Chapter Text
Edward's apartment had always been a disaster.
However, it wasn't any worse than Jonathan's after the incident. At the very least his bed was not upside down.
The ride to Nashton's apartment was glum. After going to the doctor's, holding hands, and kissing every chance they got, going to Eddie's in silence hit differently, like that feeling when leaving a concert and the streets were silent after singing at the top of one's lungs. Ears got used to the loud noise so fast because they were listening to their favorite songs, just as Edward's lips got used so fast to having Jonathan's.
But Edward understood. Crane felt miserable . He had been beaten, choked, electrocuted, and drugged with his own formula, and they had destroyed his home and its heart: Terror. Three trucks running over him would hurt less.
Eddie was there, being his crutch for the moment, supporting him and making sure no one hurt him again this time.
He handed him a pair of pajamas to change for his wet clothes and let him climb into bed without needing to say anything. Jonathan made himself almost into a ball, his hands under his head on the pillow and his knees close to his chest.
When Nashton also changed clothes, instead of lying down next to Jonathan, he went straight to the floor like a dog not allowed to sleep in the bed.
“What are you doing?” Crane spoke for the first time after the whole wordless moment they had.
“Hmm?” Ed opened one eye, finding Jonathan staring at him over the edge of the bed with a confused expression furrowing his brow. “Oh, well. I thought you... I thought you'd like some space so- don't worry, you take the bed. You should get a good night's rest.”
Jonathan's face did not react. It was just his lips in a straight line, and his blue eyes attentive to him without glasses as if he was writing mental notes just like a therapist in their notebook after their patient said something that gave away the state of their mental health.
“God, Edward, you are such an idiot. Come here.”
“But--”
“I don't even think I'll be able to sleep. Not when Terror must be giving all of her not to close her eyes. I don't want to wake up and find out she didn't. ”
Edward sat down on the floor, bringing his hand to Jonathan's cheek to caress it.
“She'll be fine,” he was confident in his words, quickly wiping away the tear threatening to spill from Jonathan's eyes. “I promise.”
Jonathan soon placed his hand on top of Eddie's, not wanting him to take it away. His slender fingers were trembling.
“Don't give me false promises. You know they're the worst. I don't want your pity. No--”
Edward shook his head, moving closer to him as he knelt on the floor. “No. I don't do that. I'm not them. It's not an empty promise when I put my whole life into it.”
“How can you promise something you have no control over in your hands?”
But Edward Nashton had felt out of control of his life since the beginning of time. He didn't have many choices, as if he were playing a video game where he could move the character wherever he wanted as others told him, but when he got to one part, the path was blocked. As much as he tried to move on to explore this other world, he could not. There was an invisible barrier that did not allow him to pass. His life had always been limited. He could not discover new things, have more opportunities, and decide between several options.
And only since he put on the Riddler's mask did he feel able to break down that invisible wall that had been holding him back for so long.
Eddie caressed Jonathan's cheekbone with his thumb without taking his eyes off him.
“ Because the one I have in my hands now is you . I know I'm risking losing you if I break a promise, and I don't want that. I won't allow it. If I lose you, I lose myself too. I'll do whatever it takes to keep it.”
“Edward... you can't control everything around you. I know you've decided who dies and lives in this story, but this is different...”
“No,” he denied, his eyes slightly watering. “I'm going to take care of that. Terror is going to be fine. Besides, I told you we were going to kill all those bastards, and that was a promise, too.”
The Riddler had a lot of empathy, or at least for the people who deserved it in his perspective, his followers who had opened up to him, and the other people who had no choice but to do whatever it took to survive. God also heard thousands of prayers and pleas daily, but miracles were only granted to those who needed them.
Asking for mercy before dying was not true repentance. It was fear. The mayor, commissioner, and district attorney were all phonies who never apologized for what they did until the last moment. And no matter how much the other Falcone's men apologized and begged him on their knees, he would never forgive them for putting Jonathan and Terror through terrible anguish.
“And what about you and me?” asked Jon. “What about us?”
There was a short silence after that. But Crane was able to see Eddie's answer in his eyes: he wasn't sure.
Yes, the Riddler could kill everyone else he had added to his list; he could guarantee the health of little Terror, but he didn't know what would happen to them. At the start of the plan, he knew the risk of death was high. The odds were equal to his victory, but he had accepted it. In those moments, he had nothing left to lose.
A quote remained in his head, "I would rather die on my feet than live on my knees," a follower of his had commented on one of his streams long ago.
“I-I swore to you before an altar on my knees that you and I could do it and take them down. We'll be fine,” Edward stammered. In those moments at the church, he had felt immortal and could eat the world. But it had been taken away from him so quickly that he couldn't even prevent it. A single tear slipped down his cheek as he brought Jonathan's hand to his lips and kissed it repeatedly across his bony knuckles.
Jonathan gave a little tug on his grip on his hands as a signal to get on the bed with him. Eddie went up there somewhat shyly, sniffing his nose with a few mucus. As soon as they were both in bed, they reached out to each other for comfort in an embrace.
In the time they lasted like that, they both stroked each other's hair and their backs, breathed in each other's scent, shared warmth, and kissed different parts of each other's face, like cheeks and forehead.
It was there that they both realized how much they needed some consolation.
They almost wanted back in minutes all the affection they had never given since birth, even though it was impossible to get back something they never had.
“Are you sure you don't want to sleep?” Edward whispered after a few minutes spent like that.
All he got in response was the feeling of Jonathan shaking his head and a faint, barely audible sound in which he said no.
“Okay, then I'll stay awake with you.”
“But--”
“Shhh, enjoy the silence.”
