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No Bars or Chains (can keep me from your bed)

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No Bars Or Chains
                             (can keep me from your bed)



Silence filled the first few days. Oswald sat with his face pressed against the bars, staring at Edward from the moment he woke to the moment he fell asleep. When Talon threw him in the oversized birdcage he flaunted his name and former power to no avail - three words whispered incredulously from the darkness turned him nearly feral. Oswald hadn’t spoken since.

Edward’s anger disappeared as Oswald had limped toward him. Alive. Truly alive. He hadn’t lost the most important person in his life! He hadn’t killed him! To Edward Os had already atoned. He’d put him to rest, out of conscious thought and out of his delusions. At the docks Ed broke his heart. At the docks, he’d shot him and left him to die. Drown or bleed out, whichever came first.

But he’d survived.

In his fantasies, in his dreams, Oswald always came back - he’d never admit that aloud, no matter how he was tortured. Usually the resurrections were momentous affairs. Bright lights, fancy clothes, feasts… never in matching grey speedsuits in cages, close enough to touch.

Close enough to kill.

He’d tried. Ed watched as the disbelief mirrored in Oswald’s face turned to sorrow, then hate - in that moment Os reached out and grabbed at him, most likely to throttle him for any manner of transgressions.

After all, Edward defiled his father’s body. Edward shattered his hopes. Edward shot him.

Safely out of his reach, however, Ed saw the flash of rage disappear. Oswald’s eyes were wide, but his lips shook. Was it possible he still loved him? After all he’d done to him… After all they’d done to each other…

Oswald shifted slightly against the bars.

He should want to kill Ed. He should want to claw his throat out through the bars of their cages, feel his flesh rip beneath his nails as Edward’s blood poured over him. A baptism of a broken heart. As soon as he’d seen the way Ed looked at him, though, he’d withdrawn.

Lips parted, breathing slowly, Oswald could see the disbelief on Edward’s face - as well as his relief. He looked as though he was facing a ghost he’d missed - and maybe he was. Maybe he was dead and this was all a dream.

Oswald didn’t understand how Ivy found him or saved him, but he knew he owed the weird plant girl his life. If he had any control, Ed would never find out about her. She might be irritating, but Oswald wanted to keep her safe. A family… she was right. They were a family. Even the firebug who burned patterns in his hardwood floors. Even the frozen prick sleeping in his walk-in. A weird, dysfunctional family of freaks.

And he’d protect them.

The rage that burned hot inside him, the pain, the loss… seeing Ed flinch drained it all away. Seeing Ed fighting the urge to step closer took the confidence right out of him. What happened to him while Oswald was in a coma? Ed was unhinged in the footage he’d watched night after night. Rewinding, replaying, until he could recite Ed’s words line for line. Ed was jittery when they’d first met. Under Oswald’s wing, with Oswald’s faith, he’d grown relaxed. Confident. His genius made him unpredictable, but he always had every situation under control.

As The Riddler he was absolutely mad. Flashy, flamboyant, and gorgeous of course - but completely different than Oswald had ever seen him.

Even in Arkham.

Was he even the same Edward Nygma that Oswald fell in love with?

But he’d - he’d looked at Oswald like he was the world, even after murdering Isabella.

After putting a bullet in his stomach.

Oswald stared, barely blinking, as his emotions warred within him.

On the fifth day, Ed moved closer.


While Oswald slept, Edward risked a closer look. He’d seen Oswald out cold before - long nights at his desk with his head cradled in his arms, huddled under five blankets on Ed’s bed, snoring softly in the master bed at Van Dahl manor even though he missed three appointments with important clients… but in his cage Oswald slept differently. He lay curled up protectively, making no noise whatsoever. Ed had to stare at his lips for any sign he was breathing. Oswald’s body barely even moved - he looked ready to run at any moment.

Still Ed kept distance between them…

Until Oswald shifted his weight. In their rush to imprison him they’d done his buttons up wrong. Ed could see the marred flesh of his scar, healed an even paler shade than Oswald’s skin - a feat he’d thought impossible.

There was proof he lived. A scar, not even he’d imagined a scar on Oswald when he conjured him up from the depths of his lonely heart.

