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A shriek broke Jonathan out of his evening meditation. He blinked as his brain scrambled to restart its analytical processes. Strange. He’d only heard Edward produce a sound like that when exposed to the highest of stress. Something must have startled him very badly, something he found personally revolting. That ruled out quite a few possibilities, but there was no way of knowing for sure until he checked.
He stood up from their beaten sofa and stretched his arms out above his head. No harm in taking his time, after all. Once he felt sufficiently unstiffened, Jonathan strode to the kitchen doorway and glanced around. On one end of the compact room, Edward stood pressed against the wall staring at the other side of the room, lip curled back. On the other, a familiar crow stood on the counter, tilting its head back and forth. Jonathan had a clear idea as to how the situation had played out.
“Jonathan, what is that?!” Edward shrilled at him.
“A close friend of mine,” Jonathan said, stepping towards the counter. The crow’s attention fixated on him and he let out a short caw. In turn, Jonathan cooed lightly back.
“Why is it in our home?!” Edward demanded, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“I left the window open,” he replied, gesturing to the window above the sink, which was indeed still as open as he’d left it. “He’s smart enough to get in on his own.”
Edward was furiously raking his nails at his scalp, a habit that Jonathan kept reminding him would only make his hair thin faster. Not that his reminders alone had ever broken any of Edward’s bad habits.
“You didn’t think it would be worthwhile to warn me that you were allowing a rat into the house?”
“Craw is a corvid, not a rat,” Jonathan corrected with a shake of his head. “And here I thought you prided yourself on your knowledge.”
“The taxonomical details of your beast are irrelevant and you know it!”
“He’s not a beast,” Jonathan said, putting a hand over his heart as though the idea offended him. “He’s a very well-behaved bird. Aren’t you, Craw?”
With a rustle, Craw took off from the counter top and thrashed his wings until he came to perch on Jonathan’s shoulder. He gave a short warble before he took a loose strand of Jonathan’s hair into his beak and pulled gently.
“Yes, hello,” he mumbled to the bird, reaching up to rub his breast with one finger. Craw let out an appreciative trill.
Edward recoiled in horror, letting out a shudder. “How can you touch it? It’s disgusting!”
One corner of Jonathan’s mouth turned up in a sardonic smirk. “Don’t tell me he frightens you.”
“Of course not!” Edward bit back, a little too quickly. “It disgusts me, as I’ve plainly stated.”
Disgust was present, certainly, but a half-truth was clear. Someone with no fear wouldn’t have his back against the wall.
“Is that so?” he asked before stepping forward, closing a modest amount of distance between Edward and Craw.
As he’d suspected, Edward backed off, edging away from him and keeping a watchful eye on Craw.
“Of course! Do you think I don’t understand my own psyche?” Edward spat, lashing out just as any cornered animal would.
“I think that’s exactly the case,” Jonathan said, barely containing the half-smirk tugging at his lips. He hesitated for a moment before taking another step towards Edward, and couldn’t help but snicker as Edward predictably shuffled away again.
“Getting your kicks?” Edward said, fixing him with a glare.
“A little,” Jonathan admitted with a shrug and a smile. “I shouldn’t make fun. I was deathly afraid of crows for a very long time.”
“You? Afraid?” Edward scoffed. “I don’t believe it.”
“And yet it’s all too true,” Jonathan said, turning away from Edward to open up their fridge.
“Is there by any chance some convoluted story to go along with that fear?” Edward asked, sounding a bit more comfortable with Craw out of his immediate vicinity.
“With phobias, there inevitably is. Much of mine is muddled, I’m afraid.” Jonathan pulled out a packet of sliced ham as he spoke. “I remember being stuck in an old church. It was dark and crows infested the place. I don’t quite recall why, but they were disturbed and irritable. I remember being swarmed. Nearly losing my eyes.”
“A true life Hitchcock film, from the sounds.”
“That’s one way to describe it.”
“And yet here you are, pet rat on your shoulder.”
“More a friend than a pet,” Jonathan clarified as he opened the packet and placed it on the counter. Craw hopped off his shoulder to right away to gorge himself on the stuff.
