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Ed had placed a steaming hot bowl of soup on the nightstand, and grabbed a seat right next to bed. Obviously, there was no point in cooking the soup while Oswald was still asleep, but he couldn’t help doing so as if he was easily bored just watching the man. As creepy as it sounds, Ed was, of course, watching the man for medical reasons only. Definitely not because Edward enjoyed looking at the Penguin sleep, all snuggled up in Ed’s bed and comfy.
Having smelled the soup on the nightstand, Oswald sleepily rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn.
He might have carried the nickname Penguin, but Ed would compare his yawn to the one of a cat. A kitten, to be more precise.
“Rise and shine, Mr. Penguin!“ He exclaimed eagerly. “Are you feeling at least a bit better? I’ve made you a soup, it’s always the best remedy for—,“ he wasn’t able to finish the sentence as Oswald cut him off immediately.
“You drugged me! Kidnapped and drugged me right after!“ It was obvious Oswald was about to have one of his angry fits, which usually resulted in him shaking in anger and spitting all over the place as he shouted at anyone near him.
Ed had to react quickly if he didn’t want to have to deal with angry Penguin. “First of all, I haven’t kidnapped you. You came to me, asking for my help. So I helped, which brings me to the second point – yes, I drugged you, but for your own good-“ he was interrupted again.
“For my own good?!“
“You were sick, hurt and most of all exhausted. You needed to rest more than anything, but knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep you laying in my bed without any opposition from your side, yes, I drugged you.“
Oswald glared at him. At least it was better than having him blow up like one really angry Penguin volcano.
“So, if you will, please have a taste of the soup I made. It’s my mother’s recipe,“ he gestured his hand to the soup, which has already cooled down to a perfect temperature to be eaten.
Oswald glared at the soup, and then glared at Ed again. But the truth was that he was already getting really hungry. To make his point and show that he was not a bit pleased with the situation he was in, he sat up on the bed, took the bowl into his hands and remained glaring at everything around him. He took a sip from the soup, and to his surprise it tasted delicious.
“There was a spoon right next to the bowl, but feel free to drink it, I suppose,“ Edward shrugged with a tiny chuckle leaving his mouth.
Oswald gave a quick glance to the table and then went back to glaring at the soup bowl in his hands. He hasn‘t really noticed the spoon until then, but being a man with his pride, he pretended like drinking soup was completely natural to him.
“And, who exactly are you?“ He asked in between sipping the soup and shot a brief glare to Edward.
“Oh, you don’t remember me, do you? I’m Nygma, Edward Nygma. We met at the GCPD.“
“You’re a cop?!“ Oswald tried to move himself further from Edward, which only resulted in great deal of soup being spilled all over the bed.
“No, not a cop.“ Ed chuckled. “I’m in forensics.“
“And you’re helping me why?“
“If you have me, you want to share me. If you share me, you haven’t got me. What am I?“
“What?!“
“ A secret. The answer’s a secret.“
“So, you have a secret. What do I have to do with it?“ Oswald arched a brow at him, obviously annoyed but at least he wasn’t shouting. Yet.
“What secret you might ask? I’ve started murdering people!“ Edward laughed, looking rather crazy in that exact moment. “And that’s why I need your help, Mr. Penguin. You need to help me become like you. A well-known culprit.“
Oswald rolled his eyes and sipped his soup.
“Please?“
“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do,...Edward.“ It took him a couple of seconds to recall the man’s name.
“Yes, I do. Well, I don’t, but I really need your help, Mr. Penguin,“ Ed gulped, looking at Oswald with the best puppy eyed look he could pull out. “I feel like I need to grow, expand my experiences.“
“And you want to do that how?“
“By...killing more people?“
Oswald sighed and run a hand down his face. This was like a bad dream. Freezing somewhere in a forest seemed much more pleasant that being stuck in a flat with this blabbering idiot.
He definitely needed a way out, but he needed some time to gain his strenght back. Until then, he had to find a way to fool this fool. Being a man with his skill for dealing with situations, which he didn’t want to be in, he quickly came up with a solution.
“Fine, I’ll help you expand your experiences, but you need to convince me first.“
“Convince you about what?“ Ed didn’t understand.
“That you’re worthy of my help.“
--
Living with Edward Nygma was hard. And living with Oswald Cobblepot was even harder. Both of them had their own system when it came to living their daily lives, and those systems weren’t much alike. The only thing that the two men had in common was their sense for keeping things organised.
Oswald had grown to enjoy having servants around as he didn’t have to worry about cooking, when he had much more important tasks to perform. Edward, on the other hand, enjoyed cooking everything by himself. He even grew some tomatos in little flowerpots on his windowsill. Having Ed cook and prepare both their breakfast, lunch and dinners was almost like having a servant or a cook. But neither of Oswald’s employees were constantly asking him how to properly murder people. He had decided to ignore those requests, telling the other man that he hasn’t yet proven himself to be worthy of the Penguin’s advice. And honestly, Edward was really trying hard to make a good impression.
Oswald had to admit, Ed would make a good criminal. Working in the forensics of GCPD had probably taught him how to hide the evidence from police so they wouldn’t find it.