Edward reached through the bars, long fingers brushing the buttons as he tried to touch Oswald’s scar. He needed to know. He needed to know Oswald was there, alive and warm…

A loud clang sent him scuttling backward against the bars of his own cell. Talon brought their breakfast, stale bread and oatmeal, and slid the trays beneath each door before leaving them alone once again. A man of thankfully little words, Ed thought, slowly sliding his tray toward him.

While Edward ate he scooted a little closer, unable to take his eyes off of Oswald’s sleeping form.


When Oswald woke and pulled himself into a sitting position Edward was simply closer. Their meals came while he’d slept, and Ed’s tray was empty. Oswald pulled his close and resumed his silent vigil, eating the stale bread without tasting it.

He was thankful, really. The Court gave them scraps, and the less he could taste the better he assumed he would be. Oswald ate for strength and nothing more - should the court make an attempt on their lives he needed to be able to slaughter their assassins.

And, should Edward try to…

For a brief moment Oswald closed his eyes. He hated showing vulnerability to Ed, but knowing that he could finish what he started scared him. It actually scared him. When he looked up once more Ed’s gaze was turned down. He seemed to be fussing with a string sticking out of his sleeve.

Ed gave him privacy.

He set the bread down and grabbed the bars slowly, letting out a deep breath. Edward sat up and blinked quickly. Oswald looked like a starving man seeing a feast laid before him. Hunger settled in his eyes as he licked his lips.

Ed. Ed. Ed. Ed. Ed.

His name was a chorus in his mind, both a condemnation and a prayer. All-consuming. The only thought he could formulate. Need and Revenge ebbed and flowed within his blood. Oswald was like an animal, a predator barely restraining himself from his instincts.

If only he knew what those instincts were.


Ed was keenly aware of how filthy they both were. It was cold in their cells but they still sweat, they still produced oil in their skin and hair. Oswald’s was a particularly rough mess; old product and sleeping on the floor did nothing for it, but Ed liked the way it made him look.

It made Oswald look desperate, a sexual need dripping from his dark gaze that -


Ed cleared his throat and forced himself to look away.

He’d never been into men until he saw Oswald at the GCPD. A fancy suit, good hair, Oswald exuded command. Ed was drawn to him the moment he’d laid eyes on him. No matter how hard he fought he couldn’t escape the way he felt - not when Os was ‘cured’, not when Os killed the woman he loved, not even now. As fulfilling as it had been to crush Oswald’s heart it felt like shit afterwards.

Now he had no right to find Oswald attractive.

Edward lay down again. He’d been up early, and the thick tension between them was exhausting. Living in fear, of Oswald and the court, was exhausting. He set his glasses aside and started to close his eyes.

Movement stopped him. Oswald had risen up on his knees and undone his jumpsuit. Freckles dotted his porcelain skin, leaving a void where his scar tissue shone. Dark black hair trailed down his soft stomach, meeting the once-carefully trimmed hair of his pelvis. Oswald’s cock was erect, the rosy, wet tip poking out of the folds of his foreskin.

His mouth fell open as he watched Oswald wrap a hand around his cock and start to stroke. His head rested against the bars, one hand clutching them for support as he jerked off in the dim red light. His hand slid up and down his full erection, rolling the skin over the sensitive tip, drawing out more of the natural lubrication.

For a moment Ed wondered if he was dreaming again. Like the serenade, like the hours spent rutting against Oswald’s pillows in the darkness -

Oswald was watching him still, but not like before.

Oswald didn’t see he was awake.

To Oswald, Ed realized, he’d taken his glasses off and gone back to bed. In the darkness of the underground prison the only light came from the red-lit room beside theirs. Oswald couldn’t see his eyes were open, not with the way the shadows fell.

A low, soft moan split the silence - the first sound Edward had heard Oswald make since they locked him in his cage. His own body ached in response. His hand slid down between his legs and he started to caress himself over the filthy jumpsuit. Oswald’s voice was higher than most men he knew; the sounds that slipped from Oswald's throat as he palmed his own cock were music to Ed’s ears. His grip tightened around his hardening package as his ears were graced with another note from Oswald's lonely song. He heard the other man's hand begin to quicken as it slid along his skin and Ed’s heart pounded faster in his chest.

Would he make those pretty noises as he held Ed down against the cold cement floor and fucked him raw?