Jonathan snorted, hugging him tighter. “I love that song.”
───
Crane's exhaustion had utterly knocked him out in the middle of the early morning.
Edward, however, did not fall asleep. He let Jonathan hug him from behind, leaving him as the little spoon. He didn't wake up Jonathan when he realized he had fallen asleep, even though Jon said he didn't want to.
The dark circles under Edward's eyes could no longer bear to carry his eyes that were about to fall out, and even so, he took the energy to watch the news on his cell phone about the elections and Bella Reál's victory. The woman did not need Don Mitchell Junior to be dead to win the vote and hope of the citizens of Gotham.
Hope in fake hopes.
That celebration was supposed to turn into panic. The Riddler had already visualized in his mind his followers dressing just like him and with the opportunity to unleash their own justice. Additionally, he had been thrilled with the idea of what it was like to flood the city to start over, just as Crane had told him about how water could wash away and erase everything. Sadly, not even a detonator did he manage to put together. Also, Carmine Falcone should be more than cold at this point.
He had not contemplated getting too far behind schedule because of... certain variables. Now, Carmine and his people were a few steps ahead of him. Batman was lost on the road.
Of course, Ed couldn't be bothered when that variable hugged him tighter and pressed his forehead against his back. The plan had no room in his mind when Jonathan Crane occupied it.
He chatted with his followers most of the night to clear up doubts and tell them not to worry about anything. Their leader was fine, and they would have a more assertive change of plans.
The Penguin had mentioned something valuable about a celebration Falcone was organizing for the new Mayor, Bella Reál. Maybe he could go and liven up the party.
Speak of the devil- a call from the Penguin came in on Jonathan's cell phone, which Crane couldn't answer now because he was in his fifth dream.
He took it upon himself to answer the Penguin's call, whispering not to disturb Crane.
Eddie sighed as he heard the news about Terror. “Yes. I understand. Thanks for calling,” and he hung up.
He turned back to confirm that Jonathan was still resting, and sure enough, the doctor kept his eyes closed and his breathing calm while they were still locked in an embrace.
Would it be impolite to check what was on Crane's cell phone? It wasn't like he was opening a Pandora's box. He was just curious to find out what an older man like him would keep on his cell phone.
As expected, he didn't have any social networks. Work email was the most social he had. The gallery, however, was full.
He accumulated almost all the space on his cell phone with pictures and videos of Terror.
From Terror looking out the window or sleeping peacefully in funny poses to pictures where she was sitting in her tail, her tummy showed more. Most videos were of her from a hilarious angle where Jonathan would give her a funny voice and move Terror around like making a muppet talk.
“Now, what will it be? Death or exile?” Terror 'spoke' in the video in the voice Jon would give her when playing the judge in a sentencing trial. Terror had a small gavel, and Crane's long hands could be seen holding her like a puppet. “Very well. Death! By exile!”
Eddie chuckled softly at the recording, moving on to the following video. It was one of Terror fighting with her food until her paw landed on the edge of her plate, and she accidentally flipped it towards her like a catapult, staining herself with fish. There was a burst of laughter from Crane that he couldn't contain in the video.
He could go on and find more videos of Terror in comical situations. However, he stopped when he saw a selfie of Jonathan and Terror together, smiling in their own way, Terror's fangs shining just like Jon's eyes. Edward was sure it was a good day in that picture.
Shit, Eddie, you've got to bring her back, he thought.
He had given up the idea of going to heaven long ago. But, if anything happened to Terror, Edward was swearing he would invent new prayers and orations, would build a church with his own hands with bricks of supplications and cement of tears, would do everything to get God to let him in and get the cat's soul to bring her back to her thin little hairless body that sheltered Jonathan as he slept.
He could not provide the warmth Jonathan was used to.
Edward wasn't cold, quite the opposite. He sweated a lot at night; he could burn Jonathan.
Still being fire, Jonathan was the one who was hugging him as if he wanted to turn to ash in Edward's hands.
We'll be fine.
He wished he believed in himself as much as Jonathan did.
───
He also wished he believed in fairy tales, where his whole life was solved after kissing a
prince charming.
But if he was honest, he was still in the same pit with no way out. And unfortunately, he had thrown Jonathan down with him when he wanted to help him.
Crane didn't wake up to kisses on his back, caresses in his hair, or the smell of pancakes like it was portrayed in romantic movies. He awoke with noise and a headache, finding Edward at the desk, typing on his laptop and whispering his thoughts as he scratched his head with a pencil.
“Eddie? What are you doing?”
“Shhhh. Go back to sleep, pumpkin,” he replied without turning around, keeping his eyes glued to the blue screen.
“Shit, I fell asleep,” Crane groaned, angry with himself, touching his forehead.
“It's okay. Don't worry about it. You needed it. I stayed up for you. Cobblepot called in the night and said Terror had come out well of a surgery she'd had but that she should stay there with him for a day or two to see how she responded.”
Jonathan checked his cell phone to confirm the call. There were a couple of things on there: an answered call in the middle of the morning and a few new pictures in his gallery. There were pictures of Eddie making different faces at the camera. Some of them had his eyes very close to the camera lens as if he wanted to get into it, and a few others were of himself that Ed took next to him, playing with his sleeping face.
He smiled at the new photos, shaking his head at the witticisms of Ed's actions. “You stayed up all night?” he put down his cell phone. Beside him on the bed were his original glasses, which the Riddler had taken from him before their first mission. Finally, Ed gave them back to him, and he didn't wait for a more painful headache to put them on and see Edward with his shrimp back on the laptop.
“I couldn't sleep, so I used the time well.”
