In spite of straightening himself up as if he's facing down a firing squad, the slight tremor in Oswald's body remains. He's not afraid of Edward Nygma in any shape or form, not scared of violence or death or pain, but--
You will always let your base emotions drive you. Hate. Anger. Fear. Love.
Ed had been right about that and out of everything else it's not the possibility of physical harm or backlash that has Oswald unsettled now, it's what will be done with his emotions. And he does, truly, have a lot of emotions.
As Ed approaches, Oswald's stomach muscles tense, but he doesn't look away, doesn't blink or falter as he takes in deep, shaky breaths through his nose. And when Ed breaks the silence he almost wants to throw his hands up and yell That's all you have to say?! is that it?!
He makes no move to stop Edward in his tracks or cut him off, instead letting him close the space between them in some kind of dumbstruck pause, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open stupidly as Edward straightens him out. Just as he's always done. It brings a strange lump to Oswald's throat and a prickling to his eyes.
Nodding, his gaze dips down.
"No. No, you are quite right. You are not that man, but someone else. Just as I am not the man you knew, but someone else."
It feels like such a pithy remark, like a placeholder as they teeter on a knife edge.
Ed pushes his glasses up his nose and takes a moment to think. There's so much he could say, explain how much he's changed here, that he's stopped being so scared of what he wants, that he's stopped trying to fill some impossible mould that James carved and he never managed to fit into. That he's learned more about what he actually feels, even though he prefers to think than feel still.
He decides on the only thing he can really say.
"I'm going to kiss you now.
"Please don't stab me."
And he dips his head down to try and take a soft kiss from Oswald's mouth.
There were many nightmarish possibilities Oswald had imagined for the outcome of all of this. Some involving bloodshed, many involving yelling, definitely Ed deciding he never wanted to speak to Oswald ever again.
But this? This was an abstract fantasy amount other fantasies he considered far more plausible. The fairy tale dream against all the harsh realities. The one that would never be possible.
Initially, he's not even sure he believes Ed has said that and that his mind isn't playing tricks on him from the stress. Eyes widening slowly and his head lifting with a kind of dumbstruck confusion, Oswald's mind almost doesn't fully connect everything together properly until Ed's lips are brushing his own and then almost any hope of things making sense short out entirely. There's nothing in his mind at all. There's no world, even. This is a strange pocket of fake time and space where this isn't really happening. Edward Nygma is kissing him, but Edward Nygma isn't kissing him. Surely.
Oswald isn't actually responding, but he hasn't pulled a knife and stabbed him either, so Ed's calling this a win for now.
This woman that Oswald killed, that he apparently loved, is nothing more than an abstract to him, a clear piece of a puzzle of Ed's disorders and trauma, a way of sublimating himself into another person's idea of who he should be.
This man, with his murderous temper, calculated viciousness and tremendous capacity for generosity when moved to it, is frightening and everything Ed was never meant to want, but he adores him anyway.
The shock wears off at the point when Ed starts to draw back, like a circuit being broken and turning all the lights off.
There isn't much thought involved here though, just a sense of what he does and doesn't want.
He's wanted Ed for so long. And while he suffered and was punished for what he did with that want, the want itself never went away. He let it cool and harden, yes, but the core was still molten, still burning with something that wouldn't fully die out.
And now, it's just fully ablaze in his chest with the sudden added awareness that Ed is withdrawing.
Oswald doesn't even remember moving his hand to grab the front of Ed's jacket, fingers twisting into the fabric tight and desperate, unwilling to let this slip away again.
"Don't--!"
Ed may have had more time come to terms with what he wants compared to Oswald, but Oswald knows how to feel things and what he wants on a messy instinctive level. What he wants right now is he doesn't want Ed to step away.
He swallows, the fisted hand shaking against Ed's chest with a kind of lingering disbelief. He gives a small, sharp tug then, tilting his head up toward Ed's face, aiming to bring their lips back in contact again as quickly as possible.
Ed doesn't flinch, but he does startle at the snap and grab, not sure what's about the happen. It's Oswald, he's not predictable, even to Ed's calculating mind.