“Oswald,” Ed breathed, snapping open the button of his jumpsuit and sliding his hand inside. It would be so easy to just get off… He wrapped his sender fingers around his semi-hard cock and stroked himself into full thickness.

“A-ah! Fuck!” Oswald spilled over his hand and the floor, panting hard.

Ed could hear his throat catch as he swallowed. He’d been caught but instead of stopping Edward continued to touch himself. He slid his hand vigorously over his throbbing cock, watching Oswald as he tried to catch his breath. His own escaped from his dry lips, as his cock spurted his release in his suit. He came hard.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Ed pushed himself up. With his still-hard cock hanging freely from his jumpsuit, he crawled toward Oswald, feeling a hunger like he’d never experienced before.

Come spattered both their floors by the bars where Oswald knelt. Edward leaned down and dragged his tongue through the filth, grit and come coating it. Edward lapped at the floor like a dog, licking up every spilled drop within his own bars and swallowing the mess Oswald had left for him.

Oswald whined at the sight. Ed tilted his head up, studying Oswald for a moment. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. He never thought the first time he tasted another man would be off a dirty concrete floor - but he had no regrets, and he'd do it again.

Quick as lightning Oswald grabbed him through the bars and yanked him into a rough kiss. He forced his tongue between Edward's chapped lips, tasting the himself and the floor in his mouth.

Ed shoved his own arm through in response, hitting it against the steel bars in his haste, but the pain didn’t stop him from dragging his nails down Oswald’s scar.

Moaning, Oswald jerked Ed’s head by his hair and broke their kiss, gazing at the red lights shining in them. “Ed…”, he spoke softly, tightening his grip on Ed’s dark hair.

But before Ed could muster up a response, Oswald shoved his head down to his waist and filled Ed’s mouth with his hard, sloppy cock.

Edward choked on the shaft being shoved down his throat, but he adjusted and took Oswald’s cock willingly. He wrapped his hand around the base, taking slightly more control of how Oswald entered him.

Oswald's head fell back and he thrust harder, hitting the tip of his cock on the back of Edward's mouth. “You tried to kill me, Ed,” he groaned through his teeth, the first words he'd spoken since being thrown in the cage. “And now my cock is down your throat.”

Edward tried to mumble out a reply, but Oswald was determined to keep his mouth full. The hold on Edward's head grew more intense, threatening to tear out strands of hair. He dipped his tongue between the folds of Oswald’s foreskin, letting it circle around his leaking tip. The taste in his mouth wasn’t the most pleasant - nether of them had bathed in days, he recalled - but Edward couldn’t complain. His lips were right where he wanted them.

In the darkness Os’ hips slammed against the bars. He’d be bruised tomorrow, but their captors never paid attention - it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Edward taking every inch of him, drooling onto the ground and gagging as Oswald fucked his throat.

When he came Edward sputtered.

“Swallow,” Oswald commanded. He felt the suction as Ed obeyed him, swallowing his hot load. Os shoved him back, letting go of his hair. Time seemed frozen as they knelt panting, staring at one another again. It wasn’t enough. It was too much. Oswald couldn’t let himself forget what Edward did; pleasure or not, Ed wouldn’t be let off so lightly. He pulled his suit back on and backed himself into the far corner of his cage.

Within moments he was sleeping, his head lolling against the bars.

He didn’t speak again.


Ed woke first. Each rasping breath burned his throat. In his small water cup there was enough for a single drink - just enough to take the edge off the raw pain.

Last night felt like a dream. Edward was sure that it was with the kind of things he imagined himself doing - and with Oswald no less. He stared at the blurry image in the cell next to his own and remembered the taste that coated his lips as he slept. If he could remember that, maybe their actions were real.

Edward had lost track of the days and how long he'd been locked away in the strange cage. His grip on reality faded more with each passing moment.

Oswald turned from the wall and faced the bars between their cells, finding Edward sitting on the floor and gawking with an expressionless glare.

“You always come to me,” Edward whispered, scooting closer to the bars. “Even without the drugs, I knew you’d come back sooner or later.”

Oswald rolled back over to the wall. He wanted no part of what was happening in the other cell.

“Hey…. Hey!” Edward murmured more aggressively, trying to gain Os’ attention. “You’ve never turned your back on me before.”

