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On Monday morning, James Gordon sat in his big, fancy office as Gotham's Commissioner, reading the latest copy of The Gotham Times, where they printed a ridiculous story about him on page 12. They speculated he was dating a number of eligible young women, after the downfall of his marriage with Dr. Leslie Thompkins, only four years after they tied the knot. There were several pictures of him with different women, but all those photos had an explanation. Like the first one, Marcella Marchetti, she was a heiress to a candy bar fortune, who had come to Jim when she found out that some of her employees were stealing from her, and he had redirected her to the people that could help her. They had taken a photo of them as he walked her to the car, and pinned it like they were having a secret affair.
Jim knew that she had given him a few looks that implied that she was very interested, but he wasn't. Then there was another picture of him with another beautiful woman, who was the secretary of some member of the City Council, and in the picture she was looking at him like he was a rockstar. In contrast, Jim’s body language was closed off, his arms crossed over his chest. How could they use a picture like this to try and sell a story about them being together?
He read through the whole thing, shaking his head, finally throwing the newspaper in the bin as he heard someone knocking his office door, walking in without waiting for Jim’s response.
He already knew who it was, there was only one person in the building that thought he could just walk in anytime he wanted to because, well, he was the Mayor.
“Good morning, Jim.”
“Oswald,” he said as a form of greeting. This had become a habit, one that Jim strangely didn’t mind since they began working on the same building and now saw each other every day. It was usually Oswald the one who would go to Jim’s office, most of the time for no good reason at all, but Jim knew that he was constantly looking for excuses to visit Oswald’s office as well.
Oswald took a few steps to his paper bin, grabbing the thrown out copy of the newspaper.
“I take it that you didn’t like what they wrote about you,” he said with a teasing smile on his face.
“I can’t believe that they publish things like that, Gotham Times is supposed to be a serious newspaper.”
“They have a gossip section after all, Jim. So, you’re not dating any of these fine ladies?” he said, his eyes fixed on Jim.
“Not sure how that’s any of your business,” he said, keeping his tone light, as he grabbed a blue folder and began to check the files inside.
“Well, for what is worth, James, you do look gorgeous as always in these pictures.”
Jim raised his gaze and found Oswald staring at him, his sea green eyes so cleared and sparkly that Jim had to look away. Oswald had become increasingly flirty over the last few weeks, and that started doing things to Jim, things he wasn’t sure he wanted to feel for the head-of-the-mob-turned-Mayor-again.
“Thanks,” he said, as if he was distracted and wasn’t paying much attention to Oswald’s words, when in reality he liked the compliment very much. Women often told him as much, that he was handsome and beautiful, but it felt different when Oswald said it. Like it meant more, much more.
Oswald let out a sigh. “I better go, you don’t even have tea in this office, only a coffee machine,” he said, disappointed, walking towards the door, “that’s very rude to tea drinkers, Jim… very rude.”
Jim saw him close the door behind him.
-
On Tuesday, Jim was working on a report that he had to deliver to Oswald, even though every time Oswald walked into his office he talked about everything but the report.
There were two knocks on the door, and Jim felt a thrill in his stomach, but when nobody walked in he knew it wasn’t Oswald. Shaking his head, he admitted to himself that he was disappointed and took a mental note of that. He couldn’t remember when he started to feel like that, being thrilled by hearing the knocking on the door, knowing it was Oswald the one on the other side.
“Come in,” he said.
Kate, his secretary, opened the door and walked towards his desk, carrying a few folders with her.
“Good morning, Mr Gordon,” she said, “these are the cases you asked me to get you, they’re updated.” She put them on the desk and moved to the Nespresso machine, the one that Oswald had gifted to Jim shortly after Oswald had started working as the Mayor once again. “Fortissio lungo?” she asked, holding the capsule in her hand.
“Yes, please,” he had told her time and time again that he could make his own coffee, but she never listened.
When she brought him the cup of coffee, she had a shy smile on her face.
“Mr Gordon?”
“Yes, Kate?” he said as he added two sugars to his coffee.