But then Oswald tugs and Ed realises. Oswald is warning him not to stop. He's demanding more.
He dips his head down again, closing in for another kiss. Hopefully a slightly less stilted one.
It's always fair to execute caution around Oswald. Anyone who knows anything about him should know better than to be complacent in his presence, especially when his emotions are concerned. And Ed, even now, knows Oswald better than anyone and has the good sense to know even he doesn't necessarily know what Oswald will do.
There's a deep-seated sense of relief that arrives for Oswald when Ed returns to him, leaning in to meet him in closing the gap, connecting up that circuit once more, lighting everything up once more.
Both his hands grasp in the front of Ed's jacket now, like he's trying to make sure he won't just slip away again or afraid he's only grasping at some kind of dream.
But this time, yes, he is more in the moment even if his head spins from disbelief. While he still lacks a particular kind of practiced finesse, Oswald certainly has more sense of his way around a kiss now than he had a couple of days ago, which comes in handy as his lips brush Ed's fully and with absolutely no ambiguity now about what he feels in relation to all this. There's almost a level where this entire unbelievable experience is sort of overwhelming.
Ed doesn't try to stop Oswald from hanging onto him, hands tight and up on his toes in a way that can't be good for his leg but for the moment, seems a small price.
His own experience with kissing is somewhat... vaster since arriving here. But he just brings a hand up to rest on Oswald's shoulder, on the juncture of his neck, and he kisses him back softly, a teasing brush then pressing their lips together.
The whole landscape feels so vastly changed now, like everything has been flipped.
It wasn't like Oswald took Ed's casual and fleeting touches for granted before, but the brush of his fingers against Oswald's neck at that moment takes it to a while other level. It sort of zaps any stubborn fronted energy Oswald has been holding onto and feels like he's being giving some kind of lifeline he's been pretending he hasn't needed or wanted. And now Ed provides it, even in that small way, Oswald wonders how he made it so far without it.
The small shaky exhale he gives against Ed's mouth is warm and jittery, right on the edge of some kind of faint, desperate little sob that isn't quite fully formed as his hands tug toward him to try and bring more of Ed closer to him still.
"...tell me this is real," he whispers in a faintly creaking voice without putting space between their lips, "Lie, if you must, but--"
Ed finally wraps his arms around Oswald and pulls him in tight and close, holding him in a firm embrace. "Shh, I've got you. It's real." He presses a kiss to the top of Oswald's head and rubs his back with brisk strokes.
Before here, Ed couldn't have done this. Wouldn't have known how to hold someone else for comfort, for intimacy.
The fierce independence that Oswald has forged for himself over his life out of necessity was put into question when he truly got to meet and know Edward Nygma. He'd thought he wouldn't be tempted in that way again. Or maybe just that he'd never be in a positionto consider it again.
But as Ed's arms coil around him like that, speaks words of assurance that Oswald has probably only heard a handful of times in his entire life, it pulls a breathy, awed little half-chuckle, half-sob from his throat as his own arms move with urgency to encircle Ed's middle, squeezing tight and barely shy of uncomfortable most likely, his face pressing firmly against the crook of Ed's beck, drinking in the feel and the scent of him. Words all feel a bit trite right now, but they will surely be back in abundance soon enough.
Ed's hand slides to cup the back of Oswald's neck, thumb rubbing the short hair at the nape and cheek coming down to rest on the top of his head.
Usually, he has words for everything, but he doesn't feel a need for them right now. He's under no illusions; things are not fixed, nor necessarily going to be fine from here on in. Oswald is still prickly and violent. Ed is still- Ed.
He squeezes and relaxes, letting Oswald's weight sink against him.
There's a long road yet ahead, there's no mistake of that. One that likely has all kind of twists and turns and challenging forks, but in the strangest turns of events Oswald finding the possibility of his and Ed's roads realigning once more the most incredible gift. One he most certainly doesn't deserve, but it's precisely because of that he could never take it for granted. Whatever it is. Hell, Ed could tell him that the two short kisses and this embrace was all that was available and, even if it would feel like dying, it's more than Oswald could have ever dreamt of.