Oswald continued to ignore the man. Last night was nothing more than just raw tension and the relief of aggression. If Edward thought anything had changed between them, then The Riddler found himself barking up the wrong fucking tree.

“What's wrong with you? You're never this silent,” Edward commented, picking up the metal cup which once held his only gulp of water. “Oh… I get it now.” He tipped the cup back, allowing the last drops to drip in the back of his dry throat. Every little bead momentarily soothed the pain.

“You're taunting me,” he continued “You're upset. Well... I had to make you pay.” He set the cup back on the floor and traced his finger around the rim. “I didn't need you then, but I need you now - to help me find a way to get out of here. We could do it, you know. Just me and you. Just like before when we planned to kill the elite of Gotham. I know you remember.” A malicious grin stretched across his face. “That was fun.”

All he got was a sigh. Oswald didn’t have the faintest idea what Edward was talking about and he didn’t care. All he wanted was for Edward to shut his trap so that he could spend the remainder of the day in this dank, dirty cell sleeping and trying to forget the fact that Edward Nygma even existed.

“Talk to me….” Edward grew more impatient the longer Oswald ignored him. “I said talk to me!” His voice raised with every word and he lifted up the cup from the floor. “Talk to me, god dammit!” He threw the cup through the bars.

It hit Oswald squarely in the back.

Oswald fumed with rage the instant he was assaulted. He rose to his feet as fast as his weakened body could move and shuffled towards the bars. When he reached them he stopped before Edward, his body dominating Ed’s sight.

Edward lifted his eyes up to Oswald, pleased with himself - now he had his full attention.

“You must be thirsty,” Oswald said in a dry, raspy voice. “Let me help you with that.” He popped open the buttons of his jumpsuit and pulled out his cock, showering Edward with piss.

Sputtering, Ed lifted his hand to block the spray. This was… new. Base, vile, but he couldn’t help the way his cock stiffened in his suit. Realization dawned on his face.

“Oswald - Oswald!”

Oswald aimed his stream at Edward's mouth. If he was going to keep talking, then Oswald would fill it.

Edward coughed, taking piss with each hollowed breath - the taste on his tongue was bitter, flat, and heavy with the chemical stench of ammonia. He should have found it revolting. “Os-Oswald!”, he choked out. He should be more enraged about getting soaked in another man's hot urine, but he found something wildly simulating about the liquid bathing his skin - something feral that made his cock ache in his piss stained jumpsuit.

He wasn’t sure if these new desires were the result of their isolation from the world or if it was something that'd always lurked deep inside of him, but Edward found the urge to act upon his thirst was far more strenuous to subside.

Edward leaned forward and opened his mouth, welcoming Oswald inside of him.

Shock painted Oswald's face as he watched Edward drink his piss. He had the natural reaction to stop, but he didn’t act. There was something powerful and erotic about witnessing the man he loved drinking from his body. “I knew you were thirsty,” he growled through his teeth. “Drink it all up.”

He was made for this. Edward’s thick lips parted as he took more, swallowing Oswald’s urine. Shuddering, he crawled closer on his knees. “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, Oswald.”

When his bladder was empty Oswald reached down and yanked Ed to his feet. He kissed him hard, tasting himself upon those beautiful wet lips, biting at Edward's mouth. “You’re fucking filthy,” he snarled, reaching through the bars and grabs Edward by the ass. “I love you like this.”

“Love?” Ed managed to reply, tipping his head to the right in confusion. He couldn't deny that there's something between them, but he didn't think it was love.

Oswald seemed to catch himself. He released his hold on Ed and started to back away -

Ed sank back down to the wet concrete and caught Os’ leg, desperate for Oswald not to go - lost in what he could only describe as a spell. “No. No, come here. Please, Oswald…” He stopped Oswald from backing away. He needed him. He needed more of his body and he didn't care how he got it. “Please, don't go. Stay right here,” he begged.

Grudgingly, Oswald obliged. He stayed where he was, watching Ed curiously.

Edward hands slowly lingered up to Oswald's bare, half-hard cock and he started to stroke it delicately. Taking his time to warm Oswald up to his touch. “Thank you, Oswald.” He gazed up at Oswald, piss dipping down his face, wet glasses crooked on the bridge on his nose. His rich brown eyes were filled with an insatiable hunger. Lust.