“I was wondering… do you know that Valentine’s Day is next friday?” Jim hummed, thinking that she was going to ask him if she could leave earlier to be with the boyfriend he assumed she had, “well, I was wondering if you don’t have a date, maybe we could…”
Jim leaned back in his chair, putting a hand in the air to stop her. “Kate, that would be highly inappropriate, I’m sorry,” he said as kindly as possible.
“Oh, right, I apologize… I’m so ashamed.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She took several steps back, and when she turned around she bumped into Oswald.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr Mayor!”
“Please watch where you’re going next time, you almost stepped on my foot,” he said with his brows furrowed, pretending to be mad, just because he enjoyed keeping everybody on their toes, especially that young hussie who couldn’t keep her eyes off of Jim. She nodded, mortified, leaving Jim’s office.
Oswald turned to see Jim, who was looking at him after taking a sip of his coffee.
“James, how exhausting it must be to have to continuously turn down attractive people who are interested in you,” he said, letting out a sigh.
“Nah, I'm used to it,” he knew he was bragging, but it was worth it just to see how Oswald pursed his lips. Those lips that lately were constantly on his mind.
“Do you have a date for friday?” he asked as Jim rested his cup of coffee on the desk.
“Why? Are you going to invite me somewhere?” Jim said as he leaned in on the desk, keeping his tone of voice relaxed, realizing that this was the first time he was deliberately flirting back. Jesus.
“Right, like I want to be reject–” he stopped mid sentence as he looked at the little table with the Nespresso machine, that now had an electric kettle next to it and several unopened boxes of Twinings tea: earl grey, english breakfast, indian chai, irish breakfast, among others.
Jim saw how Oswald’s eyes sparkled with joy. When Oswald turned to look at him, he had a glint of determination on his emerald eyes.
“I see you took my suggestion to heart, Commissioner,” he said playfully as he walked to the table to prepare himself a tea. “You’re full of surprises,” he added, unable to hide the smile on his face.
Jim got up and walked towards him, taking the box of earl grey from his hand, his fingers brushing Oswald’s in the process. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, all he knew was that he was enjoying this and he wanted more of it. More of Oswald.
“Why don’t you sit down, Mr Mayor? I’ll make you some tea,” he said, and Oswald gave him a small smile, sitting down in one of the visitors chairs.
“Thank you, Jim, that’s very attentive of you. I have to say, you being commissioner has vastly improved your manners,” he said, his voice light and playful. “Actually, leaving that dirty precinct has done wonders for you.”
Jim couldn’t help but chuckle, but it wasn’t him being the commissioner what had improved his manners towards him or leaving the GCPD precinct.
“Milk?”
“Yes, a little, please, and just one sugar,” he said as he looked at Jim preparing his tea, thinking about how confidently Jim moved, adding the milk and sugar, although Oswald was sure he had never made tea before. It wasn’t rocket science, but most coffee drinkers were hopeless when it came to tea.
Jim was about to place the tea in front of Oswald, but Oswald moved his hands to grab the cup before Jim could place it on the desk, making their fingers touch again.
“Careful, it’s hot,” Jim said.
“I would say,” he said, looking at him suggestively.
Jim tried to repress a smile, unsuccessfully, and went to sit down across from him behind his desk. It wasn’t wise to stir up Oswald’s possible feelings for him, and it was probably the worst idea ever considering that Jim was starting to admit to himself the undeniable attraction that had always been there between them, and possibly even going as far as to acknowledge that he was developing feelings for Oswald as well. He may be the Mayor again, but he was still Oswald, and Jim was sure that he still ran the underworld. In spite of it all, he was enjoying Oswald’s flirtation a little too much.
“So, Jim,” he said, his eyes fixed on Jim’s, the smile of his face showing how pleased he felt, “do you celebrate Valentine’s Day?”
Jim took a sip of coffee, knowing he should shoot this down before it began to become a thing, but part of him didn’t want to stop.
“I celebrate it when I have a partner… but I’m currently single.”
“Interesting,” he said, purposely looking mischievous.
“Why is that?”
“Single and ready to mingle, huh?”
Jim let out a genuine laugh. “I think the last time I heard anyone using that expression was my grandmother.”
“People still use it.”
“No, it’s not hip anymore.”