“Ed--”
“I've almost got it all planned out again. I just need a couple more things and--”
“Edward,” he called back over Nashton's sentences, who didn't seem to hear him as he kept talking.
“I'll figure it all out, and then I'll be finished with--” his chair swiveled a couple of times, stopping dead in the tracks in front of Crane, the responsible for swiveling the chair. Then Jon slapped him in the face. Eddie whimpered in pain, bringing his hand to his cheek and pouting his lips as Jonathan bent down to meet him face-to-face.
“I need you to listen to me properly, Eddie,” he spoke firmly, to which the other only nodded. “I know you worked hard on this new plan of yours overnight, but I want you to forget about it.”
Edward's eyes widened in denial. “But I made this new plan for you. ”
“That's the point,” he said. “I don't want you to do things for me. I want you to do them with me.”
Eddie looked away, exhaling and playing with his hands. “I've always done everything by myself, I guess. It was only me and no one else.”
“But you're not alone anymore,” he spoke softer, returning Edward's gaze to him and sliding his hand down his chubby cheek.
“I-I know, it's just... I think that's the problem, ” he said, feeling his throat ache. “I got so used to being alone, and... and I don't know how to be with someone.”
“I don't either,” Jon muttered.
“So what are we going to do?”
“I guess I'm going to have to learn to tolerate you,” he joked, arranging Edward's tousled hair somewhat roughly but making him laugh.
His laugh was short and low, just like mere drops of water in a cloudy sky when one expected a heavy rain in which to dance. Ed adjusted his glasses and asked shyly, “Do you really want to be with me?”
Jonathan did not immediately respond verbally, but his thumb tenderly stroked Eddie's cheek, and his eyes, which were always threatening, watched him softly.
Nashton stood there, sleepless, dark circles under his eyes marking how heavy it was to carry his life, hair badly combed, pajamas somewhat soiled, and his apartment being a total self-made mess that reflected who he was on the inside.
And yet, Jonathan gave a half-smile and placed his right hand on top of the Riddler's. “Edward, I would promise you the world. ”
“Say it.”
“Do you want me to promise you the world?”
“No. I know it would be easy for you to do that. The hard part is being with me, ” Edward confessed, his eyes becoming glassy. It had been raining all these days in Gotham, and it seemed that the sky had synchronized with his eyes. “And... and I need to know if I'm really not alone anymore.”
Jonathan moved closer to him until he kissed his cheek. “I want to be with you,” he murmured slowly, giving Ed goosebumps. He also kissed the corner of his lips, repeating, “I want to be with you,” and finished kissing the hand he held before, “I really want to be with you.”
A sad little whimper came from Eddie; his lips were trembling, as well as his hands. “I also... I also need to know why.”
“What is this about? An interview to qualify for your partner's position?” he joked sarcastically. “Eddie, I told you that you can't know all the answers in the world.”
“I know, but this is important to me. I really need to understand why you want to be with me.”
“Is this some kind of test to see if I'm not going to betray you or something?”
Edward denied. Jonathan didn't get it, of course. He still didn't know everything about him. Crane didn't know that behind all his big ego, he was full of insecurities, that without the mask, he was a nobody to others, that despite having great muscle mass, he wasn't too strong, that his brain as bright as it was, sometimes made him stupid; that even himself didn't know if he was really sick or not, and that even if he wore the brightest greens, he was still invisible to others.
He did not know him perfectly or yet see all his angles. Yes, Jonathan, at the same time, was the person who knew the most about him, but not completely.
He felt safe like that, being an enigma. But at the same time, he wished someone wanted to solve him, to be as interested as he was in riddles to seek an answer about who he really was.
And if Jonathan wanted to take his time and solve him , Nashton wouldn't want the answer to leave Jonathan unsatisfied. They would have both wasted their time.
He had to- needed to make sure Crane wasn't viewing him in pink tones but in the color he was: green .
“It's to know if I won't betray you,” Edward clarified in a broken voice without stopping shaking his head. “I don't want to let you down. I don't wanna fail again. I need to know why you like me. What if you're seeing more of me than I am? I mean, what if I'm like those small puppies you adopt because you think they're going to grow up big but stay the same size?” it sounded dumb, but it was the most precise thing he could say in trying to explain his complex feelings.
“Oh, baby,” was the first thing Jon said when he saw Eddie's tears slip, and he quickly wiped them away and replaced them with a couple of kisses on his wet cheek. “It's okay. It's not like that. No--”
The doctor's hands held his chubby face, still crying, “What would you do with that little dog? Would you keep it or abandon it on the street?” Edward asked, drunk with anguish, sniffing his runny nose.
Jonathan denied- denied all of Nashton's incorrect assumptions . “I'd stroke its tummy,” he replied as awkwardly as Ed, bringing his hand to his belly to tickle it. He took advantage of the closeness to sprinkle a couple of short kisses on his neck.
“No, Jon!” he laughed, trying helplessly to push him away as he squirmed instinctively at the tickling. “You know that's not what I mean. Stop it. It's serious talk!” he giggled. “You'll make me have to use my inhaler!”
“What? Do I take your breath away that much?” Crane flirted, amused, stopping the tickling but not pausing the kisses on the neck.
“How funny,” Ed rolled his eyes, wrapping his wide arms around the other's neck.
“Mm-hmm and you are so giggly,” he said with a kiss on his neck. “I love your smile. You and that cute way of smiling like a damn potato, but it paints your cheeks so pretty in pink and makes your eyes close a little like the petals of a flower.”