Oswald ran his hand through Edward's drenched hair, then ghosted it down his cheek before stopping at the edge of his lips. Oswald forced his thumb between Edward's lips and pulled him into his waist.

Edward pressed his face against the steel and dragged his tongue over Oswald’s piss-glistened head. “Mmn…” As Oswald watched, he slid it beneath his foreskin.

“Ah! Edward—” Os tangled his fist in his hair once more— “don't -- don't be such a tease!,” he panted. “Suck it properly…” Oswald clenched his jaw and grinded his teeth as Edward fully took his length inside.

While he sucked Oswald more properly, gliding his slick lips up and down his shaft, Edward gripped at Oswald’s half-open jumpsuit. He pulled it down from Os’ shoulder until it slumped to the floor - leaving Oswald naked before him.

“Mmm…”, Edward’s throat vibrated against his cock as he hummed. He slid his puckered lips down to the base as if he were lapping up a melting popsicle. Ed pulled back and sucked on his index finger, slicking it, before snaking his hand to the back of Oswald's thigh. His grip was firm as he dug his fingers into his flesh.

Oswald clung to the steel bars, holding himself up to keep his knees from buckling. He cried louder as Edward separated his cheeks and slipped his saliva-soaked finger inside Oswald's tight hole.

It’d been so long since Os had even touched himself; here, in their strange prison, he’d indulged himself for the first time since Edward met his little… distraction. Having someone finger him was even more rare an occurrence. Moaning, he spread his legs to let Edward in. His slender finger stretched him open, Os’ body relaxing around him. Each careful thrust coaxed desperate noises from Oswald’s throat - It wasn’t enough, he needed more.

When Oswald could barely hold back his climax Ed added a second finger and sought his nerves. He rubbed quickly, pressing against his prostate -

Oswald screamed as he came down Edward’s throat, muscles tight and tense.

Edward swallowed Oswald's release, feeling the same surging energy that washed over him when Oswald showered him in piss. This was the feeling he wanted to achieve and he knew only Oswald could grant it to him. He licked the cum from his lips, savoring the taste of every drop. “Thank you,” he said, removing his fingers from Oswald's ass and lifting them to his nose. Smelling them sent more jolts down his spine.

After regaining control of his body, Oswald lifted his jumpsuit from the floor to right his appearance. He finally backed away from the bars, returning to his brooding silence.

Edward crawled over to the far side of the cage and lay on the floor, still sniffing the fingers that were once inside of Oswald. He laid still, lost in the aroma gracing his nose, drifting to sleep with the thoughts of what they’d done haunting his mind.


Later that night, Edward was awoken by a wad of paper hitting him squarely in the face. He opened his eyes to find Oswald standing at the bars.

Oswald smirked, beckoning him with a come-hither motion.

Placing the glasses on his face, Edward sat up and rose to his feet. He watched Oswald standing quietly, sliding his hands down the steel bars and waiting patiently for Edward to step forward.

Drawn in by curiosity and the ghostly pull he felt tugging him closer to the bars, Edward went to Oswald - wondering to himself what more could possibly come.

Reaching through the bars, Oswald slowly popped open the buttons of Edward's jumpsuit and caressed his hand over Ed's pale chest. His eyes glistened from the red lights shining through the bars of their cages, making them appear darker than the myriad green hues Ed was used to. He dug his nails into Edward's chest and scraped them down to his stomach, breaking the skin enough to leave long angry strips threatening to bleed.

A low grunt escaped Ed’s lips. “Uhn….” He shivered from the pain. He reached to unbutton Oswald's suit but his hand was met with a swift slap. He yelped softly, pulling the hand away.

“Don't touch,” Oswald retorted. He yanked Ed hard against the bars by his suit. Edward's face smashed between the steel. “Do you understand?”, he asked, demanding an immediate answer.

“Y-Yes,” Edward sputtered, as his cock began to strain against the bars.

Oswald pressed his lips to Edward's, stealing away Ed’s breath as he pushed his tongue between his lips. He broke off their connection and shoved Ed away from the bars. “Take your clothes off,” he ordered.

Edward complied, ripping open the rest of his suit and letting it fall to the floor.

Oswald followed his every move. His gaze seemed to burn through Ed, searing his very skin. They’d changed with each other before, but never like this - never with the promise of something sexual weighing heavy in the air.