Oswald chuckled. “Hip is just as outdated, old friend,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. “Mmm, this is delicious, Jim,” he added, his tongue licking the rest of the tea off his lips, watching how Jim followed the movement with his eyes. A smug smile pulled at Oswald’s lips and Jim had to look away.
“Did you know that in some parts of the world, Valentine’s Day is the day of love and friendship?”
“I didn’t know that, no,” Jim said, looking down at the cup of coffee between his hands, because if he looked at Oswald right now he knew he was going to have to see that smug smile again, and Oswald looked too good with a smile like that. And since when did he have this unbearable urge to kiss him?
“Well, maybe you’ll receive some yellow roses… those symbolize friendship.”
“I would get yellow roses? not red ones?” Jim asked, surprised, before he could stop himself. He shouldn’t be flirting back, what was he thinking? He tried to focus on Oswald’s eyes, in those pretty pretty eyes, because all he could think about were those lips.
“I mean, seeing that you’re going to spend Valentine’s Day all alone, you poor thing, because nobody wants you, obviously, maybe someone would take pity on you and send you some yellow roses,” he teased.
“Oh, I see,” he said, picking up a pencil and playing with it on his fingers, “well, maybe you’ll get some yellow roses too.”
“Me? Yellow roses? Oh, I better not,” he affirmed decidedly, shaking his head.
“Why not?” Jim asked, amused at Oswald’s reaction.
“Because, Jim…” he said, sighing, “I like red roses, and red roses I shall get. They symbolize love, passion, courage,” he said, finishing his tea.
Jim chuckled. “Maybe you should tell that to your love interest.”
He rose up, pressing the palm of his hand to the desk, a roguish smile pulling at his lips as he said, “I believe I just did.”
–
On Wednesday, Jim was thinking about buying Oswald some chocolates for Valentine’s Day. Just in case, he kept telling himself. He wasn’t sure if he was going to give it to him, but he just wanted to be prepared in case Oswald gave something to him.
Bracing his elbows on the desk, he massaged his temples. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. He remembered when they first met, Oswald used to look at him with flirty eyes, but nothing as blatant as this. For a few weeks now, Oswald was being as obvious as possible with his words and with the way he looked at Jim, completely unabashed. There was not even a trace of shame there anymore, he was making it perfectly clear to Jim that he wanted him.
Yes, he decided, he was going to get him some chocolate truffles.
He thought about getting him a classic box of Ferrero Rocher bonbons, it was a delicious choice, but it occurred to him that maybe it was too common. The next brand that came to mind was Lindt truffles, he couldn’t go wrong with Swiss chocolate. But then again, although pricey, they were too known. He knew Oswald enough to know that he needed to get him the very best of the best, as Oswald had a refined taste (or at least Oswald liked to think that he had).
Jim left the office at lunch time to go to the upscale part of town, and got into a fancy chocolate store. Everybody was going nuts buying truffles in boxes and heart shaped boxes, lips shaped boxes.
“How can I help you, monsieur?” a salesman with kind eyes approached him.
Jim let out a big breath. He had never done this before, not even for Barbara or Lee. He just got them the regular chocolate boxes that he could find at the grocery store for eight dollars.
“I’m looking for the best chocolate bonbons or truffles you can sell me,” he felt a little ashamed, adding, “the man I’m going to give this to is very into luxury and–” he wanted to say ridiculous, but settled for another word, “–exclusive items.”
“You came to the right place,” he said, grabbing something from behind him. “I can offer you this Godiva beautiful red velvety box, filled with Belgian chocolate, for only USD 300,” the salesman said, leaning against the counter and showing him a red box shaped like a heart.
Three hundred dollars for a box of chocolates!? Had everyone gone mad!?
“I think perhaps it’s too early to get him anything that’s heart shaped,” Jim said, sweating. This was insane, he was buying chocolates for Oswald! For Valentine’s Day! What the–
“Another spectacular choice is this, Le Royale Collection 54, from Debauve & Gallais’, French, of course,” he pulled a rectangular white and blue box and opened it for Jim to see, “there are 54 luxury pieces of dark and milk chocolate of this special and limited collection… very exclusive.”
