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The Riddler had become a regular guest at the Iceberg Lounge.
Oswald doesn’t mind. He enjoys Ed’s company after all.
When they have a drink - or sometimes two - the atmosphere is casual and friendly, their times as sworn arch enemies just a distant blur of a memory.
But it remains at casual and friendly. Nothing more. And Oswald is fine with it, has long given up hope there might ever be more.
So, he’s learnt to distract himself - from the assiduous longing for one Ed Nygma Oswald still carries inside of him.
For a while it works well. Oswald has a whole range of men to choose from after all - an almost overwhelmingly amount.
Oswald knows it’s not about him per se and more likely given the fact he’s running Gotham’s most eminent nightclub and with that has risen high in power and wealth.
That, and maybe his more bold choices in both fashion and make-up - and the hair dye.
After a while though, Oswald finds himself to be not as lucky anymore.
Men who’ve been very eager to follow Oswald into his personal quarters before, are now quickly shifting their gaze, some even ducking their heads before they quickly take off, disappearing into the crowd.
Oswald doesn’t want to waste a single thought about it; doesn’t want to feel anything about it.
But it hurts.
And soon, Oswald’s lack of understanding for the rather sudden rejection mixes with rage and self-doubts.
For a while, Oswald decides to go with a more traditional, less-flamboyant look. Maybe, he’s been too vibrant. Maybe, it’s been too intimidating, he wonders. So, it’s simple black suits - ones that don’t glitter - Oswald puts on. Though, he does end up adding a top hat and a monocle to his outfit to lift himself up from the crowd, at least a little.
Yet, not a single man seems to want to bed him. Not even his bartender Jeff - or Jake? - who’s always been more than eager to follow Oswald’s orders to take him hard on the desk in his office, doing these incredible things with his hips that would always have Oswald see stars.
After that, Oswald tries to fight the ongrowing frustration by wearing things like colorful fur coats, thick striking eyeliner in radiant colors - one time he even adds a purple-tinted balm to his lips - and there’s glitter. Glitter, everywhere.
Still, the men at his club seem to actively avoid, even flee from him.
Just when it seems like another night where Oswald has to lock himself into his office to take care of certain things himself, he catches something in the corner off his eyes.
There’s a young man, with what Oswald considers a very handsome appearance, eyeing him with an impish smirk spreading on his lips. Oswald recognizes that sort of gaze.
Finally, Oswald thinks, warmth fluttering through him, as he begins to walk - or rather strut, as much as his leg allows - towards the man.
And now he really is thankful he hasn’t given up on his usual hygiene rituals despite the ongoing drought period.
Suddenly, Oswald stops, eyes growing wide.
A figure has appeared from the shadows, grabbing the man’s collar.
“Hey!” Oswald shouts, quickly hobbling over towards the scene, supporting himself on his cane to go faster.
Expecting a random drunk guy having a hold onto the man’s collar, Oswald can’t help gasp loudly when he comes close enough to see the man’s face.
“Ed?!” he asks, blinking in disbelief. “I- what?!”
Ed looks dumbfounded for a moment, before his features grow hard, letting out a growl. “I can explain.”
“Uhh...nice, but can you let me go first?” the man still in Ed’s grasp pleads, grimacing as his eyes dart in between the two men in front of him.
Ed glares at him, a snarl on his face.
“Ed, for god’s sake, let him go,” Oswald groans, already feeling his temper rise to a critical level.
“Alright,” Ed growls, flexing his hands as he pulls them away, leaving the man’s collar and shirt crumbled. “But only because you said so, Oswald. Otherwise…”
The man shoots a pleading look towards Oswald. “Look, I don’t know what’s happening, I just wanted to have a good night and I- I don’t know I didn’t know you were like- you know taken, Mr. Penguin Cobblepot, look- you’re- you look great,” the man stammers, having seemingly shrunk an inch or two under Ed’s stare. “Sorry, I didn’t want to steal your man-” he directs at Ed.
At that, Oswald huffs out a humorless laugh; Ed scoffs.
“He’s not my man,” Oswald clarifies, glaring at Ed.
Ed’s mouth drops open and there’s something flashing in his eyes, that has Oswald’s insides flutter in an unexpecting way.
