Edward almost said something else, but then he just shook his head and flashed a smile, focusing back on cooking just in time to drain the pasta. He hadn't talked about this with anyone, not ever. Not even in Arkham, where the therapists were so eager to get everyone talking about their parents. "Thank you, Oswald. You have changed me in ways I couldn't have anticipated. I suppose that's why I want you to know where I've come from. Where I got my scars, metaphorically and physically. I want you to know me. No secrets. It's strange."
"I know the feeling. I don't like when we have secrets. I love you, Edward. Every part of you. We've seen each other at our worst. You've seen me lose my temper, you've seen me defeated, hurt, even tarred and feathers. If you can still love me after all of that, I can still love you no matter what too." Oswald smiled as he pulled himself playfully up onto the counter top, which took more effort than he was proud of, looking at the other and playfully prodding him with his foot. "I like knowing everything about. So please always tell me."
He slid along the counter top so he was closer, looking at the other fondly. "It's times like this, I miss my mother the most. I wish you could have had a chance to be loved by her as well. A good parental figure."
Edward smiled politely and finished mixing the pasta in with the sauce, then moved back over to Oswald to stand between his knees and lean forward, kissing him leisurely. Better than imagining how strange it would have been to meet Oswald's mother, after everything he had learned about her from the man over their time together. "Alas. Nothing to be done about it. I'll just make sure you never meet my father to make up for it."
He kissed Edward back and playfully ran his fingers through the other's hair, messing it up a little so it was nice and ruffled. Edward tamed his hair ever so neatly and it always baffled Oswald. It looked so much nicer when he had ruffled bedhead, it was an adorable look. "I'm sure you're saving me from an awful meeting but if I did meet him, it'd be hard not to hurt him." No one hurt Edward and lived to tell the tale. "My dashing, handsome Edward. I do love you so."
"I feel like seeking him out to kill him would validate him more than I mean to." It was difficult. Edward loved killing, of course, just like Oswald did, but it was something else to kill... Kill his childhood monster, he supposed. Edward kissed Oswald once more and then simply rested his head against his shoulder. "I love you too. Dinner is served." But he didn't yet make a move away from him. He didn't feel like it.
Oswald just held Edward close and continued to stroke his hair, not in any hurry to eat. He was very happy to do this all night if Edward needed him too. They weren't big cuddlers a lot of the time but some nights, contact was needed. So was comfort. He pulled back a little and looked down at Edward. "Would you like me to serve? You should go sit down. You've done the cooking, I can do the rest."
"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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He slid along the counter top so he was closer, looking at the other fondly. "It's times like this, I miss my mother the most. I wish you could have had a chance to be loved by her as well. A good parental figure."
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