Chapter Text
“Ozzzyyyyy!”
.. Jerome.
Oswald stirred in his sleep, feeling groggy and heavy all over.
Was I drugged?
Last thing Oswald remembers, they were travelling in the limo to an unknown location and now he was waking up in a different place, a very different place.
Must be part of Jerome’s game plan, stay vigilant.
“Wakey wakey, I made pancakes. Well, had someone else make them, but it’s all the same.”
…Pancakes?
Oswald blinked a few times to make sure he was awake,the sight of luxury not something he was used to anymore.
Looking around, it all seemed too perfect. The very idea of a cosy home; the fire crackled in the background from the fireplace, the rug he lay on was finely made and this place looked right out of a magazine, nothing that belonged in Gotham. Jerome was sitting at a long mahogany dining table, set for two, pulling out a chair next to him and beckoning for Oswald to come hither. Inbetween mouthfuls of pancakes, he would look up at Oswald and smile.
A few minutes went past and when Oswald made no effort to move himself from where he was, Jerome’s smile dropped, his cutlery clanging onto the plate as it slid from his hands.
“I s’pose you don’t wanna know about dear Edward after all.” He exclaimed cheerily, merging his face from stoic to biting into more food again, but all the while keeping his eyes indignantly trained on Oswald.
Edward.
Oswald clambered to his feet, hobbling his way over because his legs were now stiff from inactivity. He made sure to make it obvious as he dug his fingers into the chair, pulling it out slowly, noisily dragging the legs across the floor before he sat down.
I can play the staring game too.
It didn’t go unnoticed that Jerome may know that Edward would follow him, follow them
.
This movement, this juggling me around, it must be to throw Ed off the scent. Maybe he is on to Jerome!
Pancakes were placed in front of him as he sat down, steaming hot and looking delicious. Oswald couldn't remember the last time he ate. They did look good and Jerome was eating them… perhaps it’s safe. His stomach decided for him, as it grumbled loudly. He picked up the cutlery and started eating, keeping Jerome in his eyesight at all times.
“Edward,” Jerome started, no longer looking at Oswald, “is a very clever boy. He has been doing little errands for me and succeeding in them quite well, but I s’pose you know alllll about his uses by now.”
He winked at Oswald, who dropped the cutlery he was holding with a clatter. He continued with no reaction to it, knowing he had Oswald’s full attention now.
“I guess you were wondering, what could I possibly have on riddle man to keep him doing my bidding? Hmmmmm."
Is Ed coming for me or to prove how smart he is? Oswald hoped it was the former reason, and soon.
Jerome stood up, kicking his chair back in one swift motion. It made the pancake Oswald was eating stick in his throat, he coughed to try and dislodge it but Jerome slapped his back hard, forcing it to come spluttering out. He slunk behind Oswald’s chair, leaning over like an ominous presence, he could feel Jerome's breath on his neck as he opened his mouth to speak-
“Boss, something you should know about.”
One of Jerome’s lackeys had entered the room, making Oswald jump in surprise. Jerome never even acknowledged his presence. Instead, he pulled a dagger out from somewhere on his person and threw it across the room, hitting the man in the meaty part of his thigh. Oswald watched motionless as the man dropped to the ground screaming, clutching his leg in a useless attempt to slow the bleeding. It was obvious Jerome had hit a major artery; blood was everywhere in seconds. Specks of it landed on Oswald’s cheek, but he didn’t dare make an attempt to swipe it away.
Jerome’s eyes never left Oswald. He could feel them on him as he slowly pushed a hand through Oswald’s hair from behind, ever so gently.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”
The lackey was crawling out the room, leaving a trail of blood as he went, proposedly to get help but Jerome wasn’t interested in him whatsoever, it was as though he didn’t exist, a mere fly that needed swotting.
“I’ve done my research on you Oswald,” he continued as though nothing had happened, “I know all about you, and your past.”
Oswald shifted slightly in his chair to turn and face Jerome, who was looking down at him with an expression he could not read.
“Jerome, what do you have on Ed? I-! could be of more help. I have connections in this city.”
It was worth a shot, to appeal to something, but he only started laughing. A deep, guttural laugh, before settling down in the chair next to Oswald.
“Now, now Oswald. No point in lowering yourself to manipulation, why would I have to do anything," he shifted closer, " when I have you already?"
Oswald tried to think of what he meant by that as Jerome slid into the chair next to him once more, pulled them close so their knees were now touching. Heat rose in Oswald’s cheeks, more so at the thought that he did not find the contact unpleasant, only foreign to what he was used to. In fact, Jerome wasn’t repulsive to him. Quite the opposite. Today he had made the effort, dressed in a green shiny shirt with a yellow waistcoat, over grey trousers. It was fited and suited him well, he had slicked back his hair from the usual-
What is wrong with me, thinking about him like-
"He will do as I say, because I have you.” Jerome leaned forward, whispering into Oswald’s ear. They made eye contact as he sucked on his own finger, using it to wipe the blood specks from Oswald’s face.
“Jerome-what,” Oswald croaked out, stumbling over what he wanted to say, uncomfortable with the closeness on display. This was bordering on the lines of being sensual-way out of his comfort zone or any zone in which he knows. He had to divert Jerome's attention.
“I think you are overestimating how much Edward cares and how far he will go for me. It’s been proven in the past, not all that far.”
Jerome wasn't interested, faking a yawn. “Ah, the blind leading the blind with you two isn’t it.” he stopped wiping Oswald’s face, drawing out a napkin from his waistcoat and wiping his fingers on it.
“I know all about your sordid history, all I see is how many chances you each had to kill each other and you both never took them. Say’s quite a lot Ozzy!”
Oswald had nothing to say to that. It was the truth, kind of. He had thought Ed wanted to keep him around for a game, a challenge, a riddle, but maybe there were other reasons…
Jerome was scanning Oswald’s face as though he were waiting on something, or trying to figure something out, it was irritating the hell out of him.
What does this man want from me?!
But before Oswald could react, Jerome lunged forward and pressed his lips to Oswald’s in a kiss. Unable to process what was really happening, Oswald just closed his eyes, not reacting, unsure whether this was a good or a bad thing, but letting it happen as Jerome deepened the kiss, running his tongue along the outside of Oswald’s lips, bringing his hands up to barely cup Oswald's face.
Jerome wasn’t smiling as he pulled back, placing one hand on Oswald’s knee. It wasn’t menacing, it wasn’t threatening. In fact, if Oswald didn’t know any better, he might say Jerome was showing some genuine feeling.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back. Eat something or you’ll waste away.”
He disappeared in the direction of the man whose thigh had been impaled a few moments before, shoes squelching as he trapsed over the fresh blood puddle on the floor.
Oswald’s head was reeling with it all. Ed, Jerome, escaping, trapped, what is Jerome up to, what is Ed up to, what will happen next?
Most of all, and undoubtably the worst thing, Oswald did not feel disgust about the kiss. He may not have reacted in the moment because he didn’t know how to but-why didn’t I push him off me?
It hadn’t been bad, or unpleasant, or even...unwelcomed. As Oswald picked up his cutlery to start eating again, he ran his finger over his upper lip, where Jerome had run his tongue.
Not unpleasant at all.