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Oswald stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his vest and fixing his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to wipe the sour look off his face.
“I could stay,” Ed says as he walks up behind him.
“No,” Oswald says sternly. “You are the last person who should be at this… brunch .” The word falls from Oswald’s mouth as though it tastes like dirt.
Ed doesn’t argue, but Oswald can see it on his face, in his eyes. He doesn’t want Jerome anywhere near Oswald, not after what he’s done.
Ed made the mistake of telling Oswald what a bad idea it was, letting Jerome and his merry band of lunatics into their home.
Oswald got right into Ed’s face, all 5 feet and 6 inches of compact rage, and told him what he did in his home was his business, and that he could take care of himself, and if Ed didn’t agree he could go back to the Narrows and stay there.
It wasn’t the first fight they’d had since their moment on the pier. They were still figuring things out, trying to find their footing around each other. Oswald let his heart win over his rage, telling Ed he could stay with him at the mansion. Honestly, Oswald didn’t want to go back there alone. He didn’t want to be alone and Ed was his only choice. The obvious one.
Oswald was nervous when he invited Ed to come with him. He was afraid he made a mistake, that things couldn’t go back to how they were, back when Oswald was mayor and he and Ed shared a space, a home , and fit together like puzzle pieces.
But he was wrong. After an awkward start, they settled back into place, back into that familiar domesticity they seem to fall into without realizing it.
It was a relief, but also sent sirens and alarms off in every part of Oswald. He couldn’t get too comfortable. If something were to happen between them again, like it did before, he’d -
He feels Ed’s hands on his shoulders. Oh. He’s helping Oswald put on his blazer.
Oswald catches the taller man’s eyes in the mirror. An exact replica of when Ed would help him get ready for the public eye. His heart jumps.
“I know you can take care of yourself,” Ed says, as Oswald slips his arms through the sleeves of the velvet jacket. “And I know you have plans for Jerome.”
“But?” Oswald prompts.
Ed runs his hands over Oswald’s arms and up his shoulders, running his fingers softly though the faux fur collar.
“But nothing,” Ed says. “Tell Jerome if he ever wants a spot on The Riddle Factory, he’s got one.”
Oswald snorts. He steps off the small platform and turns to face Ed, who is still staring at him, swallowing him with dark eyes.
“Speaking of, I should… get going,” Ed says, clearing his throat.
Oswald is amused at the fact that Ed commutes to… work, Oswald supposes he could call it. Although it’s just an excuse for Ed to be as theatrical as he wants to be, all while exploiting others for not being as clever as he is.
“Oh, before you go,” Oswald says, brushing past Ed. He grabs a small box from the table and hands it to Ed. “I had something made for you when I went to have my suit tailored.”
Ed smiles, taking the offered box.
“Still picking out my clothes,” he says.
“Old habits die hard,” Oswald replies.
Ed opens the box to reveal a tie. A tie in the same color velvet as Oswald’s suit. He stares down at it and his mouth twitches, emotions flitting through him at lightning speed. He lands on one and looks at Oswald.
“Purple and green go so well together, don’t you think?” Oswald asks, his voice gentle but his words heavy.
“A splendid contrast,” Ed says softly.
Oswald steps aside so Ed can replace his usual skinny black tie with the new one.
Ed smoothes his hand over the fabric, fingers lingering over the soft velvet.
“It’s perfect,” he says looking at Oswald through the mirror. You’re perfect . “I love it.” I love you .
He turns and steps closer to Oswald, taking him in. He is in constant awe of Oswald, how resilient he is. Ed can confidently say he’s seen Oswald at his lowest, his worst, at absolute rock bottom, but he’s also been there when Oswald climbs his way to the top. Awed, but never surprised. It’s one of the reasons way Ed fell in love with him.
“Thank you,” Ed says. They’re so close, the tips of their shoes almost touching.
With whatever courage Ed can collect, he throws caution to the wind and leans down, and to his surprise Oswald meets him halfway.
The kiss is soft, a stark contrast to the one they shared on the pier. That was bloody and desperate.
This is soft and sweet, a sigh of relief.
Ed brings his arms around Oswald’s waist, under the jacket, pulling him in. Oswald goes willingly, hands holding onto Ed’s arms.
It’s not perfect, it never was. They’ve always been messy and tragic, but somehow they find each other. One will always be a beacon for the other to find their way back home.