In his pocket rested a small bottle of lubricant. It was easy enough to procure; he told a guard of a small cache of money he’d stashed away in exchange for his cooperation. With such an easy request, why would the girl deny it? He smiled to himself as its weight rested against his thigh.

A weapon, a means of escape may have been more useful, but Oswald wasn’t sure Ed would play along if he were free. If he weren’t so desperate and starved for attention.

“Come back,” he ordered.

Ed stalked forward without modesty. Bare, filthy, he had nothing to hide. Last night Oswald saw him soaked in piss; nudity felt less intimate somehow.

“Good boy,” Oswald breathed. “On your knees. Turn around.”

Curious though he was Ed knelt and offered his ass to Oswald. Did he plan on eating him out? Was he going to take out his anger on him? His body tensed in anticipation of pain.

Oswald spread his cheeks and peered at his hole. Tight, pale, it quivered when he leaned closer. “Not bad,” he said, voice soft and low. “Almost pretty.” Goosebumps spread across Ed’s skin - he felt like an animal at auction, inspected for breeding. His cock twitched where it hung.

Something hot and slick slid over his asshole.

“Ah! Mmn, Oswald - “ Ed’s body shuddered.

Oswald’s tongue had slid over his hole.

Oswald lapped at his ass, feeling it relax under his attention. He sealed his lips against Ed’s skin and sucked gently. He tasted like sweat and copper. It drove him mad. Oswald pressed his tongue inside. His jaw moved in time with his lips, chin rubbing against Edward’s sensitive flesh. A soft, muffled moan slipped from his throat.

One hand squeezed his firm cheeks and kneaded slowly. Edward’s ass was perfect in every way - just how he’d imagined it during long, lonely nights when his bed felt empty and his body ached for Edward to touch it.

The more relaxed Ed’s muscle grew, the quicker Oswald fucked him with his tongue. He knew he couldn’t eat him out forever, but god he wanted to.

Finally he pulled back, his face slick with spit. Oswald admired his pink, wet hole. It was a sight he’d never forget.

He took out the lube and popped the cap open, muffling the sound with his hand. Oswald squeezed lube onto the tip of his fingers and spread the cold gel over Edward's puckered hole. He watched as Ed's body quivered under his touch, wondering how hard he could make his body shake.

Oswald dipped his slickened thumb inside of Edward as if he were a farmer inspecting his cattle. “So tight…” His voice was low and smoky as he pumped his thick digit in and out. “I'm going to change that.”

Edward closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip as Oswald pushed his thumb deeper. “Ah… Oh, Oswald…” His muscle pulsed around the penetrating finger and he rolled his hips back on Os’ hand. “Y-Yes…”, he said breathlessly. His fingertips turned white as he pressed them hard against the cement floor. Ed's body relaxed after Oswald took back his hand.

Oswald sniffed his thumb. The aroma sent the hairs on the back of his neck on edge. His cock ached more profusely as his pants began to tighten around him. He licked his thumb to gain another taste of the flavour he'd craved to have on his tongue everyday. “Mmm…”, he hummed, slipping the thumb from his lip. He coated his fingers with more of the lube before entering Edward's warm, inviting hole again. This time with two.

“Ah, ah!” Edward cried, feeling himself stretching wider as Oswald scissored his fingers inside him.

The sounds of Edward's moans were like a symphony to Oswald, echoing through their dark, dank, prison. “You like that, don't you Ed?” he asked, quickening the rhythm of his hand. It’s like your pussy is sucking my thumb…”

“Mmm…. Yes…”, Ed moaned. He arched his back. Edward placed his right hand on his round cheek and held his ass open. His left arm wobbled as it held his balance, but he managed to keep his position. “Yes, I like -- like that,” he replied once more.

“I know you would; you’re a dirty prison whore aren’t you?” Oswald dipped his fingers deeper, rubbing them over the swollen nerves inside of Edward. “Your ass is just eating my hand.”

Edward blushed. His cock hung heavy and thick between his thighs, leaking onto the floor. “Yes,” he whispered. “I am.”

“Say it, Ed.”

“Don’t make me-”

Oswald stroked his nerves again, coaxing a strangled cry from Ed’s throat. “Say it!” he ordered and dug his finger knuckles deep into Edward.

