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The noise of the hall was at a pleasant hum, a buzz of civil conversation between the criminal underworld and the politics of Gotham.
Ed Nygma stood with a small smirk twitching on his lips, hidden at the edge of the lavishly decorated hall. The new Mayor was throwing a New Year's Eve party to celebrate his coming reign, and it was going perfectly according to plan. Dressed in a dark green suit, Ed began his patrol around the edge of the hall, checking off his mental list of which political leaders needed to speak to which gangsters in order for manipulation to occur. The more they drank and loosened their tongues the easier Oswald would be able to have them wrapped around his finger.
Speaking of, Ed hadn't checked in with his... friend for a while. A small frown creased Ed's brow as he thought of recent events, Oswald's proclamation of love. He still wasn't quite sure how to take it. It had come as such a shock, and his reaction hadn't been the best. They'd agreed to just go back to being friends, but Ed wasn't sure he could. He didn't understand what he felt, but he wasn't about to discuss it with Oswald for fear of upsetting him, or giving him false hope. Until he understood himself, he would remain silent.
Scanning the crowds of people, Ed quickly spotted Oswald's short and distinctive figure talking with some petty officers. Inviting the lower ranks was another tactic, keeping them involved and happy would help when favours were asked. Ed began his approach, and as he drew closer, the fake smile he had plastered on faltered, his gaze narrowing.
Oswald's hand had a slight tremor running though it, his cane trembling with his weight. His shoulders were tense, his jaw locked and his eyes glassy as he pretended to laugh at someone in conversation. Something was wrong.
Ed was there in an instant, one hand gripping under Oswald's arm with a pleasant grin.
"Gentlemen, ladies, mind if I steal your mayor away for a moment?" He asked cheerily. He didn't really wait for their approval, gently tugging Oswald away and towards the edge of the hall.
Oswald remained silent, the facade dropping from his expression. His limp became more pronounced, and he leaned heavily into Ed. His chest heaved slightly; he was trying to control his accelerated breathing.
"What-" Ed began, but Oswald shook his head, cutting him off.
"I can't do this anymore." The Penguin rasped with another shake of his head.
Ed frowned, switching his grip to wind an arm around Oswald's waist, gripping his hand over the one that had a death grip on the cane. "Let go, I'll support you.” He says, and then the rambling starts before he can stop it. “ What do you mean? Everything's going fine; you're going to make a fantastic mayor it's all going to fit into the bigger plan." He paused for the smallest second, "Or do you mean something else? You can't do this?" He refused to acknowledge the hint of panic that had seeped into his voice as he gestured vaguely to how he was holding his friend.
Oswald shook his head, a fleeting grimace taking over his features. His head pounded at the quick movement. "No, no. This party. I can't-"
Ed nodded vigorously, relief surging through him. "You're overwhelmed, and in pain. We'll leave."
Ed began to move them away, only to immediately slow his pace. Usually, Oswald could keep up extraordinarily well, but now he was barely putting any pressure onto his bad leg, and each time he did he winced, jaw going tight as he bit back any noise of pain. His chest felt like it was going to crush his lungs, the frustration of both being in pain and not being able to show he was in pain reaching the brink of his control.
"Do you want me to bring the car round?" Ed asked.
Oswald sucked in a sharp breath, pressing himself as close as he could get to Ed. "No," he answered quickly, trying to hide the shake of his voice. "No, I can make it."
Making a small noise of concern, Ed gently pried Oswald's cane from his hand, shifting him round so he could grip around Ed's torso. The position looked overly friendly, and Oswald glanced around to see who was watching, but that only made his head throb more. Would someone see them? Would Ed mind if they thought something was going on between them? Would there be backlash if they did? He tried to focus on his breathing, keep himself from spiraling into his insecurities and his pain. Slowly, they made their way towards the entrance lobby, Oswald pressed tightly against Ed.
"Boss?" Butch appeared from the depths of the crowds before they could reach the door, and Ed resisted the urge to growl at him.
Oswald didn't even look up from where he was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. "Not now Butch! Keep everyone entertained. Don't..." He flinched as Ed moved, his knuckles turning white with how tightly he was gripping around his waist. "Don't mess this up."
Butch opened his mouth to reply but Ed had already begun guiding Oswald towards and out the door. He didn't have time to listen to the oaf's protests and concerns; the party was moving along beautifully, they wouldn't be missed.
The car was already waiting, though not running. The driver scrambled to stub out his cigarette when he saw them coming, quickly yanking their door open before running to get the engine going and the heating on.
Ed pauses at the door, unsure of how he can get Oswald into the car with minimal pain. In his hesitation, Oswald takes things into his own hands. He's used to hurting, and now he has no-one to fake to he just throws himself in, hissing with the stabbing pain that shoots up his leg. He makes a small whimper as he settles against the cool leather of the car, and shivers as Ed gets in beside him, the door sending in a cold gust.