“I...would you excuse us,” Oswald says, his throat suddenly feeling tight. He waves his hand towards the man who seems to take the invitation to leave more than willingly.
Ed, who is still staring at him, with almost a look of sheer disbelief on his face, holds his hands up in defense. “Look, I- I don’t know what’s- he seemed...very vicious.” He pauses to adjust his glasses. “Like a threat. Maybe a spy-”
Oswald snorts, face wrinkling. “Ed, that boy just almost wet himself. I doubt he’s had any sort of agenda. Let alone was a spy.”
Ed presses his lips to a thin line, nostrils flaring. “Well, you can’t be careful enough. You know this city.”
Oswald furrows his brows. “How come you suddenly feel entitled to act as my personal bodyguard, for how long…,” his voice trails off, and as the realization manifests inside his mind, Oswald’s eyes grow wide again.
“It was you,” he whispers, green eyes flashing.
Ed huffs out a breath, then clears his throat. “What? I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” He lets out a high-pitched chuckle. “Absolutely none. No-”
“You chased all these men away from me! You were sabotaging my goddamn sex life for weeks!” Oswald spits out, pulse and temper rising to a definite critical level. Reaching out, he smacks Ed hard on the arm. “How dare you! How dare you Edward Nygma-”
“Ow! Be quiet,” Ed hisses, rubbing his arm, eyes darting around nervously to see if any heads have turned towards them already.
“No,” Oswald says, baring his teeth and pointing a finger towards Ed. “I won’t be quiet. And oh, I won’t let this happen any longer. I-I’m going to- to have sex with every man in here- no even better,” he pauses, huffing out a dry laugh and giving Ed a smug smile. “I am going to sleep with every single man from this god forsaken hellhole of a city and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” he snarls, panting heavily and with a vibrant pink-toned flush on his cheeks.
Ed pouts. Just pouts, like a petulant child that’s been told no.
It almost sets Oswald off onto another rant.
“Fine,” Ed hisses then, licking his lips and looking around them before taking a deep breath, his eyes softening when he gazes down at Oswald. “It was me. I couldn’t bear to watch...you and those men- I just,” he exhales a bit shakily, his strong demeanor faltering, even if just for a moment. With another deep breath, and his chest puffing out, fingers reaching up to adjust the bowler hat, Ed continues, “I want you...for myself.”
Oswald squints his eyes, mouth dropping open.
Ed blinks, making a soft noise in the back of his throat. “Aren’t...aren’t you going to say something?”
Oswald opens and closes his mouth several times, before a kind of mumbled, “What did you just say?” escapes him.
“I want you for myself, Oswald,” Ed whispers, leaning down a little now, and nearly causing Oswald to sway on his feet, fluttering warmth rushing through him so fiercely it almost knocks Oswald’s heart out of his chest.
Finally, regaining both his sense of balance, and some sort of composure, Oswald huffs out a breath, a faint smile tugging on his lips. “You...are saying, you,” he pauses, ringing for words, “You want us to be…?”
Ed dares to smile a little now too. “Yes, if you want to, of course.”
Oswald gives him an incredulous look. “Do I really have to answer that?”
Ed’s shoulders slump a little, and he releases a soft laugh. “I guess not.”
“But, Ed?” Oswald says, placing a hand on Ed’s heaving chest. He feigns a smile and bats his eyelashes. “If you ever pull a stunt like this again, expect my wrath and revenge to be ferocious.”
Ed bites his lip in an obvious attempt from grinning. “I understand, and I’m sorry for having denied you the...joys of,” he clears his throat, now bringing a hand up to cup Oswald’s cheek, who gasps a little at the touch. “But I’m more than willing to make up for it.”
Oswald responds by leaning up to claim Ed’s lips in a heated kiss, not caring about the looks from the people around them, or the uttered out gasps and whispers now mixing in with the loud thrumming music.
Once they’re both out of breath, Oswald pulls away, looking up at Ed through hooded eyes. “I think it’s time then,” he says, reaching down to hook his fingers into the black belt around Ed’s waist. “For you to make up for all these weeks of forced abstinence.”
Ed smirks, unveiled lust now in his eyes. “Oh that I will.”