything has never been a focus for either of them.

[hobblepot]

Fine -- [he agrees readily enough] -- but as my incomparable right-hand man, you're entitled to some juicy perks. If there's anything you need - say, the removal of a pesky obstacle, or having the boys in blue look the other way while you square away some important personal business of your own - I'm sure I'll be able to work something out.

[He winks.]

Like I said, I want this city to remember that we are not to be trifled with. And someday, these people won't merely bow to you - you'll be making them dance. [A beat.] Or they'll be lining up and fighting each other to shine your shoes. Whatever makes you happy.

[theansweris]

Riddler shifts their grip to hold Oswald's hand more thoroughly, fingers laced and hands swinging loosely. The way Oswald is talking sends shivers up his spine and down his body with a crawling heat. "You always knew how to sweet talk me," he purrs.

He dawdles a moment before they turn the corner, tugging Oswald closer. "Ed just wants everyone to remember he built a submarine from scratch."

[hobblepot]

[He lightly bumps hips with Ed as he's pulled close, barking out a laugh.] As if I'd forget! [Rolling his eye.] Building the SS Gertrude from nothing but a blueprint and some scraps in, what -- a month? Two? That's quite the impressive feat, to say the least.

[Slowly breaking hand-contact, he rounds the back of the vehicle and enters from the other side, a rush of warm air bathing his face as he ducks inside. The cushy leather seating is always welcome whether he has walked two hours or two minutes, and he settles into it with a grateful sigh, relaxing a moment before tugging on his seatbelt. He flashes Ed a sideways smile, adjusting the strap.] You know, it wouldn't hurt to have an SS Gertrude II waiting in the wings for emergencies. Or short business trips. [Lacing his fingers through Ed's again.] Only this time, rigging it with a few traps in case any sneaky little rats get any funny ideas.

[theansweris]

It doesn't matter which of them it is, being praised for their brilliance makes them both equally happy. That it comes from Oswald just makes them warm and bubbly. In fact, warm enough that the shy, cheeky smile is definitely not the man who was with Oswald through dinner. "I was thinking about that, maybe something that causes a flash and shock, make people think that they've damaged something and thus it's not worth continuing. Either that or electrocute them."

Ed does like electricity. It's fun.

He gives a sharp rap on the divider with his knuckles to start the car heading home again. "Oswald, I'd like to try something, if I may?"

[hobblepot]

[The question spurs a gut-twinge of adrenaline.] Um, okay... [He huffs a laugh, his smile faltering.] Should I... be doing anything?

[theansweris]

"No. You don't need to do anything." He leans forward slowly, telegraphing very clearly what he's intending. He's going to kiss Oswald, though being Ed, it's probably going to have more chaste designs than Riddler's kiss did.

[hobblepot]

[Relief has Oswald's smile returning, a brief flicker of emotion, as he edges in to meet Ed halfway. They're both small, wounded animals crawling out of their corners - and this wired to teeth, he's struck by a sudden fear they may only be one misstep away from disaster. Just a word, a sudden movement, and he'd wake from this dream, cold and hurting and alone in his cell. But even bigger and stronger than that fear, he realizes, is love and curiosity and the electric excitement of discovery that he can feel to the tingling tips of his fingers. He wants this; they want this.

Their faces are only inches apart when the driver takes a left and Oswald ends up gently sliding into Ed, bumping lips and chins, his hand landing over Ed's thigh for balance. It's another friendly hello of a kiss on Oswald's part, an easing in for the both of them that still has all the power to make him shiver and his palms go damp under his gloves.]

[theansweris]

Ed gives a nervous giggle at the way Oswald slides into him, bumping them together from face to hip and he drops his hand to Oswald's hip to steady him. "Sorry," he whispers, because it isn't meant to go quite like that, but then he closes the distance and gives Oswald an actual, soft, lingering kiss.

Unlike Riddler, Ed has some experience with kisses, though rarely with being in much control of them. There's less hunger, but still a world of tenderness and genuine desire in the gentle press and movement of lips.

[hobblepot]

[The kiss, and each one that follows, is everything he wants and needs it to be: reassuring and unrushed, charging him with the same heady magic as the night before. He keeps his forehead pressed to Ed's when he pulls away for breath, desperately wishing he could bottle this moment and keep it for dark day. Wishing both that they could be home already and that their ride could never end.]

You know... [he begins, between soft, panting breaths] for someone who claims not to know a great deal about love, you sure know how to make a fellow feel special.

[He keeps his hand where it is, well aware of the placement of Ed's.]

[theansweris]

"Oswald... you are special. What else could make a diagnosed narcissist willing to die for you?" Ed gives him another kiss, lingering a little longer on this one and smothering down the fear that flutters in his chest like a rabbit's kick.

If his father saw him like this...

The next kiss is that bit hungrier, more want, less finesse. "He keeps scaring himself," Riddler murmurs. "About his first time kissing you."

[hobblepot]

[Their mouths melt together, Ed's harder, hotter, but not more than he can handle as his body wakes and a dizzying hunger of his own rises to meet Ed's. He answers him, not with teeth or tongue, but with purpose all the same, pouring everything he has in him to give. It's too soon, when they pull away - but it's feeling like all the time in the world wouldn't be enough.

He blinks at him, his pupil blown.]

Ah. A shame. And he was doing so well. [Vague disappointment bleeds into his voice.] Well, I am most definitely not going anywhere -- so I'll be around whenever he feels like dropping in.

[On a burning impulse, he almost asks if Ed has ever shrunk away from anyone else, or if it's only with him. But he bites it back, fighting to drive away the thought of the other people Ed has kissed, the others his hands have touched.