“He’s welcome to come and go as he pleases; I’ll certainly keep the window open for him, and he’s always found his way back to me.” Jonathan turned back to Edward and fixed him with a fond smile. “Does that sound familiar to you, Edward?”
Edward’s face had taken on a nasty, scrunched scowl. “Are you comparing me to that winged ink stain?”
“Why, yes. You’re both pleasant company, though, I’m afraid I lean towards Craw.”
“And why is that?” Edward asked, brow furrowing.
“He’s smart enough to not talk,” Jonathan said, tone dripping sarcasm.
Edward’s expression tightened up into a glower that screamed envy. Jonathan could only describe it as cute. Quaint, even.
“I suppose I might as well leave you with your bird then,” he hissed. “Clearly I can’t compete.”
“Something you can’t do?” Jonathan said, echoing Edward’s earlier tone. “I don’t believe it.”
“Ha,” Edward spat at him before storming back out into the living room, leaving Jonathan and Craw alone.
Jonathan was suddenly struck with an uncommon ailment: regret. Edward’s was a hypocritical outburst at best, he knew. Edward made jabs at him often enough and he retaliated as such. That sort of exchange was par for the course in both their professional and romantic relationship. And yet Jonathan felt a tug of guilt and sympathy seeing Edward leave as he had, potentially hurt. He’d never enjoyed hurting Edward. Maybe he had been a bit too mean.
“His ego is easily bruised,” he told Craw. “I’d best appease him.”
Craw looked at him for a second before squawking what seemed to be acknowledgment and returning to his meal. Jonathan couldn’t help but smile. Craw might not have talked, but he always knew what to say.
Jonathan stepped into the doorway once more and found Edward sitting on their sofa, arms drawn up into himself and pouting. He looked utterly pathetic and were it anyone else, Jonathan would have been above empathy. Edward, however, was not anyone else.
It was a strange thing, having a sense that he’d done something wrong. Jonathan did very few things wrong, he knew, but treating Edward with cruelty was often one of those things. Even if he was pouting over something that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Edward felt bad and that made Jonathan feel bad. But Jonathan didn’t feel bad on behalf of other people. It was a waste of time and energy. If he felt bad for everyone he used in his work, nothing would ever get done. Yet Edward wasn’t so disposable. He never simply served a purpose and would be brushed off once the job was done. In fact, the purpose that he served precisely was still a topic of heavy inner debate. Even so, he wasn’t going to let Edward feel inferior to a bird.
“Edward,” he said, walking over to take a seat next to him.
“Had enough fun with your rat?” Edward asked, keeping his gaze pointedly forward.
“I suppose so,” Jonathan said, leaning back and crossing his legs. “He’s a lovely creature, but he’s very terse.”
“I thought that’s what you liked about him,” Edward said, passive-aggressive beyond what Jonathan would have normally tolerated. “Hearing his shrieks instead of my jabber.”
“Come now.” Jonathan leaned towards Edward with a slight smile. “We’d both be bored to tears without each other’s intellectual stimulation.”
“And physical,” Edward muttered.
“And physical stimulation,” Jonathan echoed. “Far less significant in my opinion.”
“Oh, please,” Edward said, rolling his eyes and turning towards him at last. “We all know you make no distinction between fact and your opinion.”
“I suppose you do then?”
Edward let out a laugh, genuinely smiling for the first time that evening. “Hardly, but I hold no pretense on that matter.”
“Then we should be glad our opinions often match.”
“Are you glad, Doctor Crane?” Edward asked, bringing his legs up onto the couch to rest over Jonathan’s. “Or is it disappointing that you can’t assert your superiority for once?”
“At times,” Jonathan conceded. “Other times it’s very nice having a-”
He trailed off, tapping the tips of his thumbs together as he pondered the precise word to describe Edward.
“A partner in crime? A powerhouse of intelligence?” Edward gave him a cockeyed grin. “A fiance?”
“An equal,” he finished at last. “Precious few of those.”
“Few? Who else could possibly equal either of us?”
“Bane comes to mind,” Jonathan suggested, tipping his head to the side.
“Ah, yes, you still have tea parties with him, don’t you?”