Everytime Jim heard the word ‘exclusive’, all he could think about was his money flying away.
“This beautiful box is only USD 285.”
Again with that word. Only.
Jim winced. Sure, he could pay for this now that he was the Commissioner, but spending such a high amount of money on chocolates was almost against everything he believed in. But this was for Oswald, who did enjoy these kinds of things, and truth be told, Jim wanted to woo him.
“Fine, I’ll take that.”
“Excellent choice, monsieur, I’ll wrap it up for you.”
Soon after, Jim was in his living room, placing the box in the middle of his dining table. He didn’t even know if he was going to give the box to Oswald.
–
On Thursday, everyone at the office was talking about Valentine’s Day. The women gathered in small groups to gossip about their men and talked about love and engagement rings and weddings.
A small light on the phone in his office began to flicker and Jim picked up, knowing it was Kate.
“Yes, Kate?”
“Mr Gordon, Mr Cobblepot has requested your presence in his office.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now, sir.”
Jim grabbed the report he had been working on. This time he was sure they were going to discuss this issue as it had to be handled as quickly as possible.
Jim knocked two times on the door, and just as Oswald did, he entered the office.
"Jim," he said, and Jim loved how his name sounded on those lips, he always liked how Oswald called his name, like he was happy to see him, even when they were at odds. It seemed like the last time that happened was a long long time ago.
Jim walked up to the desk, trying to ignore the fact that Oswald was eating an ice-cream cone.
"I thought we were going to discuss the Smith case," he said, placing the folder over Oswald's desk.
"Please do sit down, Jim, we will discuss the case in a minute," he said with a serious tone, his tongue getting white after licking the ice cream as he looked into Jim's eyes.
Jim swallowed hard. He knew exactly what Oswald was trying to do, and it was working, Jim couldn't look away, not even if he tried.
"Oswald… isn't it a little early to eat dessert at this time?" he checked his wrist watch, "it's only 11:42, if you're hungry you should have lunch."
"I'm not hungry, Jim," he made a gesture to offer him some ice cream.
"No, thanks."
Oswald raised the cone to his lips, his tongue circling the rim to catch any possible drops that were about to fall. He did it slowly, his eyes fixed on Jim's, the expression on his face was anything but innocent. "I have a confession to make, Jim.”
“What would that be?”
Oswald gave him a perverse smile. “I have always been curious as to what you would look like when eating an ice cream cone."
Jim chuckled lightly at Oswald's willingness to take such a bold risk and say something like that to his face. "You know, I could file a complaint against you for sexual harassment," Jim said with a smirk.
"James," he said, putting his hand over his chest for dramatic effect as if he was scandalized, "I’m talking about an ice-cream cone, I’m sorry if your perverted mind went elsewhere, I don't know what to tell you… it's just an ice cream cone."
"Fine. Give me a taste," he extended his hand to take the cone in his hand.
Oswald leaned in over the desk, his elbows pressed against the top, "no, without your hands, you can taste it like this," he said as he brought the cone closer to Jim's lips.
Looking at Oswald, Jim licked the ice cream, moving his tongue in swirls, getting it pink and white and brown as he tried all the flavors at the same time. Oswald's eyes were fixed on Jim's tongue, following the movements, and a light blush covered his cheeks.
Suddenly Oswald pulled the cone back to himself, "that's enough, you're going to eat it all," he said, looking at the cone, and giving it a shy lick, barely sticking his tongue out.
Jim smiled. “You have a little…” he gestured to his own lips, implying that Oswald had ice cream on his lips, and then moved his hand to his cheeks, “a little blush there.”
“It’s just the lighting, Jim,” he said nervously.
Jim nodded as if he agreed, realizing that when Oswald flirted with him, he was bold and daring when he was the one who started the flirtation and had the upper hand, but if Jim followed his game and flirted back, Oswald got nervous and pulled back all blushed up.
“Should we discuss the Smith case now?”
“Yes, please.” Oswald said.
–
Friday finally arrived, and with it the collective hysteria for Valentine’s Day. As soon as Jim walked in through the doors of City Hall, almost every female coworker had a bouquet of flowers on their desk, some had a single rose, others nothing.