“Jon--”
“And your eyes- they're the prettiest green I've ever seen. They remind me of the trees where I used to spend all my time under them to read and relax. I want to lie in them . And did I ever tell you that you bring life to all those gray places just by being there? Yes, I did. Green is seriously your color. Not to mention how hypnotized I am by the way your pupils dilate as if the universe is expanding inside your eyes.”
Ironically, just when Edward wanted to confirm that Jonathan saw him for the actual green color he was, he painted pink all over his face. He bit his lower lip with a silly grin as he hugged Crane tighter. He almost felt his ears twitching as if they were wings that would fly him out.
A couple more kisses landed on his neck. “You're so smart, but you already know that. I'd kill for a look inside your head. Although I know it would only be enough for a glimpse of mere seconds because once inside, I'd be blinded by how brilliant it is. Your mind is full of knowledge, yet you make room for it to learn and discover more things. It's fascinating. You don't have a limit, you fuckin' geek who brags about knowing so many things. Oh, but what you don't know is that you're so handsome,” he smiled, placing a more prolonged kiss on his neck. “I can't take my eyes off you because you must be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I haven't even discovered half of your body, but I know that every inch of you is sand that I want to dig until I can crawl inside and live cuddled in your soft, warm skin,” he kissed between his neck and shoulder, slightly wet.
Edward moaned, instinctively holding Jon's dark hair. “I-I-It feels strange.”
“My kisses?” he asked to stop.
“No. You telling me I'm handsome,” Ed clarified. “You being so confident that you're going to love my body.”
“God, I'm going to be fascinated to the point of obsession,” he confirmed with a smile. “And I have to say that I'm probably already obsessed with your voice and everything that comes out of it: riddles, bad jokes, your sweet giggles or funny sounds you make, your stories, your way of describing so many things in the world so poetically, your eight-year-old insults, your damn sarcasm that made us fight so many times--”
“Oh, yes, I bet our fights from the beginning amused you.”
“You were a damn bastard, but you looked cute when you were angry,” he laughed tenderly. “Oh, and sometimes you were a pain in the ass. You stressed me so much with your ego and how clingy you were about following only your rules and screwing everyone else. You probably gave me more gray hair.”
Edward laughed, turning to look at him with a smile. “You and your gray hairs drive me crazy, so maybe I won't stop pissing you off until you have all your hair gray.”
“That or you'll make my blood pressure rise,” he joked.
“And you'll give me an asthma attack,” he continued the game with a chuckle, giving Jon a quick peck that he couldn't resist giving because of how close they were.
Jonathan gave him another and then went to his neck, opening his mouth wide and saying "aaahhh" to provide him with a soft bite that barely fit his teeth.
“Heeey, don't do that,” Ed said in a playful tone, liking the sensation actually. The soft bite suddenly changed to several kisses tickling him in the same area.
“There are so many things why I want to be with you, Edward,” he said after bathing his neck in little kisses. “So many situations turned me upside down with you; you turned my entire world around. You moved everything inside me. You changed everything since you came into my apartment saying you wanted to kill me, and you entered with the same ease into my mind that you were a whirlwind of new things causing chaos in me, and it was that same chaos that, for some strange reason made me feel safe with you. I trusted you with so many things: my past, my scars, my laughter, my treasures and secrets, and I have trusted you with my death as well. My whole life is in your hands, and I don't want you to see it as a burden but as a gift I give you. I know we've been on a fuckin' roller coaster, but God, I would ride it over and over again with you and raise my arms on every fall we have. I just want to enjoy the ride with you by my side. Aren't the best roller coasters the ones where you end up messy and unable to walk properly?”
They both had their hands together, holding each other. Edward cocked his head slightly to one side, looking at Jonathan.
Now, it was Nashton who didn't understand.
“Jon... wasn't your dream to have a normal life? By being with me, that will probably never happen. I don't want to take that away from you . I know how having that one chance to live peacefully stolen from you feels.”
“A normal life without you doesn't compare to having a shared life with you, baby,” he kissed his hands, stroking them afterward with his thumb. “It's not worth a normal, boring life if you're not there to fuck around and make us argue until we're drowning in kisses.”
Edward snorted in amusement. “Are you blaming me for all our fights? Hey, you too--” he stopped dead in his tracks as he realized he was indeed starting a fight. He cleared his throat, whispering an apology to Jonathan, who kept looking at him with a loving smile.
“I know it doesn't make sense what I'm about to say, but God, even if you and I are in the middle of a tornado and everything around us is flying, there's something about you that brings me peace, a peace that even running miles away from here alone won't be able to find.”
Peace.
Edward, being so sensitive, turned his gaze away. The reflection of his computer made his teary eyes shine brighter.
Peace.
That was something Nashton never felt. And neither did Jonathan, not until being with him.
Edward was chaos; even Crane had already said it. He was a tornado. He caused disasters. And yet, he gave Jonathan peace. It didn't matter if he turned his world upside down; Eddie would always be his safe place; however he was. Whether Edward was happy, sad, angry, out of energy, or full of energy, he would always be his safe place.
A hug with Edward happy would set Jonathan's ribs cracking from so much emotion, and an angry hug would make his lungs explode from the pressure he used against him as a weapon. It was the same result at the end of the day.
“Nothing about us makes sense,” Edward confessed, gazing at Crane. “But I swear to God that, at the same time, you seem to give sense to me . And- and that should make everything else easy, make things clear, but it doesn't. I really thought the whole apocalypse would be over after our first kiss, but for some reason, I feel like everything got worse,” Eddie wailed. “Terror, your apartment, the tension with Falcone, and even Batman, everything turned against us.”
“Baby, fuck them all- except Terror,” he laughed nervously, “she'll be fine. I trust your promise,” that last thing made Edward's heart cry harder. “You said we could defeat them, and that's what we're going to do.”