“We have tea Monday evenings, yes.”
“Abandoning me for a steroid-infused brute and now a bird.” Edward put a hand on his chest and breathed in sharply. “Jonathan, I am hurt.”
“You’re more than welcome to join us, you know.”
“No, no, certainly not,” Edward said, turning his chin up at the idea. “I have more productive things to do than sit around in a sewer, drink tea, and talk about philosophy.”
“I find it therapeutic myself.” Jonathan let a pause stretch for just a second too long before adding, “His viewpoints can be as refreshing as the tea.”
Edward put a hand over his throat and gave an overdone gag. Jonathan shook his head and rolled his eyes in turn. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, but a laugh passed across them, just a snicker as they released tension. The kind of exchange that reminded Jonathan that, yes, they were as close as any married couple. A moment of synchronization before Jonathan remembered what he’d meant to express.
“I didn’t intend to hurt you,” he said, breaking the mood.
“Please, don’t insult me,” Edward said, tipping his head back. “You don’t honestly think I was hurt by your comments, do you?”
“Not entirely,” Jonathan said, whether it was a completely true statement or not. “Nonetheless I believe it’s worth making it known that I take no pleasure in seeing your pain.”
Edward stared blankly at him for a moment before he slowly brought his hands together in a clap, once, twice, and a third time.
“Bravo, Crane, your sociopathy extends only to most and not all of humanity. You should be very proud.”
“I’m not proud,” Jonathan said, practically choking on the word. “You can be quite the hindrance.”
“Yet you’ve made no effort to kill me nor cut me off.”
“Of course not,” Jonathan said, face scrunching at the thought. “I don’t believe I could bring myself to do either.”
“And why is that?” Edward asked, drawing out each word.
Jonathan swallowed and took in a deep breath. It was a question he’d fought with himself on for a long time. Best to give the most sensible answer he’d come across so far.
“Happiness is something I never believed I could capture, nor did I care to try,” he started, picking each word with care. “It is a vague idea after all, a mixture of reactions, hormones, and chemicals that varies from person to person. I believe, Edward, that you’ve brought me the closest to my happiness mixture than anyone or anything else. One taste of the feeling you’ve given me and I couldn’t stop. Call it a pleasant addiction of sorts.”
“Ah, so you only keep me around for my hormonal effect on you, is that it?”
Jonathan rolled his eyes, but he knew any correction would be pointless. “If you prefer the most primitive explanation, then yes, that is it,” he said.
“Well, in that case, I keep you around for the chemical reactions too.”
“Then, once more, we’re on the same page.”
“Aren’t we always, dearest Jonathan?” Edward asked, scooting forward so he was practically sitting on Jonathan’s lap.
“Often enough to keep us from killing each other,” Jonathan said, annoyance creeping into his voice as Edward’s weight became a strain.
“And others from killing us,” Edward added with a chuckle. “I’d call that a successful partnership.”
“Reasonable enough.”
“Point proven,” Edward said, employing his most insufferable, self-righteous tone. Jonathan had half the mind to shove him off of the couch.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to. Jonathan heard feathers rustling one moment and the next Edward flinched and let out a yelp. His balance compromised, Edward flailed to find purchase, but only succeeded in tipping himself off of the couch in a most unrefined fashion. He landed on his back at Jonathan’s feet, stunning himself for a few seconds.
“Gotham’s resident mastermind,” Jonathan said, leaning to rest his chin in his palm and grin at Edward.
“You’re so supportive, my dear” Edward gritted out.
Craw hopped down from the top of the couch to stand where Edward had been sitting. He let out a warble and only then did Edward make an effort to scuttle an inch or two away.
“What is your aversion to him really?” Jonathan asked, looking from Craw to Edward.
“Is it so odd to you that I might find a large, pitch black, flying creature with rattish features to be disconcerting?”
“Hm.” Jonathan hadn’t quite thought about it that way. “I suppose not. I have similar feelings towards rats.”
“Ugh, bottom feeders all around,” Edward said, finally sitting up and shooting Craw a nasty sneer. “But what else did I expect, really?”
