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Slowly, Oswald brought his wine glass to his lips, staring out the window. The moon was hovering high above the dark city in all her delicate beauty, showering Gotham with her light and illuminating each building in a gentle, silver glow. Stars lay speckled across the darkness; backup dancers to the lead performer. Oswald particularly admired how all the clouds seemed to have cowered away from centre stage, not daring to obstruct her excellence.
The moment his head tilted away from the window, he felt another presence in the room. A quick glance to his left revealed a flash of green, confirming his suspicions.
“You’re home late,” Oswald stated neutrally.
“Work required more of my attention than I’d originally predicted, I’m sorry.”
Edward poured himself a glass of wine, joining him by the window and settling his free hand on Oswald’s waist. Ed’s gaze followed his momentarily before finding the way the moonlight highlighted Oswald’s features much more interesting.
“I could ask Olga to reheat some food for you.” Oswald twisted to look at Ed, their close proximity forcing him to tilt his head back slightly as his eyebrows furrowed.
“I’m worried about you getting enough to eat.”
A fond smile pulled at Ed’s lips, but his eyes were distant, almost staring straight through him. Oswald’s frown deepened as he reached up and tenderly held Ed’s cheek, watching as his eyes slowly fell shut and a quiet sigh escaped him. Oswald knew he had a habit of becoming concerned over small matters, but this wasn’t an unreasonable worry. Ed had a tendency to become completely absorbed in his work, often favouring it over necessary activities such as eating and sleeping.
“I’m fine, Oswald.”
“If you’re sure.” Oswald’s hand fell from Ed’s face to his shoulder, lingering there.
“I am.” Edward lifted the hand off his shoulder, running his thumb over each knuckle before returning it to Oswald’s side.
Oswald nodded, the moon now completely forgotten as he stared up at Edward. Oswald would gladly trade the celestial body that hung in the sky for the one stood by his side any day. When the days became dark and hopeless, the nights even more so, Ed was always close by, ready to be something solid for him to lean on if needed. His presence alone was enough to bring some peace in the chaos. Gotham was ever-changing, but one thing remained the same: Ed was always by his side. As far as Oswald was concerned, not a single one of the stars could outshine Edward.
The realisation that he’d been staring at Ed for quite a while would’ve made him panic years ago, scrambling to quickly move on with the conversation to avoid awkwardness. Now, he stood unapologetically drinking in every detail, comforted by the knowledge that Ed was doing the exact same.
Now that he’d begun to think about it, Oswald couldn’t pinpoint exactly when their comfortable domesticity had started, but he wasn’t complaining. He loved the way they had slipped into a soft intimacy so effortlessly, and he loved the weightless feeling of being in Ed’s presence. He loved the side of Ed that was reserved for him and him alone. The small smiles and the cheerful laughs that were seen by no one but Oswald. The world saw The Riddler, but he saw Ed. And Oswald loved Ed. He also loved that he could finally think and say that without even the slightest fear of rejection gnawing at his heart.
After ten agonising years in Blackgate with no contact, something had shifted between them. They had become inseparable when they reunited; a mutual reaction to their isolation from each other. Oswald had insisted Ed moved in with him, and there was no objection. To his delight, this actually proved to be a catalyst for their relationship, helping them to fall into a rhythm that felt natural. Not a day went by where they didn’t see each other, and Oswald wouldn’t have it any other way. Although they hadn’t specifically put a label on the bond between them, it was what they both saw it as: Love. And that was enough for them.
Not wishing to disturb the blissful silence that had settled between them, Oswald gently placed his wine glass on a nearby table and gestured wordlessly for Ed to do the same. Ed raised a curious eyebrow, but proceeded to follow the instruction as Oswald disappeared to the other side of the room.
Edward knew that sparkle in Oswald’s eyes. He‘d known him for long enough to understand what it meant, but never long enough to figure out what he had in mind. In a way, the Penguin was Edward’s riddle. Not just any riddle, however. Oswald could never be boiled down to just any riddle. No, Oswald was the kind of question that took time and dedication to answer, every word being reread and still the answer remaining a mystery. He could spend a whole lifetime trying (and failing) to solve the enigma that was Oswald Cobblepot, if he wanted. Lucky for them, he did.
Ed’s eyes watched Oswald curiously as he fussed with the record player, before the silence was eventually broken. A soft smile spread across Edward’s face as he heard the familiar, beautiful sound of the song’s introduction, the presence of the strings drifting into the space between them like a gentle breeze, blowing away any troubles of the day and allowing him to focus on the one person deserving of his attention.
Oswald turned, extending a hand to Ed with a charming smile that he found almost too endearing.
“May I have this dance, Edward?”
Edward. Ed had grown to adore how Oswald occasionally called him that. Most people simply referred to him as ‘Ed’, spitting the sound from their mouths as quickly as they could, like they couldn’t bear the taste of it. Oswald calling him Edward no longer felt like an insult like it had when he refused to call him the Riddler, it felt meaningful. He didn’t rush over his name, but pronounced it slowly and deliberately, savouring it. Oswald made Edward’s name sound like it was meant to be spoken only by him. Ed could barely remember what it had felt like, the burning hatred of Oswald for daring to speak his name. Now, that voice could only warm his heart.