But he does let his weight rest against Ed in a way he would normally refuse to do. It's just for a moment, just for this moment, and while it takes place it probably renders Oswald more into the small man he was often seen to be, that time before he tore a hole out of Gotham's underbelly and inserted himself into it still bloody and snarling. He doesn't need to do that right now with Ed.
After a long moment of still, appreciative silence, Oswald takes a long, deep breath and seems to reinflate himself. His hands move slowly, cautiously across Ed's back to his front, resting flat against his chest as he nods slowly to himself, in preparation to try and find his voice. He clears his throat for good measure.
"I am not the man you knew," he echoes his earlier sentiment, his voice this little both a little firmer in places and little more emotive in others, "And you are not the man I knew. However--"
His hands push up slowly, flatter momentarily around Ed's collar, then continue upward slightly further so his palms gently cup either side of the other man's neck as he lifts his head to look at Ed directly again. Oswald looks a little stunned and shaken still, like he's caught somewhere between bursting into some kind of jubilant dance and crumpling to his knees as a sobbing wreck. He swallows thickly, manages a trembling smile, and stares up into Ed's face with a watery kind of look from not-yet-falling tears.
"--I would like us to change that here. Truly I would. If you... would like the same."
For a moment, Oswald lets Ed support him in some fashion. Ed understands how rare a gift it is.
When Oswald gazes up at him, he can't stop his thumb reaching to brush away the unshed tears, some part of him so quietly marvelling at the ease with which Oswald not only feels, but expresses those feelings with his whole body. "I'd like that," he agrees softly. "A lot. And in a lot of ways."
In the world they know, emotional men aren't often referred to as such. Anger isn't considered emotional if it comes from men, but men who cry and wear other kinds of emotions on their sleeves run the risk of being considered weak, or more derogatory things. So emotion had to become Oswald's calling card, he had to be seen as over emotional, prone to violence if displeased, blind rage, the kind of emotion that is uncomfortable to bare witness to. And certainly not weak.
But these moments he shared with Ed--shares now again--is part of the other side of that. Oswald feels deeply and with restraint only under rare circumstances. The gentleness of Ed's thumb sweeping across the line of Oswald's cheek is almost like asking the tears to fall as Oswald gives out another of his shaky chuckling sobs.
"Then... I'm glad we are in accord."
This is such uncharted territory for him now that everything is out in the open. It's cathartic and terrifying, full of incredible possibility that right now he's not sure how to act on or shape.
He dampens his lips with a brief nervous lick, fingers shifting without real purpose against the back of Ed's neck where they've settled.
"May I..." he begins, then stops, lips pressing together firmly into a nervous line, unable to fully let himself complete the request. If he doesn't specify, there's no risk of it being denied.
Ed waits a moment for the rest of the question, head tilting and eyes blinking in that owlish, curious way of his.
It takes another moment for it to sink in that Oswald isn't elaborating and probably isn't going to without prompting or assistance. Lightning fast, he runs different scenarios, different things he can assume, or ask, or that might be about to happen and he settles on what he thinks is a fairly low risk gamble.
"Yes."
Whatever it is. Ed knows Oswald, even if not this Oswald, and whatever he's going to ask? It's going to be a hard press to find something that Ed wouldn't gladly offer that Oswald might ask for.
"Yes, you may," he clarifies, so that it's perfectly clear.
The agreement surprises Oswald, something that is painted fairly clearly on his face from the lack of will to hide anything in this moment. For a short second he wonders if Ed has somehow become a mindreader and what a blood-chilling thought that is even now. But it's not that, it's just Ed assessing--he's either managed to figure out exactly what it is Oswald is asking, or he's settled on a few very likely possibilities and deemed them all acceptable. Even that thought in the abstract, without letting himself imagine them in a fully-formed way brings a little bit of a colour to Oswald's cheeks.
I know you, he'd told Ed on more than a few occasions, though moments like this one remind Oswald that it's not a one-way street.