“Good morning, Kate,” Jim greeted as he opened his office, showing up empty handed.
“Good morning, Mr Gordon, happy Valentine’s Day,” she said shyly.
He gave her a small smile and disappeared into his office. Ten minutes later, Kate walked into his office and put a small bouquet of 12 yellow roses on his desk.
“Mr Gordon, they arrived this morning for you, the note is sealed with wax.”
“Thank you,” he said, waiting for her to leave him alone so he could take a better look at it. It was a beautiful bouquet, and before he broke the seal of the note, he already knew these were from Oswald.
My dear old friend,
As we walk together in the light, I hope
you remember that you’ll always
have a friend to walk in the dark as well,
if you ever need one.
O.C.
He smiled, taking the bouquet and placing it over the coffee table. It was a nice gesture from Oswald, although part of him was a little disappointed that he got yellow roses instead of red.
Not even 10 minutes later, Kate walked in again with another bouquet, this time it was a bigger, colorful bouquet with different flowers that also had a wax sealed note attached to the velvety red bow. He didn’t know much about flowers, but he was sure that Oswald selected these for a reason, it wasn’t just a random bouquet of pretty flowers.
Jim inspected the bouquet from up close and heard Kate sighing behind him.
“That is so romantic, Mr Gordon, I apologize for the intrusion, but oh,” she placed her hand on her chest, “I love love! And the meaning behind each of them, awww, it’s just…”
“Do you know what these mean?”
“Of course!” she said excitedly.
She got closer to the bouquet and started pointing at them.
“Let’s start with the obvious, red roses mean love, desire, and romance, these purple heliotropes mean eternal love! Oh, I love those,” she said, interlacing her fingers for a moment, looking ecstatic as if the flowers were for her. “These pink camellias symbolize longing for someone, in this case, longing for you, oh isn’t that just beautiful! And these red camellias represent admiration... affection,” she added, “it’s a really beautiful bouquet full of meaning.”
Jim touched one of the purple flowers that she hadn’t commented on, “and these? what are these?”
“They’re violets, they represent loyalty and devotion.”
Jim chuckled. Since when? he thought. Although…
“I almost forgot these,” she said, pointing to little buds of white flowers spreaded all over the bouquet, “these are yarrow flowers, they mean healing and also mean love.”
“So, none of these flowers mean ‘I’m going to stab you in your sleep’ or ‘I want you dead’?”
She laughed like he was joking, “oh no, these are all about love.”
“Thank you, Kate, for solving the mystery. I couldn’t have deciphered any of that on my own.”
She moved to prepare him coffee, and before he could protest she was looking for a specific capsule on the box next to the Nespresso machine.
He hoped that she would get some flowers that day as well, because she was a nice girl with a good heart.
“How about a Caramel Creme Brulee for today, on Valentine’s Day?” she asked, holding the capsule in her hand, and giving him a warm smile.
He nodded. “Thank you Kate.”
After she served his coffee and left, Jim quickly grabbed the note and opened it.
My dear James,
I was going to write you a poem, but found one
from the great Pablo Neruda that says it best:
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
I wish you a very Happy Valentine’s Day.
Yours (always),
Oswald Cobblepot.
Jim felt his heart beating fast in his chest as he read the note, suddenly feeling all the love flowing through him. He had been a coward, waiting for Oswald to make the first move instead of sending him what he had gotten for him.
He grabbed his phone and typed a text message.
You can send them now, please.
He put the phone back in the pocket of his jacket and left his office, hanging out around Kate’s space where he could spot Oswald’s office at the end of the corridor.
A few moments later, he saw a man delivering a bouquet of red roses and a box to Oswald’s office.
“Do you need anything, Mr Gordon?” Kate asked, seeing how strangely he was behaving around her desk.
“Eehh, no,” he said distractedly, going back to his office.
He couldn't remember the last time he had so much fun on Valentine's Day. He would’ve loved to see Oswald’s face when he received the box of chocolates and the bouquet of 24 red roses he sent him, along with a handwritten note.
His thoughts were interrupted when he got a call from the captain of the GCPD that took most of his morning. By the time the call ended, it was almost time to have lunch.
