riddleman | yet you cannot live without me

"Yeah? Come after me. That I'd like to see." No protesting the fact that he was a patronising dick, he knew what he was about. Edward kissed him, then put his hand on his chest, letting it travel down to his thigh, which made it easy to nudge Oswald's legs apart. He moved forward, dropping on one knee so he could easier press himself against his boyfriend. "How would you do that?"

"For starters, if you let other girls touch you, you wouldn't be allowed to touch me. Not unless I said so. You'd have to do everything on my terms to make it back up to me." There was nothing like when Edward got down like that, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes. He ran his hand along the side of his face gently and tilted his head up, meeting his gaze. "You're mine, Edward Nygma. You belong to me as much as I belong to you. Don't ever forget that or I'll make you regret it."

"Everything on your terms, yeah? What's that like?" Of course he was teasing him now, but it was in good humour and he looked up at Oswald with a smile. "How about if you kill my staff again without asking me first, you can see about being my servant until I stop being upset about it. You meddled with my affairs by killing her. Very inconvenient."

"You're still a dick." He playfully slapped Edward's cheek before sitting back in his chair, spreading his legs out as he tilted his head to the side, slowly debating how he felt about Edward's offer. "How about you stop hiring beautiful staff members to make me jealous and stop letting then fawn all over you. I know you do it, it's good for your ego. And you love your ego more than anything." Not that Oswald minded, it turned him on. "I'd be a terrible servant anyway."

"You love my ego too. It's part of the attraction. How about you stop being paranoid and start trusting me?" Edward looked up at him, only to roll his eyes. "I don't solely hire them to fawn all over me. I also don't believe they do that in such excess, you just see what you want to see to justify getting rid of them." Dirty, dirty business. "I don't know. You've served me quite well in the past."

"Fine. I guess I can trust you. If you promise, here and now, to never give into temptation and betray me. Promise?" Oswald looked down at Edward, entirely serious, making sure he was looking into Edward's eyes so he could make sure that there was no hint of deception or dishonesty. Of course, Oswald was a bad judge in general so even if there was, he'd never know but this would satisfy him at least. That was something. "I serve you when and if I want to. It's not my way of life, I'm afraid."

"You're meant to rule, my little bird, and that's just what I like to see you do." Edward didn't hesitate to catch Oswald's eyes and he wondered if he had any clue how much there was inside Edward. He didn't lie, he never had made a habit of that - perhaps he had never been able to - but he knew that there were parts of him that he couldn't necessarily control. "I'm not tempted, Oswald. And I'd not betray you."

"You never would? Then I believe you. And that means I no longer have to take those girls away from you, I suppose." He couldn't help but smirk playfully because when all was said and done, he wasn't the best of men and it was very entertaining to him sometimes. They never needed pretence. "Shame, I was having a lot of fun killing them. I'm up to seven in total." Wait, did he tell him about the full six? ... Eh. Too late now. "I was hoping to hit ten."

Edward blinked, leaning back and thus away from pressing against Oswald, which was just as well. He slowly took his glasses off and folded them so he could reach behind himself and set them down on top of the desk, ensuring he wouldn't lose them.

Then he simply turned to look at Oswald once more, running a hand through his usually so neat hair to ruffle it and wait for what else his boyfriend would say to incriminate himself.

"Don't tell me you're upset." Oswald had a warped idea of what was funny and so far, that hadn't changed. Seven girls, all of which he felt got too close to Edward, had been punished so far. From the waitress who smiled at him once to the last two assistance he had that mysteriously 'left town'. Whoops.

"Oh come on, you appreciate a good murder as much as I do! You've killed people I like as well. Well, not so much like, but you have. And we've never been caught!"

"I'm not upset about you killing, Oswald. I'm not a big fan of you using your idea of what protecting me means as a way to vent your petty jealousy." What a manchild, as he always told him. Edward was back to glaring and to thinking about what to do, so he got up, looking over his shoulder behind him. His vision wasn't that bad, he could see the letter opener. Good enough, that ought to work.

