They wander out of the bathroom quietly, Oswald giggling like a teenager sneaking out at night. He quickly dresses in Jim's clothes and exits after checking his friend's even breathing.
The bedroom is painted orange from the setting sun and the blinds cast long, black lines across Victor’s body.
He sleeps with one bent knee raised and his arms crossed behind his head, under the pillow. His face is relaxed and he almost looks friendly with the GCPD logo emblazed on his tee.
Jim smirks at the passive revenge and follows Oswald out without another glance. When he shuts the door behind him, he asks, “You hungry?”
“Very. I thought you didn’t cook, though.”
“I meant takeout.” Jim feels guilty for ignoring the food in the fridge, but aside from frying up eggs and bacon he really can’t cook. He does check the contents but he comes up clueless as to what to do with any of it.
“Chinese.” Oswald doesn’t miss a beat, smiling cheekily.
“Done. What do you want?”
“Literally anything you’re having, please.” Jim nods and grabs his phone. He spends five minutes ordering and once he’s finished, he leaps onto Oswald for another make out session.
“I’ve never seen someone eat so much and still be hungry,” Jim comments as he helps Oswald to clear up the dining table of plastic containers.
“I can’t help it! I’ve got a big appetite.”
“I noticed,” Jim smiles as he wraps an arm around Oswald’s waist and pulls him back into a hug. “We should talk about this.”
“What? My need for dessert?” Oswald spins and plants his palms on Jim’s chest, leaning his weight onto him when his leg starts to ache. “I need to sit down. My leg-“
“Of course, here.” Jim guides the kingpin to the couch, helping him lie down. He props the bad leg on a floral pillow. “I meant us. We need to talk about how this is going to work.”
“I see. Well, I was thinking you and I just spend as much time as possible kissing.”
Oswald smiles charmingly, his hand grabs Jim’s and absentmindedly rubs his knuckles. The detective sits on the coffee table, making sure he has the kingpin’s full attention.
“Os, you’re aware I have a record... with partners. I’m not good at romance.”
“I must also confess something, Jim. I’ve never dated. So we’re both a bit lost, but I care for you. I always have and I know you do too.”
“Did Victor tell you that?” Jim tries to pass the comment off as a joke but it falls flat and Oswald glances away.
“Yes. I needed to know why you were doing this. I didn’t think you’d ever tell me in person. Victor offered to question you and I agreed. He told me everything.”
“Even that I like him too?” Jim rubs the back of his neck, amazed that Oswald is still holding his hand. He feels dirty for even mentioning his interest in Victor. He was only just starting something with Oswald. He’s already ruining things.
If you don't count all the other times, his mind offers cynically.
“Yes, that too. I’m not jealous, if that’s what you imagine. The two people who have my back and my full trust like each other. Call me naive but I think we could work something out between us.”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘threesome'.” Jim supplies, his mind reeling and overflowing with ideas and dreams. Maybe all isn’t lost.
“That’s sex related. I want something meaningful too, not just mindless fucking.”
“You really think we can do this?” Oswald smiles brightly and nods enthusiastically, turning back to Jim. “How do you propose we ask him?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps we should just tell him what we’ve decided and if he wants to join, he can. If not, I get you all to myself.”
“I like that. Over breakfast?”
“I owe you for taking me in. Why not dinner? My treat. I’ll pick somewhere simple yet classy and we'll break the news to him there.”
“Won’t he be on high alert in public? You were just kidnapped, not to mention he’s injured badly.”
“I suppose you’re right. Look at us two, planning a date already.”
“What does Victor like anyways?” Jim asks as he glances back at the door, hoping Victor isn’t on the other side listening in.
“Food. Loud music. Guns. Are you trying to buy his affection?” Oswald snuggles down into the couch, yanking the blanket on the backrest over him. He lets Jim tuck him in.
“I do need to apologise for that fight. Does he like pizza?” At that, Oswald snorts and nods frantically. “Good. Pizza night then!”
“Sounds like a deal. I hate to cut the night short but I’m feeling quite tired. I’m claiming the couch for tonight.”
“What about me?”
“Go bond with Victor. He could use a hug after the day he’s had.” Oswald smiles wickedly and pulls the blanket tighter.
“Alright. Goodnight, Oswald. Sleep well.” Jim plants a quick kiss on the man’s cheek and ruffles his hair before switching off the overhead lights. He glances back at Oswald before entering his room at last.
Victor is still slumped across the bed messily, limbs thrown about. The alarm clock glows on his bedside. 22.21pm. It’s earlier than Jim would ever climb into bed and without a belly full of whiskey like usual, he approaches his bed more tentatively.
His room doesn’t even feel like his own anymore. Although it’s only been a few days, Jim’s mind reacts as if he was gone for months.
There’s not much of a mess. Two open bags occupy a corner, and both Victor’s and Oswald’s boots are neatly set by the door; toes against the white skirting board.
Even the dirty clothes are gone, leaving the room in a strange, domestic mess. It should shock Jim just how he accepts this with a shrug, but there’s no point fighting something he admittedly enjoys.
His shirt remains on him despite the warmth of the room. He doesn’t want Victor to freak out and risk upsetting the younger man even further.
The sheets are blissfully cool when Jim finally slips underneath them. Sleeping next to somebody isn’t something he’s done for a while but the soft, even breathing and occasional shuffle of sleepy limbs helps Jim calm down. He would have thought it would be difficult to shut his eyes and drift away but Jim sticks to his side and Victor doesn’t crawl closer in search of heat or companionship.