Jim decided to pay a little visit to the Mayor, and see what he was up to. As customary, he knocked two times on the door and walked in, feeling the nerves sitting in his stomach.
“Jim,” Oswald said cheerfully as he put another piece of chocolate in his mouth.
“I see you’re having a sweet tooth problem at this hour.”
Oswald looked at him while he sucked on the chocolate, melting in his mouth.
“I wanted to thank you for the flowers…” he said, feeling suddenly nervous, “and the note, and the poem…”
Oswald hummed, “did you like the poem, Jim?” he asked, taking another piece of chocolate in his fingers.
“I did,” he said, scratching the back of his head.
Oswald smiled and got up, walking around his desk, "I loved your note, Jim," he said as he reached for it with his free hand, and read it:
"To the man with the prettiest eyes I have ever seen.
Happy Valentine’s Day, old friend.
- James Gordon.”
“That's… quite the compliment," he said, the expression on his face showing the happiness he felt.
Jim blushed lightly, feeling like a teenager who just exchanged gifts for the first time on Valentine's Day. "Oh, I sent that to you? That was for Susie on the first floor," he teased.
"Jim!” he shoved him lightly, “you're lying, the note was addressed to me.”
Jim laughed. "Of course it was for you."
"I didn't know you liked my eyes," Oswald said, fluttering his eyelashes coquettishly.
"They're insanely beautiful, Oswald, so captivating and… enchanting," he said, stuck into the moment, taking a few steps closer to him.
Oswald lowered his gaze for a few moments, to what Jim thought was to take courage, and then fixed his eyes on Jim's. “You– you have beautiful eyes too, Jim,” he said, his cheeks covered in a light pink hue, “those deep blue eyes, so beautiful and alluring, and kind,” he added shyly, “they reflect all the goodness in you, Jim.”
Jim smiled, feeling the compliment warm his heart.
"You really should eat that before it melts any further," he said, pointing at the piece of chocolate Oswald was holding between his fingers.
“Oh, yes,” he said, putting the small piece of chocolate into his mouth, moving it to one of his cheeks to add, “can you please pass me the paper towels over there?”
“There’s no need,” Jim said, taking Oswald’s fingers full of chocolate and raising them to his mouth, slowly wrapping his lips around his fingers.
Oswald stood there like he was frozen, watching enraptured as Jim sucked on his fingers without taking his eyes off of him, feeling Jim’s tongue working on sucking off all the chocolate.
“Jim…”
Jim licked his fingers until there wasn’t a trace of chocolate left.
“I couldn’t really taste the filling, though,” he said after he licked them clean.
Oswald looked at him with eyes wide open, his sticky fingers now laced with Jim’s, “I- er, raspberry, but I think it was the only one in the box with that filling.”
“You’re going to have to give me a taste then,” Jim said, moving his hand to Oswald’s nape, his fingers barely brushing his dark hair, pulling him closer.
Jim bumped his nose against Oswald’s lightly, twice, before pressing his lips against his, giving him a delicate kiss. Oswald let his hand travel from Jim’s chest until his fingers were buried in his blonde hair, his other hand grabbing him by the side of his face, adding more pressure to the kiss. He boldly nudged his tongue against Jim's lower lip, making Jim part his lips for him, letting him lick inside his mouth, their tongues tasting each other as Jim tasted the raspberry chocolate on Oswald’s tongue.
It was a very long awaited kiss, Jim thought as he swirled his tongue against Oswald’s, tasting him, his hands pulling him closer until he felt Oswald melting against him.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Oswald," he said against his lips.
Jim felt Oswald's smiling before he said, "happy Valentine's Day, Jim."
"I'll pick you up at 8:00 pm, if that's alright with you," Jim said without breaking the embrace.
“Where are you going to take me?”
“I made a reservation at an Italian restaurant,” he said as he caressed his back, moving his face to whisper in his ear, "and afterwards I'll show you what I really looked like when eating an ice-cream cone."
Oswald gave him a naughty smile, placing a lingering kiss against Jim’s lips.
“It’s a date.”
They kissed again and again, feeling like they had finally come home. They would remember that day forever as their favorite Valentine's Day.