"It's cold." Oswald grumbles, crossing his arms across his chest as he tries not to think about the pang in his leg or the throbbing in his temples.
Ed nods, and snaps at the driver. “Did you know the emperor penguin can survive in minus twenty degrees Celsius?” The tall man asks, but Oswald isn't really listening. The headache he’s had all day continues to make his skull feel like it’s about to implode, but he’s distracted as he begins to feel a warm trickle of air begin coming from the vents. It's not much; he'll only start getting warm by the time he has to get back out of the car. He should invest in better heating.
There's suddenly soft warmth against his side, and Oswald turns to face a closer Ed than he had anticipated. He jumps, and tries to hide it. "I'm- you're- we..."
Ed ignores his stutters, leaning even closer, his gaze flicking across Oswald’s expression. "How long have you had a headache?"
Oswald takes a second to close his eyes, looking away and out towards the bright neon lights of Gotham. It makes his head pound but he can't look at Ed being so close right now. "Few hours." He lies, one hand absentmindedly moving to rub at his swollen knee.
Ed makes a vague noise of disbelief, but he doesn't pry. Neither does he move away.
They spend the rest of the ride to the manor in silence pressed together, and Oswald can feel his chest slowly becoming less tight, and he can breathe normally again. He's still in pain, of course, but he's not panicking about losing his composure in front of people who have to think he is unwaveringly strong.
Ed's never been in that category. The first time they really met was when Oswald had a bullet in his shoulder and his mind was broken by the loss of his mother, so showing weakness to Ed didn't count. He'd seen it before.
The hobble up the stairs to the manor took far longer than Oswald would have liked, and by the time Ed has helped him into the foyer he's panting, shivering, and trying not to throw up from the agony his leg is in.
"Easy, easy. Can you make it to the couch?" Ed asks him in a soft voice, quite different from the hard Ed that was his Chief of Staff, and the concern that's layered in his tone makes Oswald want to cry.
The Penguin just nods once, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stop it from quivering. His chest has gone tight again, but this time he has no idea why.
He just about makes it to the couch, and he doesn't dare look at Ed as he sinks into it, throwing one hand over his eyes.
Ed keeps one hand on Oswald's shoulder as he debates what to do. The need to stay beside Oswald is almost overwhelming. The thought of leaving him in any kind of pain made him incredibly uneasy. He’d never had this issue before. When Oswald was sick and feverish in his apartment, Ed had mostly gone about his usual day. He’d never felt quite so… protective. But calling for Olga to fetch drugs and blankets would take longer than necessary, and so Ed reluctantly disappears to get them himself.
Oswald notices the hand missing from his shoulder, but his head feels like it's about to explode, and so he doesn't look to see where Ed has gone.
It doesn't take long for him to return anyway. There's the sound of the flick of the light switch and a gentle hand on his thigh that draws Oswald out to open his eyes. Ed has drawn the curtains to block any light from outside and the room is bathed in darkness, the only glow coming from the soft flicker of a candle on the side table.
Ed looks beautiful in the low orange light, and Oswald’s heart aches.
"I've got drugs for your head and knee, a hot water bottle, tea, and my duvet for you." Ed says quietly, his thumb stroking across the soft material of Oswald's trousers. He doesn't mention why he's brought his own duvet and not Oswald's, nor does he explain why his hand is quite so far up his thigh.
Oswald hums deciding against questioning him and holding a hand out. "Give me all of the drugs."
Allowing a small smile to cross his face at Oswald’s instant demand, and ignoring the warmth it spreads through him, Ed reaches for the drugs. Placing three pills into Oswald's hand, he carefully holds up the cup of tea.
Oswald goes to take it, but Ed swiftly swerves it out of his reach.
"...Ed I'm quite capable of drinking from a mug." Oswald says slowly.
Ed gives him a little smirk, shrugging once. "I'm aware, but I don't want you to spill any so, I'm helping."
Oswald raises an eyebrow.
"You had a tremor in your hand earlier. I'm sure you’ll want to avoid spilling anything on your suit, so I'll help." Ed elaborates slightly when he doesn't accept the tea, heat rising under his collar.
Oswald doesn't give. "A man as clever as you will be well aware that tremor was due to stress and anxiety. Now that I'm neither I can drink tea quite comfortably."
But Ed doesn't relinquish the tea. Ignoring how overly warm his body is getting, Ed drums his fingers against the mug as he holds it in both hands, kneeling in front of Oswald between his legs. It's the first time Oswald has paid attention to this position, and he has to make a conscious effort not to stare.
"I know, I..." Ed pauses, and looks down at the tea, watching the steam rise from it. The desire he has to help has nothing to do with wanting to hold the mug. Helping didn’t involve being this close to his friend either. Contrary to popular belief Ed did understand personal space; he just wanted to be in Oswald’s. That wasn’t very… friend like, he supposed. "I just, I want to take care of you."
