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.

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[theansweris]

A lack of desire is not the problem. Too much desire for this moment. He squeezes Oswald firmer, scolding himself for still wanting, for not being able to suppress that want, especially with Oswald naked against him. Even though he needs to focus on him.

"I would love if you were to touch me. In any manner you want." But there's a twitch and throb of want through his cock that he's sore Oswald must feel. "Please," he adds in a whisper.

sorry, I meant os' desire

[hobblepot]

[There's not much he can't feel, with Ed this close - and the little bit of Penguin in him not all buried under first-time jitters and sensory overload, observing and absorbing, quivers with dark satisfaction at the thought of reducing Ed to a trembling wreck with the right words and the right touches, being watched with desperate, fuck me eyes while holding his pleasure hostage. But there's none of that daring or mischief in Oswald when he rolls over in Ed's arms to face him, wrapping his fingers around his cock after some consideration.

He keeps a firm, comfortable grip, pumping slowly. There's power in having Ed trapped in his fist like this, but all that matters to him here and now is working the frantic energy out of Ed's system.]

There is a bottle of unscented lotion behind you, if you'd like. [He frowns, not looking up.] In the bottom drawer.

[theansweris]

Ed makes a small sound. It's helpless and needy and begging without being much of a noise at all and he pushes up against it before he can make himself be still and not take.

"No. This, this is good." He's damp and slick enough that it's not uncomfortable. He shifts slightly, nosing for a kiss from Oswald. "More. Please."

[hobblepot]

[Oswald wordlessly obliges, catching wetness on the web of his thumb while his hand rides up and down, faster and harder, knuckles brushing Ed's abdomen. It's a fairly straightforward, easy way to please; all Ed really needs is consistency. But he's content to give it all his focus until Ed reminds him that he can multitask, needing him in other ways. He clips Ed's nose with his own as he lifts his head, dreamily meeting his gaze before leaning to press a kiss to his lips. Still no teeth or tongue - just a slow-burn of a kiss while his hand moves between them.]

[theansweris]

They've been riding the edge for quite a while and now that Oswald's there, gripping and stroking it's going to be enough. He presses closer, into the kiss and the pressure and comfort of Oswald's body and is as good as silent when he comes, eyes closed and gasping against Oswald's lips.

[hobblepot]

[In a different frame of mind, he'd have easily been shocked and put off at having fresh come staining his skin, shaking out his hand and looking for the nearest tissue to wipe himself off on. But the circumstances are far from ordinary, and as Ed settles and they breathe against each other, relaxing, he feels an unexpected flicker of pride for having had a part in Ed's release.

No more stroking now. He opens his hand and lets it rest, quietly basking in the heat of their bodies.

Wiping themselves off could happen in a moment.]

Better? [He murmurs, placing a kiss over the dimple of Ed's chin.]

[theansweris]

Had Oswald tried to keep touching, it would've been too much, uncomfortably so, but he just rests in against them and they... feel quiet. Feel less like 'us' and more like 'me' for a little while.

He hums softly in agreement, nodding slightly and turning blindly for another kiss. He isn't ready to think about sleep, but the peace and relaxation is nice.

[hobblepot]

[He can't say no to Ed like this or the warm, welcoming softness of his lips, and whether Ed has or hasn't the energy to reciprocate doesn't matter to him. He's simply grateful having someone to share his feelings with, a port in the storm. At last.

He doesn't wait for Ed to offer a place for him in his arms and eventually shifts lower to lean his head into Ed's chest, slinging an arm around him. Ed's heart thumps away against his ear, not sounding any different than it ever has. But he imagines it must feel different, the way his own heart aches with that strange, sweet sort of pain again - a good pain.

He closes his eye.]

...You're a good man, Ed. [He mumbles into his skin.]

[theansweris]

This is something neither of them are familiar with. Or any of them, maybe. Ed brings a hand up to stroke Oswald's hair back and then just rest protectively on his neck, hand warm and heavy with relaxation.

He's not a good man. He never has been. But wants to be good for Oswald. He cuddles him close, eyes closed and listening to the sounds of the manor around them.

"Go to sleep, Oswald. I've got you."

[hobblepot]

[Emotionally, he's buzzing, in a mood to talk and talk until dawn breaks and the first weak, pale shaft of light finds the gap in the curtains. But his body is loose and heavy, the rise and fall of his side already slowing, deepening. Pawing around for their wrinkled blanket, he finds it and yanks it up over them, as much for modesty as for warmth. It's the last thing he manages to do before letting go, drifting off in the safety of Ed's embrace with a mumble and the odd twitch.]