Five days have passed since Oswald was dragged to Ed’s place, three days since he’s woken up. He found Edward Nygma both extremely annoying and interesting. The man was one big secret to Oswald. One moment he was nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he tried to ask Oswald about something, the next second he was laughing maniacally and spilling riddles in every sentence he said.
Weirdly enough, he had grown to enjoy Edward’s company in small doses. He couldn’t spend too much time talking to him without getting annoyed, but there were times when Edward Nygma was an acceptable companion.
Ed was currently standing by the kitchen counter, cutting up carrots into tiny squares for a risotto he was making. Then he mixed them with butter and oil and added into a pot, which he placed on the stove.
“Could you please pass me salt and sugar?“ He asked, reaching his hand for Oswald to put the ingridients in it.
Oswald sighed and rolled his eyes, but he did as he was told. Ed was cooking dinner for both of them, after all. He searched the counter before handing both things over to Edward, frowning in confusion.
“Why are you putting sugar to the carrots? I thought the point of having a risotto wasn’t to make it sweet.“
Edward chuckled, as if the thing Oswald said was the biggest nonsense he ever heard. If he turned to face the other man, he would be able to spot a hint of an embarassed blush on Oswald’s face. He hated being laughed at.
“I’m making – Well, now, we’re making a risotto with caramelized carrots.“
“That sounds suspicious.“ Oswald mumbled.
“You’re suspicious of my cooking skills?“ Edward laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Just trust me with this one. You might be the criminal mastermind, but I know my cooking.“
Oswald didn’t expect he would find cooking a calming activity, but he was mistaken. Cooking with Ed by his side was quite relaxing. Mostly because Ed did most of the cooking and Oswald just handed him things. Their conversation flowed easily, they even had a couple of good laughs. This was one of the moments when Oswald found Ed more than just acceptable. And Ed couldn’t be happier to have someone to chat with while cooking.
They opened a bottle of red wine to go with the risotto they made. Oswald firstly complained about Ed’s choice of wine, the Penguin himself would have chosen something much more delicate, and of course, more expensive. Despise all Oswald’s complaints, the wine tasted amazing along with their risotto.
“You know, it was a long time since I had a dinner with someone,“ Oswald chuckled. The wine made him more talkative than he normally would be. It let him put all his guards down, and he was a blabbering mess, but a happy one indeed.
“Well, given that you’re still in treatment and that I still have to prove myself to you, I think you won’t be dining alone for some evenings to come.“ Ed grinned, sipping from his glass of wine.
“That, honestly, doesn’t sound that bad,“ Oswald smiled happily, filling up both of their glasses.
“We’re missing one thing, though. At the sound of me, men may dream or stamp their feet. At the sound of me, women may laugh or sometimes weep. What am I?“
“I will spit out the wine in your face if you don’t stop with the riddles,“ Oswald groaned, but it was visible that he was joking as he was still smiling widely.
“Music. I’m music. And we need music.“ Ed clapped his hands together and stood up from the chair. He accidentaly jolted the table as he was getting up, and the wine spilled onto the table from their glasses.
“I will pretend I did not see that.“ Oswald snorted.
Until this moment, Oswald hadn’t realised that Ed owned vinyls, let alone a turntable. But the clear sound of one couldn’t be mistaken for one of the new CD players. The Penguin closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, listening to the music Ed had put on.
Suddenly, he felt his heart ache. It took him couple of moments to figure out what caused his mood turn this sad. He recognised the song, it was an old lullaby his mother used to sing to him. He felt tears well up in his eyes, and he let them flow down his cheeks as he thought of his memories regarding his recently deceased mother, whom he loved with all his heart.
Oswald found himself sitting on Ed’s sofa, and telling the man everything about his mother as the lullaby played on loop in the background. He told him how she always loved her son more than anything, he told him how much he regretted not telling her about what he was doing. Maybe if he had warned her, told her that her son had became a mobster, maybe she would still be alive. He told him how Theo Galavan and his devilish sister had murdered his mother. She stabbed her in the back right in front of Oswald. He told him how he saw the spark in his mother’s eyes burn out, how she collapsed to the floor.
Oswald had spent most of that evening crying, drinking wine and softly singing along to the song that was playing. And Ed was there for him the whole time, holding the Penguin, and reassuring him that none of that was his fault.
--
Ed had woken up in the middle of the night, laying on the sofa, with both Oswald’s arms and legs wrapped around him, like a sad octopus. He did not let go of the man, even though his arms were already cramping from hugging Oswald tightly the whole evening. Edward pressed his nose in Oswald’s hair, breathing in the smell of it. Even though the Penguin hasn’t done anything special with his hair while he was staying with Ed, it still smelled of all the hair product he’d been using before. He smiled and kissed the man’s forehead before going back to sleep.
Oswald was awaken in the moment when Ed buried his face in his hair. He did not move, he did not make a sound. When a kiss was pressed to his forehead, he finally breathed out and couldn’t help but smile.
Edward Nygma was more than worthy of his guidance as a criminal. Even though it didn’t make much sense, Ed Nygma was worthy of Oswald’s love.