Edward took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Do you think that…Do you think that if we had met at another time in our lives, everything would be easier for us? I don't know, maybe if I had met you on the subway on my way to work, or buying a pumpkin pie at the same coffee shop, or maybe on the street because Terror escaped from your apartment and you asked me if I saw her pass by. Something normal. ”
“Edward, sweetheart, you're going to spend your life wanting to chase another one. ”
That sentence set Eddie's lips quivering, but he nodded repeatedly, understanding.
Guilt was putting him back in chains. He'd broken free long ago when he discovered the city's corruption and that he had no control over it, but that guilt had been for his life. The guilt he felt now was for how it impacted Crane's life harder than a car crash, one where the car came out wholly wrecked, and the worst part was that in that car, not only came Jonathan but also Terror and everything else that meant to him.
Crane continued speaking, and Ed's hands held him tighter. “I don't care if things are complicated or easy for us. I told you you could swim in me. I want to swim in you too. And whether your waters are the roughest or the smoothest, it doesn't matter because I'll keep swimming in them. Eddie, you can sink me in your waters, and I would learn to dive to the bottom of them. God, I don't care what happens to me as long as it's your waters that immerse me.”
“Jonathan,” he called out with a sigh.
“Stop looking for excuses to pull me out of your waters, Edward. Don't--”
“I love you.”
Jonathan was left with his words in his mouth, inconveniently drowning by Eddie's words. His facial expression softened. He didn't have a smile. His lips were doing the opposite, an ‘n,’ but he wasn't sad. It affected him as if Edward had ripped out his heart and directly hugged it against his chest. He felt his heart outside his body in Ed's hands. It was the first time he had ever been told that in his long life.
“I love you, Jonathan,” and now it was the second time it had been said to him. “God, I love you so much,” third.
A tiny little whimper came out of Jon, turning red.
“I--” he was interrupted by a kiss from Edward, who took him by the back of the neck and drew him close to his lips.
“I don't want you to tell me that you love me too now,” he murmured against his lips. “I want you to say you love me some other time when you feel like you're really going to explode if you don't get those words out.”
“But that time is now,” he continued the kiss. “I can't fit everything I feel for you inside me,” he said, panting.
“I don't give a shit. Find yourself another moment. This is mine,” Edward declared, kissing him deeper without letting him speak.
Jonathan's eyes widened at the intensity of the kiss, and he pulled away a few seconds later. “Oh, what a son of a bitch you are,” they laughed until Eddie stopped and hugged him, sticking his head to Crane's chest and holding the fabric of the pajamas. Jon, in reaction, stroked his back, pressing a kiss later on his light hair. “You look tired. All this talking must have taken everything out of you.”
“I'm fine. It was a necessary conversation,” he calmed. “I just need a shower.”
Jonathan's hand continued to stroke his broad back in circles; he breathed a little harder against Edward's skin.
“May I join you?” he whispered close to his ear. That and the tone of voice sent a dance down Eddie's spine, shivers running up his arm.
He turned to look at Jonathan from his chest, somewhat confused and red at the same time. “Y-You mean walk me from here to the bathroom or- or to take a shower together?”
A little low chuckle came from Crane, stroking his hair. “Oh, yes, I was planning on just dropping you off at the bathroom two meters from here when I asked if I could join you.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.”
───
The water coming into Edward's apartment was not the best. It had little precision, the temperature was unstable, and it was full of chemicals that dried out his skin and sometimes broke out in hives or damaged his scalp.
When he turned on the faucet to wait for the water to heat up, all those bad things did not go away as he would have liked. Nor did his nerves or embarrassment disappear in the face of such a situation that did not help him.
He was about to apologize for it, but his mouth closed when he saw Crane's expression clearly telling him not to speak now. He nodded quietly. They both removed their glasses and left them on top of the toilet bowl. Ed went behind Jonathan without any command and slipped the fingers of his hand under Jonathan's pajama shirt, directly touching his back.
He lifted the corner of the fabric slightly. The stitches in his wound still needed time to heal, and unfortunately, the surrounding area was purple from the lack of care and poor treatment earlier.
Then he slid his thumb under the wound and ran his right hand all the way around Crane's back. The sound of his hand sliding across the skin and Jonathan's slightly louder and slower breathing was satisfying, even though the water falling made more noise.
Edward removed the shirt and left Jonathan's back bare before him for the first time. Eddie sighed as he ran two of his fingertips over a large scar that ran from the doctor's shoulder blade to his waist. Edward gave him a couple of resounding kisses over the middle of his white back, wrapping his arms behind his back around the doctor's waist.
“Raise your arms,” Jonathan asked as he turned to face him.
Eddie broke away, letting Crane turn and face him. He obeyed what he said, raising his arms and allowing him to remove his shirt from the top.
As soon as the shirt fell to the floor, Jonathan grabbed him around the waist, pulling him close and kissing him softly. Nashton reciprocated immediately, bringing his hand to Crane's chest to caress it. Likewise, Jonathan lowered his hands to remove Ed's pants and underwear, who did the same with him after breaking away from the kiss. Removing their clothes was quicker, although it was very slow and delicate for them.
Holding hands, Edward led Jonathan to the shower to get in once the water was at a comfortable temperature. The old shower barely got them both wet if they stood close together in the middle.
“I think I should have thought better of our context when I proposed this idea,” Crane spoke ruefully, with half of his hair wet and the back of his neck dry from the water not getting there.
“And I think I should have also warned you that my bathroom isn't the best or... appropriate for these situations.”