It was the last thing Oswald had expected to come out of Ed's mouth, and so he just stares at him for a moment in disbelief. "Wha- why?"
Ed frowns, glancing up to lock his gaze with Oswald's. The piercing blue takes his breath away, perhaps even more so when it's tainted with pain. It sparks something else in him too, something he’s unsure of trusting after Kristen.
But he’s not sure he can stop it. "What kind of question is that?” He says, trying to sound dismissive. “Because I care about you, it's what a...friend would do."
Clenching his jaw, Oswald looks away, one hand rubbing at his aching knee. A friend. Perhaps a friend would, Oswald wouldn’t really know, he hasn’t had many, but in his mind that was more than just a friend. That was too caring, too personal, too much like love. It would be a dangerous line for Oswald to cross if they weren’t on the same page. "I don't... I don't think a friend would do that. I can't, um." He pauses, and laughs an empty laugh. "I can't let you take care of me like that as a friend, Ed. There is only so much I can tolerate."
Ed still doesn't give up the cup. In fact, his grip has tightened. "Okay. Well, I'm um." He nods once, shifting a little closer. "Say, say I'm not doing it as a friend. Then would you let me?"
Oswald ignores the fact his mouth has gone dry, and focuses on maintaining his casual breathing. "Well... yes."
Giving himself a satisfied smile, Ed nods once. "Okay." He lifts up, moving with the mug as he brings it closer to Oswald's lips, careful not to spill it. "Take the drugs."
Oswald obeys, throwing the handful of pills into his mouth.
Ed takes charge instantly, one hand shifting off the mug to rest against the side of Oswald's neck as the other guides the tea to his lips. He helps him drink, and once he's satisfied he brings the tea away. His hand on the Penguin's throat does not move.
That does not go unnoticed.
Oswald swallows hard, trying not to shiver at the heat that’s resting against his neck. He’s not looking at Ed, refusing to make eye contact. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening, and trusting his own reading of the situation did not go down well the last time, so he’s loathe to trust it again.
Edward however, is staring intently at the man before him. He can feel his throat constrict as he swallows, and without really thinking about it, his thumb traces up the curve of warm skin.
“Look at me.” Ed whispers, his thumb tracing higher, ghosting across Oswald’s jaw.
It takes a few seconds, but Oswald does as he’s asked.
When he meets Ed’s gaze, he unconsciously wets his lips, watching Ed do the same. Ed’s hand shifts from where it’s resting against his neck, and his long fingers trace up his jaw, tilting his chin up.
Then everything he’s ever wanted brushes against his lips.
Their first kiss is slow, and sweet. There’s no hurry to it, and Ed is gentle when he moves, both hands moving to slide into Oswald’s dark hair, guiding him closer. Unsure if it’s the right thing to do or not, Oswald places his hands uncertainly on either side of Ed’s waist. From the soft hum he receives he assumes it is, and he pulls Ed flush against his body.
When they finally have to pull away, Ed can’t stop himself from stealing another chaste kiss at the sight of the happy little grin on Oswald’s face.
“I assume this means… we’re on the same page?” Oswald asks, ignoring just how pathetic the hopeful tone is.
Ed simply smiles, his hands resting on Oswald’s thighs. “I think so. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“No.” Oswald answers, as quickly as is humanly possible.
Humming, Ed nods once, and moves from the floor where he was between Oswald’s legs. He picks up the duvet, and motions for the Penguin to lie down. Oswald begins to object, when Ed manoeuvres himself onto the couch too. Unsurprisingly, his objections die in his throat. They settle into a comfortable position, Ed taking up most of the space and Oswald curled up into his side, his head resting snugly in the crook of his shoulder.
“Did you plan this?” Oswald asks, voice slightly muffled from where he was bundled up in the duvet and pressed so tightly against Ed.
Ed shakes his head as he scoops up the hot water bottle. “Not exactly. Though, I had decided when I went to get the duvet, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“It was.” Oswald mumbles. He briefly registers that neither his headache nor the ache in his leg have been as apparent for the last however many minutes. Now the pain has greatly dulled as the pills kick in.
Shifting, Ed slides the water bottle beneath the covers, wedging it between his body and under Oswald’s bad knee. “That help?”
Oswald merely hums his approval, tiredness and the stress of the day quickly catching up with him now he was less distracted and far more content than he has been in… forever.
Ed smiles to himself as Oswald’s responses to him become more sluggish and vague until they become non-existent. Tucking a few stray hairs behind Oswald’s ear, Ed kisses his forehead as he settles down for a quick nap. He could call Olga when he woke to fetch his notepad. He’d catch up with work from the couch while Oswald slept. There would be a lot to sort out come the morning. But, that would wait. For now, he was just going to enjoy the first night of this new chapter.