The day had been beyond tiring, filled with halfwits asking him foolish questions and even more halfwits being utterly incompetent, and in that moment Ed wanted nothing more than to dance with Oswald. After all, when faced with that look from those soft, bright eyes of his that never failed to melt the cold logician’s heart, how could he refuse?
He placed his hand in Oswald’s, allowing himself to be led closer to the golden glow of the fireplace. Carefully, as if any sudden movements would shatter the fragile cocoon the two of them were protected by, Oswald let the knuckles of his hand ghost over Edward’s cheek, his heart fluttering as Ed leaned into the touch.
At last… my love has come along… My lonely days are over… and life is like a song…
They stood together quietly for a moment, soaking in each prolonged syllable that floated in the air around them, rising swells of strings complimenting each one perfectly. Some words were whisper-soft, similar to the way Ed’s eyes looked in the firelight, others strong and passionate with the ability to command the attention of their audience, but they all connected to create a brilliantly moving love song. Oswald hoped Ed was listening closely to the words; he had chosen this song for a reason.
Edward took Oswald’s cane and leaned it against the wall next to the fireplace, catching a huff of discomfort from Oswald at the loss of the assistance. Instinctively, Ed guided Oswald’s hand to his shoulder, acting as something solid for him to lean against. Whether it was through the emotional hardships of life, when all seemed lost and hope had abandoned them, or in a more physical sense, Ed would always be there for Oswald. He could count on him to do that. Right now, he didn’t want this to be an unpleasant experience for him. Oswald responded by taking his weight off his injured foot and placing it on him, his face relaxing considerably as his free hand glided to the nape of Ed’s neck.
As soft as the music that surrounded them, their foreheads pressed against each other, a satisfied sigh escaping Oswald’s lips. Ed’s hands found their home on Oswald’s waist once again, his eyes shutting and, for once, he allowed himself to just… feel. The warmth of the fire, Oswald’s thumb stroking the back of his neck, the material of the suit underneath his own hands, the gentle contact of their connected foreheads.
It was heavenly.
Oh yeah, yeah, at last… the skies above are blue…
Oswald began to sway them to the music, his eyes also falling closed. He can’t remember the last time their lives had slowed down enough for a true moment of peace, much less at the same time. Although he mourned the lack of privacy they got, it was always made up for when times like these came around and, in the comfort of their home, he was able to keep Ed all to himself.
My heart was wrapped up in clover… The night I looked at you…
Powerful vocals dominated the room, seizing the attention until Ed piped up, voice low but undeniably pleased to share a fact with his unimpressed company.
“Did you know that Penguins have often been seen rubbing their heads against their mates as a sign of affection? At least, people like to think it’s for affectionate reasons, but when you look at the behavioural studies, you’ll find it’s just—“
“Shush, please.”
I found a dream… that I could speak to… a dream that I can call my own…
Oswald shifted his head to Ed’s shoulder, pulling him into an embrace as they continued to move to the music, bodies rocking steadily in unison. Although the ache in his leg was slowly becoming less bearable, the last thing he wanted was to ruin this precious moment. Ed’s arms snaked around Oswald’s frame, his head ducking into his shoulder. Oswald didn’t even attempt to fight off the smile that lit up his features, but a part of him wondered what was so appealing about that spot, considering that Ed seemed to seek it out each time they found themselves in this position. Perhaps he found comfort in being able to hide from the world there, even if it was momentarily.
They moved, and the room moved with them; crackling flames danced behind them, a mimicry of the movement of the two men as they swayed. Shadows played around them, bouncing from one spot to another. Everything was alive with the music, watching their display, listening to their muttered words. God, how Oswald wished they could stay like this forever, wrapped in each other’s arms.
I found a thrill to press my cheek to… a thrill that I have never known… oh yeah, yeah…
“I love you.” Oswald whispered into Edward’s ear, voice low enough that only Ed would be able to hear it, as though there was anyone else who could possibly be listening. The flames that engulfed the logs wouldn't be let in on the conversation, and if the walls had ears, the words wouldn’t reach them, either. This was for Edward and Edward alone. It was just them against the world, exactly how it was meant to be. Damn the rest of them.
Slowly, Ed leaned back to look Oswald in the eye, a smile on his face that he reserved just for him.
You smiled, you smiled… oh, and then the spell was cast… and here we are in Heaven…
“I love you, too.”
Four simple words that held the weight of the world for Oswald. There was a time when he believed he’d never hear them spoken by Ed, but now he believed he’d never tire of hearing them.
For you are mine…
The world would only ever see them as The Penguin and The Riddler; cruel, heartless criminals whose only goal was to gain power and kill all those who opposed them. But those views didn’t matter much to them. They knew the truth.
…at last.