What he has in mind in particular is relatively humble in the grander scheme, not even something entirely new. Keeping his hands where they are (probably for fear of not quite knowing where else to put them for now, besides everywhere all at once which isn't physically possible), Oswald attempts to take a steadying breath before leaning up to draw Ed into slow, warm, kiss. It's still a little tentative, like he's afraid it'll disappear, or he'll wake up, or Ed will push him away, but it's an attempt at something more controlled than the last time that was more panicked reaction than anything else.
It's careful, appreciative, and vulnerable, but it's not really what anyone could call chaste by any means. There's still a lot to figure out and stumble through with trial and, though Oswald wants to try this again with what he knows now, wants Ed to know he takes this seriously and something he thinks is precious.
In truth, Ed had suspected it was something as simple as a kiss. He's spent time handling John's volatile self, Joker's overt sexuality, Vrenille's teasing, and the frankly brutally sexual relationship between Riddler and Cinder (and maybe Harley now?).
If Oswald had said he wanted Ed to strip here and lay down bare for him, he would've seriously considered it. But a kiss is more than he's willing to share, give, let Oswald take.
It lingers. He dips into it carefully, suckles very briefly and gently on Oswald's lower lip and then slides the tip of his tongue over it again.
There may be a time when Oswald may find the courage to make a request of Ed along the lines of laying bare for him, or perhaps Duplicity will offer something in the way of dubiously assisting in building his confidence. Though here and now, Oswald wants are surprisingly simple. Or unsurprisingly, perhaps.
And gentle as it is, careful as it is, the presence of Ed's tongue sends delicious, wicked heat prickling across Oswald's skin, so pleasant it's almost close to something uncomfortable. At least he's had this experience before so it doesn't startle him too greatly. It's enticing of Ed too, these little steps that feel like they're climbing somewhere, making it easy for Oswald to meet in kind, cautiously chase Ed's encroaching tongue with his own with warm breath just shy of a fully-formed, far more embarrassing sound.
Ed lingers in the kiss, draws it out, but does break it eventually to beam at Oswald and press close to him again. "Come back to my place with me tonight," he invites softly. "I'll make us dinner. I can even ask Ginger to have a date with her boyfriend."
Victor wouldn't be a problem. He'd see it was a date and either make himself scarce inside, or fit in neatly with the social part of the evening and then vanish. "I'll promise not to make untoward advances." And a hint of Riddler's cheshire smile peeks through. "Or I can promise to make them. Whichever will help sway you to say yes."
This time when the kiss breaks, Oswald doesn't feel cold fear up his spine that it might be the last or that he's going to be cut loose. In fact, each moment passing like this just adds an additional small thread between them, just like how thick rope is formed from lots of tiny little strands. It's the same process that makes rope strong enough to hold anchors on ships.
And it's such a smart move of Ed, anticipating where to draw a line that's not a cut off and is instead an offer and a promise. A date. It makes something flutter in Oswald's chest and draw up a chuckle that while still on the nervous side doesn't have that cracked edge to it anymore like he might cry, though Riddler's insinuation lends itself to another wave of warmth that prickles the back of Oswald's neck.
"That-- Yes. I would like that. But" he pauses, weighing the words in his head to try and assess if they will come out sounding foolish, knowing that flirtation is not something that comes naturally to his tongue, "However, I will not reveal which offer laid sway over my decision."
Really, it probably comes across more coy than flirty, but he's trying.
It makes him laugh. Both of him (it's more both of them than not right now) laugh sharp and loud and honest at the comment and steal one quick, firm kiss from Oswald's mouth. "All right, keep your secrets. Now, do you want to show me more about this place, or can we adjourn somewhere with food and drink and talk business plans in comfort?"
For a brief moment, Oswald watches Ed laugh with a kind of awestruck expression, like he'd never expected to hear that sound again. A slow smile spreads across his face in turn with a soft exhale of a chuckle, like he still can't quite believe this. And then there's the little kiss Ed dips in and out of, short and sweet and like a kind of reward for good behaviour. That's something else to get his head around--how different kisses can feel and convey different things, but so far they all carry that same pleasant dizzying sensation.
Oh. But he has to make his brain actually clock in and work again now.
Following a sort of bashful dip of his head and a short, muffled little laugh, Oswald nods slowly, trying to pull himself together.