"You're upset regardless. I have no idea why. Look, Edward, there are people in your life that you didn't even miss when I got rid of them, you never even saw the total. You didn't miss them then, why care now?" It almost seemed pointless to care when they both knew Edward didn't. As far as he was concerned, he did nothing wrong. But there was Edward, glaring at him, it didn't feel great. With a reluctant sigh, he rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. "What can I do to make you smile, my dear Edward?"

"I don't know," Edward said simply, then he suddenly reached behind himself and a moment later Oswald had a knife against his throat and was pinned in his chair with Edward's knee against his chest while he gripped his hair with his free hand, tight enough to force his head back, making that throat so much easier to threaten. "Maybe seeing you bleed would do the trick."

"Oh, I see, this is how it is." He had no idea if Edward was seriously going to hurt him or if this was a game but either way, he was already so ridiculously turned on. So savage, so flippant. It did things for him. His kneejerk panic came out as a giddy laugh, wriggling back in his chair. "I only bleed for you." He licked his lips and smirked playfully. "Go on then - do it."

"That's just a lie, Oswald. You're such a pain slut." What? It was true. Oswald came home bleeding every other day it seemed like. Beaten up or stabbed or shot or who knew what way he'd find to get himself into trouble next. Now, there would be a reason to be jealous.

Edward moved the letter opener so he could use it to rip and slice through Oswald's shirt, until it simply hung in shreds off him. So debauched, such an inviting sight. "You want to bleed for me, don't you?"

"I have a face people just want to hit. I kind of think at some point, it's not me, it's the world." Which was very true. Sometimes he was into it, he provoked it, he wanted it. Sometimes everyone just wanted to hurt him and that kind of sucked. Last time Jim Gordon attacked him? Kind of hot. That time Maroni tried to torture him? Sucked. Big time.

He looked down at the shirt Edward had just sliced and pulled a face, looking back up at him in horror. "This was an expensive shirt!" Kinky or not, that stood to reason. He had to protest. "You could ask a little nicer."

"You enjoy it, Oswald. That's on you." Edward used the tip of the letter opener to caress Oswald's throat, tilting his head as he stood up so he could move to straddle him on the chair, his hand still in his hair, making sure to hold his head in place none too gentle. "All of your shirts are expensive, so you bring that on yourself. Further, I don't plan on asking nicer. I plan on taking what I want without asking. What are you going to do about it?"

"I have money and good taste, you can't punish me for that." He certainly knew how to dress himself, always aiming for the best. Edward was fortunately much better these days. Not that he'd ever been bad, he had a wonderful sense of style but not enough money. He did now. He smirked as he leaned back, tilting his head and letting his neck be exposed to the gentle cut from the letter opener. "What am I going to do about it? Good question. There's a lot I could do, the question is more - what do I want to do?" The answer? He licked his lips and met Edward's eyes as he shifted in his seat, rubbing against him ever so slight. Seduction seemed like a good answer. He wanted to do that.

"Someone who doesn't like to bleed doesn't have a letter opener this sharp." At least not while also having such a tendency to make people want to hurt him as Oswald did. Although for now all that happened was Edward leaning down to catch his mouth in a kiss while the letter opener stayed against his throat, just to ensure he wouldn't forget who was in charge here.

"People try to kill me. A lot. I think it's handy to make everything in the room as deadly as possible so I stand a chance." They usually came with weapons, ready to get him and Oswald had to think on his feet. And that was what led to sharper items and heavier ornaments. He gave into the kiss so easily, as he always did, keeping himself a safe enough distances from the letter opener against his throat. Edward played the best games with him.

"That is true, there are a lot of dangerous things in this room, aren't there?" Edward looked around, the letter opener teasing down over Oswald's collarbone to his sternum, the pressure enough to leave red streaks but not actually split skin. He had an idea or hundred and he looked over his shoulder at the desk.

Then he suddenly jerked Oswald out of the chair, so he yank him up to his feet and then bodily throw him onto the desk. He pinned him there, rather enjoying his superior strength as he looked down at the man with a cocky smirk, his arm against his chest to keep him down, holding the by now heated metal against his throat once more, the other hand still in his hair.