He licks his lips - the tartness of wine still clinging to them - and glances to the divider.]

I hate to ask, but are we there yet? Because I am very done with this seatbelt. And this wool coat.

[And sitting still.]

[theansweris]

Riddler leans in, the tip of his nose brushing Oswald's cheek and cheekbone and pressing a soft kiss there. "Am I such a burden to have to live with instead of Ed? He never let himself feel anything towards men, it was too dangerous, so I felt it for him. Like the anger. And his contempt. The burning pride..."

Anything that Ed couldn't risk feeling, Riddler felt instead. And as Ed was slowly accepting feeling these things, he was also triggering his own anxiety and the only coping mechanism he had.

"About five minutes more."

[hobblepot]

[He unconsciously cants his head in a way that bares his throat like an offering, his eye fluttering shut.]

Burden? No. But I won't pretend it doesn't sting a little to feel like I...

[He cuts himself short, his lips pressed thin, wishing he had polished off the bottle of wine back at the restaurant and drowned every last one of his nagging, ugly thoughts.]

Nevermind. ...This is hardly the time to feel sorry for myself, not after a fine dinner and finer company. I've enjoyed myself, truly. [Clearing his throat softly.] And I would like it very much if this evening were to continue in a... similar fashion, with you... doing what it is you're doing.

[theansweris]

"Like he can barely kiss you without retreating?" Riddler took the invitation to kiss Oswald's jaw, then his neck, down to his collar. "You're looking at it the wrong way around. No one else has been worth the trouble of trying to push past what his father did to him. He's never wanted anyone more than he's wanted to avoid his issues and anxiety."

He nips at the corner of Oswald's jaw, sharp and quick, just to sting, not to hurt or mark.

[hobblepot]

[Oswald trembles faintly, breath hitching under Ed's kisses; he digs his fingers into Ed's leg. But the pleasure washing over him isn't enough to slow his mind, much less stop it from turning as the pieces to a puzzle slide into place what seems far later than it should've. He blinks up at the ceiling of the car, seeing and not seeing.]

His father...

[He repeats, in a daze, as though it never occurred to him that Edward Nygma could have a father, or a mother, or a family, and that he had simply come into being one day.]

[theansweris]

Riddler hums obligingly and sucks on the spot he nipped, still careful not to leave a mark there.

He will leave marks. All kinds of marks. But not there and not right this moment.

The sucking is followed up by hints of teeth on an earlobe.

[hobblepot]

Aah-- [He tenses, flinching. But there's more than enough keeping him there, where Ed wants him to be, the almost vile slick and heat of Ed's mouth and every little suggestion of what it can do - and undo - gripping him by the balls and keeping him on edge.]

And I assume... [it's becoming a struggle getting the words out, his brow knitting with the effort, and he's not used to it] ...that daddy dearest has been taken care of?

[theansweris]

Riddler pauses and leans back.

His gaze is cool, even with the colour high on his cheeks. "Oswald. You have a choice. We can make out some more. Or you can ask about Ed's family. One or the other, because one is not conducive to the other, especially if you want to keep the possibility of Ed coming back to play on the cards."

[hobblepot]

[It takes him a moment to understand what happened when things come to a screeching halt. He straightens, still a little blank-faced when he raises his hands in surrender.]

I was merely -- [He squeezes his eye shut.] ...Fine. No more talking. [It's harder to stop touching Ed, at this point, than to keep their momentum going.] Except that I'd like to point out that out that I wasn't the one who first brought it up.

[From Ed's reaction, he had prepared for the possibility of Ed sitting the rest of the night out as well, but this he decides to keep to himself.]

But I'm sorry for asking, okay? Conversation over. [He spreads his hands, expectant.] Can we continue now?

[theansweris]

"I was explaining that his absence was nothing to do with you, and everything to do with him." Whether that him was Ed or Ed's father was unspecified, though either could equally apply.

But with the promise to leave it for now, Riddler softens again, leaning back in and pressing his nose under Oswald's jaw, followed by a kiss. "Because you, Mr Penguin, are very worth it."

[hobblepot]

[Hard as it is for him to shut up and let someone else have the last word, it helps that his restraint is swiftly rewarded. Somewhere in the back of his mind he's surprised by how easily he has gone drunk on Ed, warming up to a sort of touch that still feels strange to him, too guilty-good to seem like anything other than a fluke, at best.]

Go on... [He husks, half-serious. The soft skin under his jaw is already pinking.]

[theansweris]

"We'll be home soon," Riddler whispers into damp skin, blowing over it to see what happens, how Oswald reacts. "Will you let me undo you a little bit, Oswald?" His fingers walk up to the knot of Oswald's tie, wriggling it slightly. "Would you let me leave my mark on you, even if only we know it's there?"

[hobblepot]

[He can't help the shiver that runs through him anymore than he can help the appreciative hums and the little noises he makes low in his throat, all of him braced in restless anticipation. But he's not all passive and boneless, and the spell he's under breaks just enough for him to rest a hand over Ed's to still those wandering fingers. At least for now.]

...Let's not get too carried away.

[He says it with a vaguely challenging half-smirk. Whether he simply means in the car or for the night goes unexplained.]

You know as well as I that you have already left an indelible mark on me. You and Ed... in several senses. [He wets his lips, his tongue sticking to them.] Congratulations.

[theansweris]

Riddler murred with playful disappointment, but put a bit of space between them as they pulled into the driveway up to the manor.

"But I want to leave much nicer marks on you, Oswald." His nose wrinkles briefly and he glances away and then back with a softer gaze. "Ignore him. I think he'd cover us head to toe in tattoos if he thought he could get away with it. You as well. He's possessive."