They gave each other looks, being squashed together to share the shower water, and then burst out laughing.
“Well,” Jon sighed, analyzing the situation by looking around. “We're here now, and I'm not going to wait outside half wet and naked in the toilet for you to take a bath and take turns in the shower.”
Eddie's cheeks puffed out, and he let out a laugh. The whole thing was silly but didn't feel weird or wrong. Romanticizing poverty never looked so literal.
His hand fell again on Jonathan's chest, looking at him. “Who said I wanted you to get out? Come here, let your hair get all wet,” he said, pulling him so that he was in the center of the shower, and the water fell straight onto his scalp.
Crane's black hair covered his face as it got wet, like a cat in the rain. He had to separate his locks with both hands as if he were opening the curtains of a window to uncover his eyes.
There, he found Eddie, cupping his cheekbones and looking at him with that typical smile of his and pink cheeks.
“Hey,” Jon greeted.
“Hey.”
Jonathan broke away to shake his head like an animal and remove the excess water from his hair, splashing everything around him and Ed.
“Jon! Stop!” he laughed, covering himself with his arms.
“As if you weren't under the shower now,” he pointed to his irony as he finished.
Edward stopped covering himself, accepting the doctor's good point. He picked up the shampoo bottle and poured some into his hand. Jon didn't have to wait for any signal to go to him and let Eddie wash his hair.
Edward's heavy hands were working on Crane's scalp, massaging it with gentleness and inspiration. He had the tip of his tongue out; it was his face of concentration. On the other side, Jonathan's light hands were on Eddie's body, a little above his waist, hugging him.
All of Nashton's fingers were in motion; he should thank his typing or art classes at school for that. His fingers carefully washed Jonathan's skull, making him close his eyes and slightly pant from how good it felt. The shampoo had turned to foam, matching that of the sea with bubbles as Edward let his fingers walk through the sand of the seashore, and the foam melted into his skin.
“Don't open your eyes yet, pumpkin. I'm almost done.”
“Mm-hmm…” Crane barely formulated in a breathy pant. His hands ran up and down the thick edges of Edward's body, sometimes letting his fingertips dance as if he were playing his favorite song on a piano.
Now he understood why musicians closed their eyes when they played; they felt the art more that way. They were part of it on more than just the physical plane. Many told Jonathan that he had pianist's hands, but he never learned to play one, and now it felt like he was giving a concert with Edward's folds. His skin didn't sound, didn't make music, but Eddie's vocal cords did as he hummed and sighed tenderly and softly along with Crane, who was playing every key of him. He climbed up his broad back, slid into his rolls, squeezed a few of them, and sneaked around other angles of him.
He would have been a great pianist. He didn't hit the keys; he caressed them. It was all very subtle and delicate. If his fingertips fell on Edward's body, they were as light as drops of water, and if he slid his entire palm down the middle of his back, he did so at the same speed as all the other drops to join them in forming part of his white skin.
“My love,” Edward's voice sang in a whisper straight into Crane's ear. That was his final note, the one that ended his concert and made Jonathan melt at the tone and the affectionate pet name. “ You are playing me so good … I'm not lying when I tell you I've never felt this way before.”
Jonathan sighed loudly, opening his eyes. Their noses were brushing, almost touching their foreheads.
“How?” he whispered.
Eddie passed saliva and brought his hand to Jonathan's chest. He moved his hand up and down slowly, watching intently for a few seconds at all the hairs that filled it. It was something that drove him crazy.
“Well, safe ,” he replied over his lips as he looked up, breathing in the sigh that escaped from Jonathan's soul.
“All the GCPD are looking for you and me, and you feel safe, whoa,” he grinned in amusement.
“You know that's not what I mean,” he said, still playing with his chest and looking down at his chin.
Crane's smile became a little more serious, giving him a peck on the lips after a few seconds. “Can I wash your body?”
“Yes, but... but you'll have to rinse your hair first and get rid of the funny hairdo I did for you without you noticing while you were touching me worse than a market fruit,” he babbled, no longer holding back his laughter, stepping out of his romantic role.
Jonathan's eyes widened, and he tried to look up at himself. His hair was combed out of two horns like a demon.
“Oh, you're so funny,” he rolled his eyes, and Edward let out a laugh as Jonathan stepped further into the shower.
“You don't know how hard it was to hold in my laughter while you were playing the passionate lover.”
Once Jonathan undid the hairdo, he got a sponge and bar soap that Ed handed him.
“But don't worry,” Nashton continued, “you can get passionate while washing my ass.”
“I guess being my partner isn't going to take away from you also being my biggest hater.”
“You should be grateful. I'll always be honest with you; if you're being an idiot, I won't hesitate to tell you.”
“You know, you were the first person to call me an idiot,” Crane spoke more calmly, starting to scrub Eddie's shoulder with the sponge after lathering it up with the bar soap. “That time after I threw the frying pan at Colson,” he recalled. “I've been called so many things: son of a bitch, bastard, scumbag, asshole, but never an idiot,” he lowered the sponge to Ed's arm, not looking him in the eye. “My point is, I didn't even get a chance to tell you that I could be anything but an idiot. I was more focused on watching you laugh for the first time with me.”
“I think that makes you a real idiot…” he said softly, looking into the blue eyes that weren't looking into his own. “God,” he shook his head and smiled, “falling in love with the person who wanted to kill you. It's…”
“Very idiotic of me, I get it,” Jon finished for him, washing the other shoulder.
“Not as idiotic as falling in love with the person you were supposed to kill.”