As soon as he spoke, Craw hopped down from the couch and onto Edward’s chest. Edward dropped back down and stiffened like a board, pulling his head back as far as it would go. Jonathan didn’t bother to stifle the grin that curled across his face.
“Jonathan,” Edward hissed through his teeth. “Do something.”
“You’ll have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”
Craw gave Edward a short look before leaning down and picking at one of the buttons on his jacket. Edward’s hand twitched like he wanted to drag himself away or strike Craw or make some effort to resist, but he never managed to take any such action. It wasn’t long before Craw had torn the button from where it had been stitched on and was brandishing it with his head high.
“Get it off me,” Edward said, eyes darting from Craw to Jonathan. “Please.”
“Well, don’t talk to me. I’m not the one standing on your chest.”
“You expect me to...?” Edward trailed off, wrinkling his nose at Craw.
“Politely, yes,” Jonathan said with a nod. “He knows his name.”
With a bitter glare, Edward hesitated to speak. The veins in his neck twitched in time with his eyelids and Jonathan observed with a dark fascination. He might have made an effort to avoid putting Edward into stressful situations, but when he found himself in one organically, well, Jonathan was hardly above enjoying himself.
“Craw,” Edward finally said, his tone sickly sweet. “Kindly get off of me, you vile corpse-eater.”
Jonathan didn’t know if Craw had understood, but after another moment of glancing at Edward, he hopped away and fluttered up to sit backwards on Jonathan’s shoulder.
“To think you called him a beast,” Jonathan said, shaking his head and stroking Craw’s back and wings.
“I stand by that statement.” Edward sat up properly this time, reaching down to put a finger over where Craw had taken the button. “I’ll need a new coat.”
“No, you need to learn the art of sewing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I have far better uses for my time than stitching when I could have someone else do it for me.”
“And I have better uses for my time than mending your clothes.”
“And who’s forcing you to mend them?” Edward asked as he picked himself up.
Jonathan didn’t bother to answer as Craw dropped the button and took off back towards the kitchen. He reached down to retrieve it, holding it between his index and middle finger. Sometimes he wondered if Craw had magpie blood in him.
Edward settled back down next to Jonathan, putting an arm around his frame and leaning against him.
“Aren’t I lucky to have someone willing to put my things back together?”
“Your things. Yes.” Jonathan leaned back and wrapped his arm around Edward in turn. “We’re both very fortunate.”
“Considering the state of the city, we’re as fortunate as they come.” Edward went quiet as his smile faded and he took on a rare thoughtful expression. “I- Jonathan, I really do hope-”
Jonathan reached up to touch Edward’s chin and brought their cheeks together, silencing him.
“You don’t need to explain to me, darling, save your ego.”
“Flaunting you perceptive capabilities, I see,” Edward said, turning about to press a kiss to Jonathan’s lips and look him in the eyes.
“Of course,” Jonathan said, maintaining the contact between their faces. “Who else would notice?”
Edward gave a short, throaty laugh as an uncharacteristically soft smile came over his face. Even his brow lifted for a gentler gaze to complete the effect.
“Flatterer,” he purred, shaking his head.
“It’s only the truth,” Jonathan told him, tipping forward to kiss him once again. How could he not when Edward looked so pleasant?
The kiss lasted a few moments before Edward broke the contact, only to rest his head against the junction between Jonathan’s neck and shoulder.
Jonathan had expected him to say more, but the silence wasn’t unwelcome. A calm had begun to exude from Edward. It still surprised Jonathan to see Edward in any state outside of manic or grandstanding, and the effect it had surprised him even more. Jonathan found himself sinking into a state of serenity the longer Edward stayed where he was. His shoulders dropped, his back relaxed, and he let his head rest against Edward’s in turn. They could have very easily slept that way and from the steady rhythm of Edward’s breathing, he was prepared to. REM sleep wouldn’t have been wise, but just a nap wouldn’t hurt.
Just as he allowed his eyes to close, Jonathan felt the distinct motion of Edward smiling against his neck. More of those wonderful feel-good hormones stirred in his stomach. If the bird decided to disturb them now, well, he wasn’t above shutting the window for a while.