"It's true there is a distinct lack of choice when it comes to refreshments here currently, baring ingredients from the Supermarket, but I'd honestly opt to not sample the wares at this point."
Reluctantly, he steps away from Ed and makes a gesture across the gutted space, back toward the stairs.
"I'd say I can take us somewhere good for lunch, however the best we can hope for here is--" his lips quirk down comically as his shoulders go up, "--meh."
And then the wide smile returns.
"But that's precisely what we want in this case."
He could suggest they return to Duplicity, but they still have a few hours on their collective timers and Oswald wants to give Ed a clearer lay of the land in person if they are to talk business.
"I've never been here before," Ed admits. "It never interested me, not when I was still building my map of the Down. But it's near complete now. I have the majority of the under city up here." He taps his temple, smiling at Oswald.
They'll be bringing something new to the city. Something unknown. It's a good niche to occupy. You don't need a double armful of cheap, crappy clubs when a couple of good, exclusive ones will more than pay the same with lower outlay.
Unlike the sprawling mess of Duplicity, it's relatively easy and quick to traverse Insincerity. Oswald has tried to get through the gate as much as possible since the seed of this idea had been planted and started to sprout, though he's far from having a full lay of the land just yet.
It doesn't surprise Oswald one bit to hear Ed has been working on mapping the city either--it had been something he'd considered consulting and enlisting Ed on in terms of research and getting a firm grip on the terrain. Of course he's already working on it; of course he's almost completed that arm of the task. Ed never fails to meet those expectations.
The cafe-bar Oswald takes them to isn't far from the university, frequented by faculty and students and supplying mediocre but edible food and okay but not great wine at a price that's a little steep though not so much it's worth kicking a stink up over. Very on brand.
Once settled, Oswald props his cane against his chair and folds his hands upon the table, positively beaming even though under most circumstances he'd insist stopping somewhere like this would be entirely beneath him.
"Your initial assessment of the situation was pretty spot on, really. I suppose all there is to really cover is the micro and macro matters," he pauses to lean in a little, bright-eyed and excited, Oswald in one of his absolutebeyyrr states. "What do you need clarity on?"
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-06-24 12:49 pm (UTC)You will always let your base emotions drive you. Hate. Anger. Fear. Love.
Ed had been right about that and out of everything else it's not the possibility of physical harm or backlash that has Oswald unsettled now, it's what will be done with his emotions. And he does, truly, have a lot of emotions.
As Ed approaches, Oswald's stomach muscles tense, but he doesn't look away, doesn't blink or falter as he takes in deep, shaky breaths through his nose. And when Ed breaks the silence he almost wants to throw his hands up and yell That's all you have to say?! is that it?!
He makes no move to stop Edward in his tracks or cut him off, instead letting him close the space between them in some kind of dumbstruck pause, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open stupidly as Edward straightens him out. Just as he's always done. It brings a strange lump to Oswald's throat and a prickling to his eyes.
Nodding, his gaze dips down.
"No. No, you are quite right. You are not that man, but someone else. Just as I am not the man you knew, but someone else."
It feels like such a pithy remark, like a placeholder as they teeter on a knife edge.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-24 12:55 pm (UTC)He decides on the only thing he can really say.
"I'm going to kiss you now.
"Please don't stab me."
And he dips his head down to try and take a soft kiss from Oswald's mouth.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-24 01:05 pm (UTC)But this? This was an abstract fantasy amount other fantasies he considered far more plausible. The fairy tale dream against all the harsh realities. The one that would never be possible.
Initially, he's not even sure he believes Ed has said that and that his mind isn't playing tricks on him from the stress. Eyes widening slowly and his head lifting with a kind of dumbstruck confusion, Oswald's mind almost doesn't fully connect everything together properly until Ed's lips are brushing his own and then almost any hope of things making sense short out entirely. There's nothing in his mind at all. There's no world, even. This is a strange pocket of fake time and space where this isn't really happening. Edward Nygma is kissing him, but Edward Nygma isn't kissing him. Surely.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-24 01:16 pm (UTC)Ed breaks the kiss and straightens up.
