"No, that's fine. We can do it together, if you'd like." Edward flashed him a smile and knew he could see through it, but he didn't really mind it. Instead he kissed Oswald's cheek and then moved away from him so he could get the plates out. This had been a lot heavier than he had meant for the night to go, it was a shame they didn't have anybody to kill.
Oswald helped him set everything up and they sat at the table closer than usual. Not either end of the table as Oswald often did it, no, he came to the side of Eddie so they could eat nice and close. And he could force him to play footsie with him under the table like the immature idiot he was. "You've really out-done yourself on this, Ed. As always. Who needs an Italian restaurant when I have you."
"Well. You also have seven Italian restaurants, but we've never gotten shot at over eating my food." Which did make it more enjoyable in his personal perception. He had to smile at Oswald's attempt of comforting him with his presence and maybe that was why he decided to be immature as well, starting to feed Oswald a few bites. "Cooking is very calming. A bit like killing, in a sense, but less of a rush."
"That's where you're going wrong. Never rush a kill unless you have to. My last kill dragged out a full hour, it felt wonderful." No one called him ugly words like 'fag' and lived to speak of it. They just had a great amount of suffering to endure before they bit the dust, just so they knew where they'd fucked up. "I'm glad you like cooking. I never really got into it myself but I liked the things my mother taught me to make when I was young. It was always fun."
"I've studied up on your cuisine, not that I can hope to be as good as your mother, of course. But there is something to be said for it, it's a shame it's not more popular around here. I'll cook it more, with winter coming up." Something hearty was nice to have in the colder seasons. He leaned forward, feeding Oswald another bite. "Tell me about your last kill, Oswald. Tell me very detail."
"You do so well at wooing me, darling." With an amused laugh, he finished off the bite and licked his lips, leaning back in his seat and giving Edward the full tale of his last kill. The idiot who dared to call him a faggot, the way he trapped him, cornered him, got Zsasz in to assist as they slowly took the man apart piece by piece. It was painful, graphic and brutal. It was pretty much sexy talk for them. "He begged me for mercy at the start and by the end, he was begging me to kill him. Funny, isn't it?"
"Hilarious!" There wasn't a hint of sarcasm, instead Edward just about giggled in excitement, his hands on Oswald's chest as he leaned forward, looking right into his eyes. "All those years, my love, and still you have so much to teach me." No wonder he couldn't get enough of him. What a way to make him think about better things. "What shall we do with this evening then?"
"I have a few ideas." Oswald set his knife and fork down neatly before he slid his hand out onto Edward's thigh, trailing it upwards playfully. "You're mine tonight, dear Edward. I'm thinking bed. Maybe some rope and I'll fuck you until you're crying my name." That ought to take his mind of anything else bad that had happened to him. "We're going to make love." Not fuck, screw or bang. He wasn't giving in that easily.
"I adore you, my little bird, do you know that?" It needed saying, obviously. Making love while fucking him, who'd have ever thought he'd get so lucky? Edward smiled and closed the distance between them, kissing Oswald deeply for a few seconds before he pulled away again. "So, bedroom?" He was already on his feet, smirking. "After you."
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