Work Text:
There was a lot that could be said about how domestic the relationship between Zsasz and Roman had become over the last decade, but there were moments where Roman found himself in disbelief over how far that carried. Zsasz was a serial killer who cut the faces off his victims under his direction. He chose to live his life with the mission to free as many as he could from this world. He was the kind of individual that Arkham was created for, but at the same time he was also the man who threw a borderline tantrum whenever he didn't receive Roman's attention. He was also the kind of man who took care of Roman when he found himself stressed or unstable. He was the man that Roman fell in love with, and as hard as that was for people to understand, it was true. He loved Zsasz, and while neither of them was what most would consider normal or sane or even decent, their relationship worked for them, and it had even become kind of domestic. There were these moments that, from an outside perspective, made them seem almost normal, and in a sense, the two of them were, or at least the moments were. It was love. Roman loved Zsasz, and Zsasz loved him in return. He loved him a lot. Roman could handle domestic for Zsasz.
It was late when Roman found himself in bed with Zsasz with his nose buried in some sort of book. There would often be times where he would read these stories out loud to Zsasz, and more often than not, Zsasz would fall asleep before he made it into the third chapter when he would do this. It was sweet, but he doubted that Zsasz would make it past the first this time around. He could tell how tired the man was due to how still he was in bed next to him. Roman had started to scratch his back in an affectionate kind of manner when he started the book, and here he was almost done with it almost an hour later. Roman decided to take a small break before he started on the final chapter, and this left him focused on Zsasz and Zsasz alone. Zsasz looked so relaxed, and then Roman retracted his hand, and for a moment Zsasz didn't move. He continued to rest there for several seconds, and then he started to act like the lack of back scratches would be the death of him. It was domestic.
“Seriously? Roman asked as he watched the other man squirm in bed next to him, unable to miss how the other man refused to turn over to look at him. “Zsasz.”
“Why did you stop?” Victor muttered as he lifted his head off the bed to confront the issue, not missing the look of disbelief he received in return. “Keep going.”
“It's been an hour.” Roman noted as he turned his attention back to the book, taking notice of how the man inched closer to him to make the task even easier for him. “Victor.”
Roman knew that he shouldn't reward Zsasz's behavior, but as he started on the final chapter of his book, the back scratches continued, and Zsasz started to relax once more. He loved the man, and while he would never understand how the two of them reached this point, he wasn't disappointed over the fact that it had. He loved the man.