It's not the worst outcome.
Oswald isn't actually responding, but he hasn't pulled a knife and stabbed him either, so Ed's calling this a win for now.
This woman that Oswald killed, that he apparently loved, is nothing more than an abstract to him, a clear piece of a puzzle of Ed's disorders and trauma, a way of sublimating himself into another person's idea of who he should be.
This man, with his murderous temper, calculated viciousness and tremendous capacity for generosity when moved to it, is frightening and everything Ed was never meant to want, but he adores him anyway.
"Oswald?"
no subject
Date: 2020-06-25 12:48 am (UTC)There isn't much thought involved here though, just a sense of what he does and doesn't want.
He's wanted Ed for so long. And while he suffered and was punished for what he did with that want, the want itself never went away. He let it cool and harden, yes, but the core was still molten, still burning with something that wouldn't fully die out.
And now, it's just fully ablaze in his chest with the sudden added awareness that Ed is withdrawing.
Oswald doesn't even remember moving his hand to grab the front of Ed's jacket, fingers twisting into the fabric tight and desperate, unwilling to let this slip away again.
"Don't--!"
Ed may have had more time come to terms with what he wants compared to Oswald, but Oswald knows how to feel things and what he wants on a messy instinctive level. What he wants right now is he doesn't want Ed to step away.
He swallows, the fisted hand shaking against Ed's chest with a kind of lingering disbelief. He gives a small, sharp tug then, tilting his head up toward Ed's face, aiming to bring their lips back in contact again as quickly as possible.
"Don't."
no subject
Date: 2020-06-25 01:18 am (UTC)But then Oswald tugs and Ed realises. Oswald is warning him not to stop. He's demanding more.
He dips his head down again, closing in for another kiss. Hopefully a slightly less stilted one.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-25 10:09 am (UTC)There's a deep-seated sense of relief that arrives for Oswald when Ed returns to him, leaning in to meet him in closing the gap, connecting up that circuit once more, lighting everything up once more.
Both his hands grasp in the front of Ed's jacket now, like he's trying to make sure he won't just slip away again or afraid he's only grasping at some kind of dream.
But this time, yes, he is more in the moment even if his head spins from disbelief. While he still lacks a particular kind of practiced finesse, Oswald certainly has more sense of his way around a kiss now than he had a couple of days ago, which comes in handy as his lips brush Ed's fully and with absolutely no ambiguity now about what he feels in relation to all this. There's almost a level where this entire unbelievable experience is sort of overwhelming.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-25 10:28 am (UTC)His own experience with kissing is somewhat... vaster since arriving here. But he just brings a hand up to rest on Oswald's shoulder, on the juncture of his neck, and he kisses him back softly, a teasing brush then pressing their lips together.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-25 11:02 am (UTC)It wasn't like Oswald took Ed's casual and fleeting touches for granted before, but the brush of his fingers against Oswald's neck at that moment takes it to a while other level. It sort of zaps any stubborn fronted energy Oswald has been holding onto and feels like he's being giving some kind of lifeline he's been pretending he hasn't needed or wanted. And now Ed provides it, even in that small way, Oswald wonders how he made it so far without it.
The small shaky exhale he gives against Ed's mouth is warm and jittery, right on the edge of some kind of faint, desperate little sob that isn't quite fully formed as his hands tug toward him to try and bring more of Ed closer to him still.
"...tell me this is real," he whispers in a faintly creaking voice without putting space between their lips, "Lie, if you must, but--"
no subject
Date: 2020-06-25 11:22 am (UTC)Before here, Ed couldn't have done this. Wouldn't have known how to hold someone else for comfort, for intimacy.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-25 11:37 am (UTC)But as Ed's arms coil around him like that, speaks words of assurance that Oswald has probably only heard a handful of times in his entire life, it pulls a breathy, awed little half-chuckle, half-sob from his throat as his own arms move with urgency to encircle Ed's middle, squeezing tight and barely shy of uncomfortable most likely, his face pressing firmly against the crook of Ed's beck, drinking in the feel and the scent of him. Words all feel a bit trite right now, but they will surely be back in abundance soon enough.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-25 12:04 pm (UTC)Usually, he has words for everything, but he doesn't feel a need for them right now. He's under no illusions; things are not fixed, nor necessarily going to be fine from here on in. Oswald is still prickly and violent. Ed is still- Ed.