"Let's see how handy they come in for me."

That said he lifted the letter opener above his head with a wicked expression and brought it down hard, missing Oswald's throat by just an inch, but ramming it into the wood. He wasted no time, already opening a drawer.

Lots of dangerous things indeed. Sometimes a little too many. The whole mansion was full of weapons, items they could use to hurt people, and each other, there was really a lot they could do with what was there. It did make playing a lot more exciting. He watched Edward carefully, trying to predict what move he'd make next. It was all about his mood and just how he felt that would determine what would happen next.

He judged wrong. Not entirely uncommon, it happened often. He assumed Edward was going to fuck him right here in the chair and suddenly, he was being thrown across the desk instead. He yelped in surprise and clambered further along the desk to get more purchase on it, hoping nothing of value would get broke. Like he said, he had expensive taste.

"Now, friend, you're just showing off. It's not going to be that easy!" Oswald never liked to make it easy, Edward was stronger but Oswald was slippery. He made a move to slide free, one leg kicking out at Edward's just to make it more of a challenge. That was where the fun lied, of course.

He did, however, hold entirely still as the knife slammed into the wood just inches away from him, his breathing halting as he looked at Edward with wide eyes. He stopped dead in that moment. Oh, he meant business. Oswald laughed nervously, eyes looking at where the letter opened was embedded. Shit.

"That's right." Oh, he did love the sound of that nervous laugh, no wonder it also tore a chuckle out of him, perhaps just slightly on the crazed side. He looked at the letter opener already in the desk and gave it a twist, just so it would lean to the side a little, right above Oswald's throat. His smile only grew as he felt around in the drawer, hands closing around another letter opener. Who needed more than one?

No matter. He held it up and leaned in, kissing Oswald, the metal of the first letter opener caught between them. The moment he moved back, he lifted his hand further and then, with a loud thud, he brought the other letter opener down, making sure the two crossed right above Oswald's throat, just a way to make sure he'd not get quite that slippery.

"If it's not going to be easy, then that's because I'll make it hard on you." That said he already snatched up Oswald's hands in his, another hungry kiss while he moved his arms above his head, pressing them down against the polished wood of the desk.

"This desk is very expensive too, you know?" Oswald said it breathlessly as he squirmed, fortunately to occupied to really consider how much it was going to cost to fix that desk. He didn't care right now, he didn't care about anything but Edward and what he was going to do next with that awfully sharp letter opener. He couldn't move much, sitting up wasn't something he could do either, all he could do was watch Edward.

Yes, he could struggle still, he still caught the side of Edward's shin with his foot as hard as he could but that didn't mean he had much wiggle room to do anything.

"You're going to pay for this." Whatever Edward wanted to think of that as was up to him but really, he could have meant the desk, the shirt or what he was doing to Oswald. All seemed possible.

"Am I? How interesting." Edward smiled and stood up, one hand holding Oswald's hands down as he walked around the desk, tugging his own tie free. He didn't waste any time, once he was around the desk, using the tie - expensive silk that Oswald had bought for him now ruined, of course - to bind Oswald's wrists together, crossed and tight, because he knew how slippery the man could be.

It was a fun game now, to spot another letter opener still on the desk. He'd have to find something else to use if he continued with his, to his knowledge that was the last letter opener in the room. No matter, there were plenty of other things around that he could use.

He let go of Oswald's bound hands, after positioning them high enough above his head to force him to stretch his arms. "I'd recommend you hold very still." Said while he lifted the letter opener and then - bang - it came down again, between Oswald's arms, piercing the tie that bound him, making sure he couldn't move his hands an inch.

Edward had to laugh again, moving a few steps back only to run them so he could jump on the desk. There he stood, one foot on either of Oswald's sides, looking down at him. His legs might still be free, but he was still bent backwards over his desk, unable to move much. The position couldn't be very comfortable, but it did look ever so vulnerable. "Behold the King of Gotham, ladies and gentlemen!"

He knelt down on one knee, allowing him to ruffle Oswald's hair. "How are you feeling, my little bird?"

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