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Oswald Cobblepot sits in the Iceberg Lounge, the hand that grips the umbrella shaking slightly. He was on a date, with a beautiful woman. She had charmed him with her kindness and basic human decency, but halfway through he had realised that both of their smiles were fake. His thoughts started to spiral, and he was sure that she just wanted to get close enough to him and humiliate him. After all, who wouldn’t? He knows that he looks odd. Disgusting. With that beak of his, and his eccentric taste, why wouldn’t people hate the Penguin? Oswald scowls at the table, and walks, fiddling with his umbrella. He won’t cry. Crying is improper, and word will leak to the newspapers, and once again he will lose all respect. He must have respect.
Eventually, he reaches the aviary, and steps inside, his heart leaping at the sound of birdsong, their beautiful voices mingling together. He lets out a little “wauk” and starts to smile. He sits inside the aviary, a peaceful smile on his face, watching a great tit as it hops on some twigs. Birds fly together, dance together, and he adores them. Why couldn’t humans be as beautiful as these delightful little creatures? His smile widens as a little fledgling European Starling hops towards him. He holds out one of his fingers, and the starling flies up to his finger. They look at each other, and Oswald feels pure joy as it makes its hungry little screaming noise. He reaches into his pocket, and gives it some bird seed, making delighted little quacking noises. He gently strokes it, and everything in the room is happy.
After half an hour, Oswald Cobblepot leaves the aviary, knowing that he will find it harder and harder to leave. The birds fill him with happiness, fix his mood. Now that he is gone, the anxiety starts to come back. He wants to see his little friends again, but he has been putting this off for too long. Hands shaking, he reaches for his phone.
“Riddle me this, Oswald, what makes you call me at this hour?”
“Edward, I… I think I need… your… knowledge…”
“Well, everyone wishes they were as smart as me, I’d be constantly on the phone if that was enough to make people call me.”
“Eddie. You… you’re experienced with… manners of… the… opposite sex?”
There is a pause. “And the same sex. Any sex, Ozzie. Great sex, if I do say so myself.”
Oswald quacks nervously. “Yes, well, um… I… I think there’s something wrong with me…”
“Of course there is, we’ve both been in Arkham, remember!”
“I mean… I… I need a wife… and… I seem to fail in all romantic endeavours…”
“Hm?”
“I… can never seem to… um… I…”
“Ozzie? You seem upset, do you want me to come over to the Lounge?”
There is a pause. “I… would appreciate that…”
Ten minutes later, Edward Nygma strolls into the Iceberg Lounge twirling his cane, and Oswald waves him over to his table. He sits opposite him.
“Ozzie, you look terrible,” the Riddler says matter-of-factly. Indeed, Oswald Cobblepot’s hands are shaking.
“Edward, I can’t feel that pull. I… there’s women… and… whenever they’re nice to me, I think I love them… but it never goes right… it never stays…” he says in a hushed voice.
“Hm. Have you tried men?”
Oswald sputters and quacks incredulously. “Well, I think I would certainly know if I like men!”
Edward raises an eyebrow. “Do you like women?”
“… I… have to… right? That’s the… normal… right? No offence, Edward,”
The Riddler lets out a little chuckle. “None taken, Oswald! But… it sounds like you’re not really doing this for yourself, are you?”
“… I have to… I have to…”
“I can be snared with a glance, and if you try to capture me I’ll leave. What am I?”
“… Love, isn’t it? I… I love my birds. I love hearing them. I love the aviary. But… I don’t feel the same way about anyone else. That’s what romance is meant to feel like, right?”
There is a pause. “I appear once in a day, never in a month, twice in a thousand years. What am I?”
Oswald hesitates as he solves this. “The letter A?”
“I think you should seriously look at aromanticism. See if it fits you.”
“But… but… I can’t be… one of them – I mean, you – right? It’s… w-well… it’s not… normal… right?”
Edward raises an eyebrow. “You’re a Rogue. You always carry an umbrella. You’re friends with more birds than people. You’re not normal,” he says, with a chuckle. Oswald’s eyes widen, and his mouth hangs open a little, in a frown. Edward hesitates.
“You might not be normal, but that’s not a bad thing. You’re special. We’re special.”
“…What is romance? What is romantic? What do romantic couples usually do?”
“Well, they usually go on dates, which is like hanging out but romantic, and kiss each other, and be intimate and affectionate with each other, and love each other. Sometimes they give each other flowers?”
“… I’ve never kissed anyone. I don’t really understand how it works. Is it meant to feel good?”
There is a pause, and Edward takes a deep breath.
“I could show you… if you like. It’s completely up to you,” he says. Oswald squawks in surprise. He glances around, furtively.
“… In private. B-but, Mr Nygma, th-this is simply an experiment, correct? This is platonic, correct?”
“Of course, Ozzie. And only if you’re okay with it.”
Oswald stands up, and glances down, nervous. “Edward. You’re my only friend. I… I don’t want it to be ruined…”
The Riddler gives a reassuring smile. “Of course it won’t, Ozzie! A simple kiss between two friends won’t ruin anything! I promise.”
The two walk into a private section, and stand facing each other, Oswald trembling.
“Ozzie, are you sure you want to do this? You’re shaking.”
“I have to try it. I have to know.”
“Okay. Please, pull away if you’re not enjoying it,” the Riddler says, leaning in slowly. He gently places his mouth on Oswald’s, and slowly kisses him, starting to blush a little. After about five seconds, Oswald pulls away, Edward respectfully taking a step back.
“Not a fan?” the Riddler asks, a reassuring smile on his face, cheeks tinged with blush.
“I don’t get it. I d-don’t get it at all. It’s just mashing mouths together, right? You didn’t hurt me or anything, but it feels fake. Are the feelings meant to kick in later?”
“Well, it feels… nice… there are chemicals released…” Riddler says. Penguin looks at him, incredulous.
“No? It just feels like there’s something moist rubbing my mouth?” There is a long pause. The Riddler shrugs.
“Well, I guess you just don’t like kissing, then. And that’s fine!” he says, a friendly smile on his face.
“It… is? Can I… not fall in love with someone? And it be… okay?”
“Of course, Ozzie! And if you look into aromantic, and decide that it’s for you, I’ll be there for you and always support you!”
There are tears in Oswald’s eyes. He hesitates, then hugs the Riddler. His movements are awkward, as the Penguin has never hugged anyone before, but Edward chuckles, hugging back.
“Thank you, friend,” Oswald says, pulling away, smiling. “Would you like to see my birds?”
Riddler giggles. “Of course!”
They walk to the aviary together, both smiling. Maybe Oswald is different to the norm, but that’s okay, and he’ll always have his friend with him.