He squeezes and relaxes, letting Oswald's weight sink against him.
It's enough for now.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-28 09:59 am (UTC)But he does let his weight rest against Ed in a way he would normally refuse to do. It's just for a moment, just for this moment, and while it takes place it probably renders Oswald more into the small man he was often seen to be, that time before he tore a hole out of Gotham's underbelly and inserted himself into it still bloody and snarling. He doesn't need to do that right now with Ed.
After a long moment of still, appreciative silence, Oswald takes a long, deep breath and seems to reinflate himself. His hands move slowly, cautiously across Ed's back to his front, resting flat against his chest as he nods slowly to himself, in preparation to try and find his voice. He clears his throat for good measure.
"I am not the man you knew," he echoes his earlier sentiment, his voice this little both a little firmer in places and little more emotive in others, "And you are not the man I knew. However--"
His hands push up slowly, flatter momentarily around Ed's collar, then continue upward slightly further so his palms gently cup either side of the other man's neck as he lifts his head to look at Ed directly again. Oswald looks a little stunned and shaken still, like he's caught somewhere between bursting into some kind of jubilant dance and crumpling to his knees as a sobbing wreck. He swallows thickly, manages a trembling smile, and stares up into Ed's face with a watery kind of look from not-yet-falling tears.
"--I would like us to change that here. Truly I would. If you... would like the same."
no subject
Date: 2020-06-28 10:21 am (UTC)When Oswald gazes up at him, he can't stop his thumb reaching to brush away the unshed tears, some part of him so quietly marvelling at the ease with which Oswald not only feels, but expresses those feelings with his whole body. "I'd like that," he agrees softly. "A lot. And in a lot of ways."
no subject
Date: 2020-06-28 10:54 am (UTC)But these moments he shared with Ed--shares now again--is part of the other side of that. Oswald feels deeply and with restraint only under rare circumstances. The gentleness of Ed's thumb sweeping across the line of Oswald's cheek is almost like asking the tears to fall as Oswald gives out another of his shaky chuckling sobs.
"Then... I'm glad we are in accord."
This is such uncharted territory for him now that everything is out in the open. It's cathartic and terrifying, full of incredible possibility that right now he's not sure how to act on or shape.
He dampens his lips with a brief nervous lick, fingers shifting without real purpose against the back of Ed's neck where they've settled.
"May I..." he begins, then stops, lips pressing together firmly into a nervous line, unable to fully let himself complete the request. If he doesn't specify, there's no risk of it being denied.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-28 11:00 am (UTC)It takes another moment for it to sink in that Oswald isn't elaborating and probably isn't going to without prompting or assistance. Lightning fast, he runs different scenarios, different things he can assume, or ask, or that might be about to happen and he settles on what he thinks is a fairly low risk gamble.
"Yes."
Whatever it is. Ed knows Oswald, even if not this Oswald, and whatever he's going to ask? It's going to be a hard press to find something that Ed wouldn't gladly offer that Oswald might ask for.
"Yes, you may," he clarifies, so that it's perfectly clear.
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Date: 2020-06-28 11:18 am (UTC)I know you, he'd told Ed on more than a few occasions, though moments like this one remind Oswald that it's not a one-way street.
What he has in mind in particular is relatively humble in the grander scheme, not even something entirely new. Keeping his hands where they are (probably for fear of not quite knowing where else to put them for now, besides everywhere all at once which isn't physically possible), Oswald attempts to take a steadying breath before leaning up to draw Ed into slow, warm, kiss. It's still a little tentative, like he's afraid it'll disappear, or he'll wake up, or Ed will push him away, but it's an attempt at something more controlled than the last time that was more panicked reaction than anything else.
It's careful, appreciative, and vulnerable, but it's not really what anyone could call chaste by any means. There's still a lot to figure out and stumble through with trial and, though Oswald wants to try this again with what he knows now, wants Ed to know he takes this seriously and something he thinks is precious.