Ed’s body trembled with pleasurable pain as he forced out the words Oswald demanded to hear. “I’m - ah, fuck!” He tensed when Oswald twisted his hand inside his stretched ass. “I’m a d-dirty prison whore!”, Edward finally shouted.

“Good boy,” Oswald praised with a smirk across his features.

“Please, Oswald-”

“Please what?” Oswald asked, spreading his fingers as much as he could. “Are you ready for my cock? Then beg me, Ed. Beg Daddy to fuck you.”

Fire burned a blackened path through Edward’s veins. His knees nearly buckled beneath him. This was new - he’d thought of it, surely, when Oswald started buying him suits and letting him live in Van Dahl Manor, but to hear Oswald speak so boldly?

Daddy. His sugar daddy. His Daddy.

All they could have had if he’d just been honest with himself. If he’d left Isabella alone. If he’d come home that night and ate with Oswald, drunk on wine and unable to bite his tongue any longer…

Edward wanted this. He’d always wanted this.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” he whined, pressing his chest low to the floor. “Please! I’ll be good, just - show me how wrong I was. Show me what I could have had! Daddy, I’ll do anything. Anything to feel your cock.”

Oswald withdrew his fingers. He slicked his cock with steady hands, eyes never leaving Ed’s empty hole. Hearing his voice waver with need overpowered his self control. Oswald shoved his cock inside of Edward with a guttural moan, but he didn’t give Edward what he wanted. Oswald held himself still within Ed’s slicked, warm cheeks, refusing to thrust. Edward's body shivered underneath him, yearning to be fucked Daddy’s hard cock.

“Do you like the way—” Oswald drew back his cock and circled the tip around Edward's puckered hole— “Daddy feels inside of you?”

“Yes, b-but it's not enough.”

“You've thought about this before, haven't you?” He cupped Edward's balls with his left hand while continuing to tease Ed's opening with his leaking tip. “You've thought about your ass getting filled with my cock.”

“Yes! Yes!” Edward cried out and pushed himself back against the steel bars in anguish to feel Oswald's full length. “Oh, Daddy, please!” He rolled his hips, increasing the friction between his muscle and Oswald’s head, but this act of desperation still wasn’t enough. “F-Fuck me! I need Daddy's cock now!”

“I enjoy seeing you begging for my cock.” He inched a little more of himself inside and tightened his hold on Edward’s sack. “That day at the dock when you shot me, you didn't want to put a bullet in me did you?”

Edward whimpered, unable to speak a coherent world as his body ached to be filled. His heavy balls trembled under the other man's grip.

He did in fact want to shoot Oswald that day. Edward thought he deserved it for taking away the best thing he's ever had, their friendship, but Ed also craved something else.

“You wanted this as well,” Oswald continued, groaning through stained teeth. Lightning-quick, he grabbed onto the prison bars. He thrusted his hips and slammed his cock deep inside of Edward’s asshole.

“Ah! Fuck!” Edward screamed out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

“That’s right,” Oswald hissed. He snapped his hips, fucking Edward quick and hard. “Make noise for me. Daddy wants to hear you shriek.” His hips bounced against the bars. Snarling, Oswald let himself enjoy the wet heat clinging to his cock.

“Daddy!” Edward cried, letting his head fall forward. “Harder, harder! Please!” His body rocked forward with Oswald's lunges. “I’m - I wanted you to fuck me, to t-take away my gun and bend me over the crates.” He rolled his hips just in time to take the impact of Oswald's powerful thrusts. “I wish you would have just, just fucked me before everything went - “

Oswald slapped his ass hard enough to sting his palm.

“Shut up, Ed!”, he ordered. Oswald pushed his cock deep into Edward, reminding The Riddler who was in control. “If you bring that up again—” he bucked his hips hard with a single thrust— “I’m not going to let you come!”

“Ah - y-yes, yes Daddy… I’ll be good.”

“Oh, I know you will.”

With each sharp thrust Oswald rolled his hips, coaxing desperate gasps from Ed. Screams and fevered pleading echoed in their cell. He dragged his nails down Edward’s skin hard enough to draw blood. They needed this. Os needed this. More than anything he needed control as the life he built spiraled away from him.

But he had Ed. He finally had Edward Nygma, and oh, what a pretty sight he made impaled on his cock.