Because, in the end, Jesus loved and trusted Judas so much that he gave him the most challenging task , to hand him over to death ; and Judas loved Jesus so much that he fulfilled it, even if it hurt him too much, causing his death as well. It was not betrayal. It was a promise of love. They died for each other's name.
“Killing and loving are the same thing, at the end of the day. When we first kissed, I felt that I was passing my whole soul to you and that when we parted, there would be nothing left but my lifeless body in your arms,” he took the sponge to the area of Nashton's unmarked collarbones. “When you said "I love you" to me a few minutes ago, I forgot how to breathe and thought I was already dead in hell with the torture of having to hear something I always thought was impossible. And you can mock all you want, but, yes, you called me "my love," and I felt myself fading away and leaving with the sound of your voice through the air.”
The sponge was circling down to Eddie's chest, who stopped Jonathan's movements for a second by grabbing his slender wrist. He brought the bony hand to his lips and kissed it long, sonorous.
He then moved to the wrist, kissing it. He extended Jonathan's whole long arm, walking between internal kisses down it until he reached his shoulder and up his neck and cheekbone, ending at his ear.
“You kill me every time you say things like that,” he whispered, clinging to him from his tiny waist.
“I think what I'm killin' is your ego by not knowing what to say back,” Crane smiled clumsily at the kiss on his lobe, hooking his arm around Edward's back. The sponge slid across his skin. “The great Riddler with nothing to say. It kills you that. And then you want to kill me back with your kisses.”
“I don't know what good this great mind is to me if it melts every time I'm with you. I don't know what good life is to me if it doesn't end with you.”
Jonathan's hand stopped at his back, but it wasn't still; it was trembling like his whole body.
“Edward,” he called.
“What's wrong? Oh, my love, I feel you shivering,” he tried to pull away to check on him and see his condition, but Crane pulled him back. Edward understood that Jon didn't want him to stop hugging him.
“Can you promise me something? That's all I'll ask of you. I don't need another promise.”
“Tell me. I've already made you several promises, honey. And if you can promise me the world, I can promise you anything you ask of me.”
Jonathan sighed, closing his eyes. He pressed his lips together for a few seconds, searching for strength in his words.
“My death is entirely yours, you know that. You can kill me at your hands, and I will die in peace even if you do it in the most violent way.”
“Jonathan, I no longer--”
“No, no, listen,” he stopped before Edward interrupted him. “I know you don't want to now. I know. I'm just saying that if your intentions to kill me come back, and you do, then I want you to promise me it will be straight through the heart. I want you to open my heart for a bullet, a knife, your own fist, whatever. You don't need to rip it out of me, but you do need to make a fissure in it.”
“W-Why are you asking me that? Why so specific?” he stroked behind his shoulder, his pupils quivering like a pair of marbles.
“Because that would be the only way for all my love for you to come out to you finally. It's too much, and it doesn't fit inside here. Nothing I do alive will ever be enough to show you everything you make me feel. And unfortunately, my ribs and chest keep me from exploding for you and giving you everything. If I die, I want it to be knowing all my love went with you. I'd hate for it to be locked up with me in a coffin.”
“Jonathan, God, hon…”
“Promise me,” he said firmly.
“I promise, my love,” he sealed his promise, kissing his hair and hugging him tighter. “I promise.”
And so Crane stopped trembling in Eddie's arms, holding him still, calm in body and mind.
“We're wasting a lot of water,” the doctor spoke after a few seconds of silence.
“Hey, I just told you to wash my ass, and for some reason, you got sentimental,” he joked, stopping the small tear that had barely peeked out of the corner of his green eye.
Jonathan chuckled, pulling away from the hug. “Put your leg up here,” he patted his own slender thigh a couple of times, offering it as a seat for his leg. “I'll finish washing you.”
Without saying anything, Edward just nodded and put his foot up on Crane's thigh, having to hold onto the doctor's shoulders to keep from slipping and falling.
The soapy sponge went over his heel and leg first, cleaning well from top to bottom and almost seeming to be combing out the hairs he brought there. He scrubbed his knee in circles, which bore the marks of old bruises and scabs he probably adopted when he was a kid and scraped his knee when he ran. After that, Jonathan approached Edward's thigh, full of shorter hairs.
He gave Eddie a look where he was asking for permission to be able to caress it with his hand, and Eddie nodded a couple of times softly as if he had the power to read the question in Jonathan's eyes.
Thus, Crane let his long palm caress the thigh as well. Edward was ashamed of his cellulite every time he saw himself below the hips when putting on a pair of pants or bathing. Still, Jonathan was erasing all that shame and contempt with his caresses that went from behind the thigh to a little higher. He was really making sure to remove that dirt from him, that stigma and disgust that people had for such common things as dimples in the skin.
While he rinsed and waited for all the soap to fall off, Jonathan asked Nashton to hand him his other leg. Eddie brought it back up on top of the other thigh, and Jon did the same washing, starting at his foot and ending at the top of his thigh.
As he scrubbed and caressed his other thick thigh, Edward pressed his cheek against Jon's cheekbone and rubbed it as a sign of affection. The action had surprised Jonathan as he was concentrating on his own thing, but afterward, he laughed low and whispered a couple of sweet things in his ear.
Eddie could no longer resist and gave a couple of fleeting kisses over his lips before guiding Jonathan's hand, which held the sponge further up and behind his thigh, leaving it on his gluteus.
Jonathan squeezed the sponge without saying anything and reciprocated the pecky kisses, causing the foaming soap to come out in greater quantities and slide down Nashton's butt. He also took the opportunity to massage Edward's wide hip with his other hand until he returned to his other gluteus and moved his hand in circles.
A small moan came from Eddie; his eyes were closed, and his face flushed.