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Date: 2020-06-28 11:58 am (UTC)If Oswald had said he wanted Ed to strip here and lay down bare for him, he would've seriously considered it. But a kiss is more than he's willing to share, give, let Oswald take.
It lingers. He dips into it carefully, suckles very briefly and gently on Oswald's lower lip and then slides the tip of his tongue over it again.
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Date: 2020-06-28 12:21 pm (UTC)And gentle as it is, careful as it is, the presence of Ed's tongue sends delicious, wicked heat prickling across Oswald's skin, so pleasant it's almost close to something uncomfortable. At least he's had this experience before so it doesn't startle him too greatly. It's enticing of Ed too, these little steps that feel like they're climbing somewhere, making it easy for Oswald to meet in kind, cautiously chase Ed's encroaching tongue with his own with warm breath just shy of a fully-formed, far more embarrassing sound.
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Date: 2020-06-28 12:35 pm (UTC)Victor wouldn't be a problem. He'd see it was a date and either make himself scarce inside, or fit in neatly with the social part of the evening and then vanish. "I'll promise not to make untoward advances." And a hint of Riddler's cheshire smile peeks through. "Or I can promise to make them. Whichever will help sway you to say yes."
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Date: 2020-06-28 12:52 pm (UTC)And it's such a smart move of Ed, anticipating where to draw a line that's not a cut off and is instead an offer and a promise. A date. It makes something flutter in Oswald's chest and draw up a chuckle that while still on the nervous side doesn't have that cracked edge to it anymore like he might cry, though Riddler's insinuation lends itself to another wave of warmth that prickles the back of Oswald's neck.
"That-- Yes. I would like that. But" he pauses, weighing the words in his head to try and assess if they will come out sounding foolish, knowing that flirtation is not something that comes naturally to his tongue, "However, I will not reveal which offer laid sway over my decision."
Really, it probably comes across more coy than flirty, but he's trying.
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Date: 2020-06-28 01:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-06-29 10:32 am (UTC)Oh. But he has to make his brain actually clock in and work again now.
Following a sort of bashful dip of his head and a short, muffled little laugh, Oswald nods slowly, trying to pull himself together.
"It's true there is a distinct lack of choice when it comes to refreshments here currently, baring ingredients from the Supermarket, but I'd honestly opt to not sample the wares at this point."
Reluctantly, he steps away from Ed and makes a gesture across the gutted space, back toward the stairs.
"I'd say I can take us somewhere good for lunch, however the best we can hope for here is--" his lips quirk down comically as his shoulders go up, "--meh."
And then the wide smile returns.
"But that's precisely what we want in this case."
He could suggest they return to Duplicity, but they still have a few hours on their collective timers and Oswald wants to give Ed a clearer lay of the land in person if they are to talk business.
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Date: 2020-06-29 10:49 am (UTC)They'll be bringing something new to the city. Something unknown. It's a good niche to occupy. You don't need a double armful of cheap, crappy clubs when a couple of good, exclusive ones will more than pay the same with lower outlay.
"All right, lay on, MacDuff."
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Date: 2020-06-29 11:48 am (UTC)It doesn't surprise Oswald one bit to hear Ed has been working on mapping the city either--it had been something he'd considered consulting and enlisting Ed on in terms of research and getting a firm grip on the terrain. Of course he's already working on it; of course he's almost completed that arm of the task. Ed never fails to meet those expectations.
The cafe-bar Oswald takes them to isn't far from the university, frequented by faculty and students and supplying mediocre but edible food and okay but not great wine at a price that's a little steep though not so much it's worth kicking a stink up over. Very on brand.
Once settled, Oswald props his cane against his chair and folds his hands upon the table, positively beaming even though under most circumstances he'd insist stopping somewhere like this would be entirely beneath him.
"Your initial assessment of the situation was pretty spot on, really. I suppose all there is to really cover is the micro and macro matters," he pauses to lean in a little, bright-eyed and excited, Oswald in one of his absolutebeyyrr states. "What do you need clarity on?"
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