“Talk to me, Ed. Tell me how it feels to finally be fucked properly.”

Edward moaned with the force of Oswald's prod, as his strained cock swung freely between his thighs. “It feels… It f-feels so good, Daddy. It’s what I…ah, ah…always wanted...”

“I knew it was.” His hold on the bars tightened as he fucked Ed harder and deeper, hitting the head of his drooling cock against Edward's prostate over and over.

Their cell filled with the sounds of steel bars knocking, hollowed breathing, and sweaty, dirty, bodies slapping together.

“Daddy?…”, Edward panted. “Can I t-touch myself?”

“You've been such a good boy…. Yes, you can touch yourself, but you better not cum until I tell you to.”

“Oh… Oh, thank you, Daddy!” Edward dipped his right hand between his legs and pumped his cock from base to end, pre-cum dripping on the filthy prison floor.

Oswald’s legs trembled. He wouldn’t last long, not with Ed so pliant beneath him. Their bodies rolled together in desperate rhythm as sweat trailed down their skin. It was too much, more than he could bear -

Oswald gasped as he came, cock spilling into Ed’s raw hole. He twitched deep inside as he gripped Ed by the hips to keep him in place. Once Oswald felt the ecstatic high starting to fade, he shoved Edward off of him - pushing the slender man down to the sticky, cum-stained floor.

Edward instantly turned over, eyeing Oswald with alarm across his features. This wasn't what he predicted. He thought he'd get to cum with Oswald's cock up his ass.

“We don't all get exactly what we want,” Oswald hissed through strained teeth, slowly pumping his hand up and down his dripping cock. As Ed watched he milked himself of anything left, body slightly quivering as waves of pleasure rippled through him.

“You don't get to cum with me inside of you.” He removed his hand from his cock and licked the mess clean. “Not yet anyway… So touch yourself, Eddie and come for Daddy.”

Edward lay down on his back and spread his legs wide open directly in Oswald's view. Cum oozed out of his gaping hole and slid down his crack to the floor. He fingered himself with his left hand and worked his shaft with his right.

“Ah… Ah!” Edward arched his back, finger-fucking himself to completion.

Oswald watched, his eyes glazed over with an insatiable hunger as he witnessed Edward fuck himself.

“Call out to me, Ed,” he commanded.

“Oh Daddy… Oh, I wish you were still fucking me, Daddy...”

“I bet you do, you dirty prison whore.” His hands gripped tighter around the steel bars, drooling from the mouth at the sight of Ed splayed before him. “You want me to eat that pussy again?”

“Yes, please, eat my pussy!” Edward shouted, stroking his fingers in and out of his pulsating ass, jerking his other hand vigorously around his cock.

“Maybe I will someday, but right now, you need to cum for Daddy.”

“Yes -- yes!” Edward's balls trembled as the sensations in his ass and around his cock became too much to bare. His toes curled as he came, forceful, squirting his creamy release onto his stomach.

Oswald slumped to the ground. A pleased grin touched his lips as he gazed at Edward. If they were to explore this - whatever it was - between them, they couldn’t do it locked up in giant birdcages. Not for a sustainable amount of time.

“Once you can walk again, we should take out the guards.”

Edward’s legs slid from underneath him and he collapsed flat on the floor, panting. “Escape to--together?”

“How else are we supposed to get out of here alive?”

Edward sluggishly sat up and crawled to Oswald at the bars. He had a few ideas of what to expect when all of this was over, but to flee from their prison together is far from what he had fathomed.

“I would love that, Oswald. We could play off the rivalry? By now everyone knows what we did to each other. No one at the GCPD can keep their mouths shut.”

Smiling, Ed pressed his face against the bars.

“You’re a genius.”

“I know I'm a….”, Edward paused for a moment. They had both threatened to kill each other before fucking like animals. Would Oswald still have a taste for revenge once exiting their dark cell? “You're not going to kill me are you?”

“After what happened here, I plan to keep you close.”

“Close and alive?”

Oswald laughed. He knew Ed had every reason to be suspicious, but he couldn’t help himself. In truth he found his paranoia adorable.

“Close and alive,” he repeated. Oswald leaned close to Ed, where he still sat pressed against the steel. “When they bring us lunch, don’t eat it. We’re going to…”