“It's all right, darlin',” Jonathan whispered, running the sponge up the middle of his back. “ I'll take good care of you. Don't worry about anything else.”
The soft words were a rope that wrapped around Edward and pulled him to Jonathan, hugging him and pinning his ear to his hairy chest like a pillow.
Nashton sighed and closed his eyes as the sponge caressed his broad back, relaxing him. He still felt Crane's long hand on his buttock until it came up to join with caresses on the bridge of his body that was his back.
“You're full of moles,” the doctor remarked as he looked at Eddie's white back with several pigmentation patches on his skin, large and small brown spots decorating it just like a chocolate chip cookie.
“I know. They're not even freckles. They're all moles like the stars in the sky had died out.”
Eddie sighed when Jonathan pressed a long, tender kiss lower his shoulder, latching onto him from his back in reaction.
“Well, I'd keep asking them wishes,” he whispered against his skin, placing another kiss on the shoulder. As soon as Eddie looked up to see him with a smile at his words, Jon gave a kiss that made him grin more, showing his teeth.
Edward's chubby hands slid all over Crane's back, feeling a couple of scars that were longer and rougher than others. None of them took away from the fact that his palms captured how strong Jonathan's back looked. He had no firm muscles, actually. His hands touched his shoulder blades and other bones in his back, like his spine at the beginning of his neck. It was almost possible to grab him directly from his spine like a snake and shake him to check for a rattle.
“Aren't they painful?” Edward asked, somewhat embarrassed that he had touched his entire back -and continued to do so- without asking first.
Jonathan moved closer to his face, answering, “Not when I'm with you,” and it was amazing how, having been farthest away from Edward, the water from his bath had burned his whole back, being the ground of an erupting volcano with all the lava running down him. But, being this close to Edward, under a rusty shower head with almost acidic water, he felt nothing but his hands reaching into the portholes of his scars to caress his poor soul as one would get between the bars to give affection to a squealing puppy.
Their noses brushed, caressing each other.
After a few minutes and gallons of water, they came out of the shower.
Jonathan helped Eddie dry his hair with a small towel, reaching behind his ears and making a bird's nest of his locks like branches. As he kissed Edward's head, he smelled the fragrance of the cheap shampoo they washed each other's hair with.
They slept together again, even if Crane had slept before. He couldn't resist the idea of resting between clean sheets that they changed and being freshly bathed.
He was beginning to like waking up next to his Eddie.
───
“Eddie, don't be fuckin' gross,” the sleepiness and tiredness spoke for Jonathan when he felt sudden licks on his cheek one morning.
It hadn't even been two full days under the same roof, and that was already for him to be overconfident.
But his complaining didn't stop the little rough licks from reaching the tip of his nose. Rubbing his nose with his hand to clean and remove the saliva, he opened his eyes with an angry look.
Soon, this one softened as he found in front of him a pair of bright blue eyes and whiskers tickling near his chin.
“Terror? Holy shit, Terror!” he shouted, jumping off the bed and bouncing on it with his arms outstretched. The feline was quick to jump into them.
The doctor happily received the affectionate licks, from licks on his chin to almost inside his nose. It didn't matter if Crane's cheeks were going to ache all day from grinning from ear to ear; he couldn't help but do it.
“Oh, my baby girl, you're all right,” he expressed his thanks, his voice sounding with all the emotions in it. Jonathan repeatedly kissed Terror's hairless skin, and she purred and cuddled closer to him for more affection. “Or are we both dead? I don't care as long as we are together,” he said, hugging her gently.
“You're more than alive,” Edward's voice spoke from another part of the room, accompanied by a flash. He had a camera in his hands and a smile on his face. “I took good pictures of this moment.”
“Eddie,” his soft voice greeted him from the bed. Terror was still purring on his chest as he carefully stroked her back, for a couple of bandages were around her tummy. “Did you go for her? I thought--”
“I promised you she would be all right,” he walked over to Jon, carrying a shopping bag in his hand as well. When he reached the bed, he set it on the mattress. “The other day, when Cobblepot called, he said I could pick her up in a few days. I got up early today because I wanted to surprise you. Everything went well with her. She just needs to rest and not make any heavy movements. She has a couple of stitches under the bandages that we must be careful not to touch.”
Crane turned to Terror, who was already trying to lick under the bandages.
“Don't worry, I took care of that too,” Edward bragged as a responsible partner, pulling out of the bag an Elizabethan collar with a doughnut design and colored sprinkles. “I couldn't resist the design,” he laughed, reaching over to the cat to put it on. “I know it's not her style of- well, you know- terror. But it was either this or a bored cone of shame.”
Terror meowed at having the collar heavier than her head, scratching it as she wanted to escape but only causing the donut to spin around her and go full circle.
“She doesn't scare anyone like this,” Jon tried not to laugh, covering his mouth as he had Terror's gaze on him, asking for help to remove it.
Meow.
Though his comment offended her. She was always scary! Even if she had a giant donut for a necklace.
“Oh, Terror, don't take it personally,” Nashton defended. “You look cute like that. It's only for a week. And hey, I know it's not your house that you're used to, but you and Crane are welcome here. You've even got plenty of rats to catch for fun,” he encouraged, approaching her, petting under her ears.
“Don't think you'll set those caged rats free for Terror to chase. She might catch an infection.”
“She's got something to amuse herself with while we're busy. ”
“Busy doing what?”
“Yeah, well- on the way here, a few things came to mind. I have an idea to start a new plan right away. But, I don't think you'll like it very much…”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow, not trusting too much. “What do you have in mind, chico?”
All Nashton gave him in response was a sly grin.
He will definitely not like it.