Jim tightens his grip on the cover and tugs it closer over his shoulder. He turns away from Victor, and gazes out of the window until his eyes shut and he drifts off.
His alarm bleeps noisily in the pale room as the sun lazily starts to shine through the wooden blinds. Jim groans and twists to reach over but a heavy smack silences the poor machine before he can even shuffle closer.
A soft sigh whispers next to his head and Jim remembers where he is and who likely destroyed his clock in drowsy anger.
His eyes flutter open and he settles his gaze on Victor. The cold, pink light casts heavy shadows in all the defined areas. Victor’s neck appears longer and his jaw even more pronounced. His pale lips part and another exhale escapes quietly.
Without thinking, as is common occurrence with the detective, Jim raises a hand and traces the sharp bone with his thumb.
Victor is suddenly wide awake and his hand snatches Jim’s firmly, pulling the offending digit away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Victor demands sharply.
“Wanted to touch you. You’re so relaxed in your sleep.”
“Was relaxed.” Victor sighs loudly and throws Jim’s hand away as if the mere contact burns his skin.
He rips the covers away and stands abruptly. His leg threatens to collapse but he bites down on the pain and ignores his body’s warnings.
“I’m sorry for what happened, Victor. I never should have hit you. I was mad and I wasn’t thinking straight-“
“What am I wearing?” The hitman interrupts unsurely, his voice raising slightly as he pulls at the t-shirt and observes it with concern.
“My old stuff. It was Oswald’s idea.”
“Right...” Victor continues to stare at it suspiciously.
His leg continues to protest so he sits down with his back to the cop.
“It suits you. Listen, there’s something you should know about Oswald and I.”
The mention of his boss tears Victor away from his fidgeting and he fixes his intense gaze on Jim.
“We kissed last night, a lot, and we agreed to give dating a try.”
“Good for you. At long last.” The encouraging words are spoken in a way that can only be described as choked. Victor turns away, head tilted downwards.
Jim dares to crawl up next to him, keeping some distance from the flighty hitman. He notices Victor has wrapped his arms around himself, clutching at the hems of the shirt in a white-knuckle grip.
“That’s not all but I promised Oswald we would tell you, together.”
“You’re not getting married, are you?” The hitman jokes, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Jim rejoices in the change of mood.
“Nope. Not there yet. Come on, I’ll make you some breakfast. Do you need my help walking?”
“Yeah.” Jim slips Victor’s arm around his shoulders and carries most of the assassin’s weight as they leave the room.
From the scent of fresh coffee, Jim knows Oswald put a pot on for him. He smiles, embracing the life he’s found himself tangled in.
They make it to the table and Victor sits down carefully, extending his injured leg to the side of the seat.
“Morning,” the detective greets Oswald with a kiss to his forehead and smiles at the blush that crawls across the kingpin's flustered face. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll fix up some breakfast. Eggs and bacon sound good?”
“Absolutely. Thank you, dear.” Oswald immediately panics, mouth gaping and eyes widening with something close to fear. “I’m sorry, Jim! Was that too much? I thou-“
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just not used to hearing that. Please, don’t stop. I like it, really.” Jim reassures, stroking Oswald’s cheek. He leans down for a brief kiss, realising how easy and right this all feels.
“Jeez, you weren’t kidding,” Victor chimes in at the sight.
He leans forward in his chair, resting on his elbows and entwining his fingers together under his chin. A lascivious grin splits across his face and it only grows wider when Oswald pulls away and gazes directly at him, lips still tingling.
“We only started last night. Just... kissing,” Oswald stammers, grabbing his mug of tea and sipping quietly.
“Of course, boss. Just kissing. For now.”
Full plates are placed down in front on Oswald and his personal assassin, and the kingpin even waits until Jim has seated himself to begin. He casts a glance at Victor, smirking at the sight of the wolfish expression as he shovels his food down impatiently.
“Enjoy,” Jim says as he starts as well. He receives two muffled compliments and smiles at the idea to get up earlier than usual to spend more time with his boys. The thought makes him chuckle out of nowhere and he doesn't miss the odd looks.
“Victor,” Oswald begins once the dishes are stacked away in the sink. “Jim and I were talking last night about everything that has happened. He repeated what you told me and admitted his feelings for both of us, and I thank you for your honesty in sharing that with me.”
Victor nods with interest, not entirely sure where his boss is going with this but not dismissing him either.
“I know I’m not good at showing my true feelings, but I want you to know that I truly care for you, Victor. You’ve been through so much with me and I want you to continue to stay by my side, but not just as my friend. Jim and I have both decided to invite you into our relationship. You would be an equal partner in everything and if I’m being entirely honest, it would give me a reason to finally kiss you.” Oswald finishes his elegant speech with a genuine smile and leans back with his tea firmly in his grasp.
He observes Victor’s processing calmly, each emotion flicking across his eyes for brief seconds before another takes its place.
“Well? What do you think, Victor? Wanna give it a go?” Jim asks when a response doesn’t escape the hitman and he grows tired of the awkward silence.
“So to simplify that really sweet speech, you want a threesome.” Victor deadpans, still not giving an answer.
“Yes. But not just in the bedroom. I want a real relationship with both of you. Jim cares for you, as do I.”
“So, what do you say?” Jim prompts further.
Victor smirks and says, “Sure. Why not? I’m in.” And then he leans in to capture Jim’s lips roughly and demandingly. Jim whimpers under the brutal kiss, trying his best to keep up with the killer's enthusiasm.
Eventually they part for air and Jim catches a glance at the clock.
“I need to get ready. We'll continue this after work.” Jim stands and head to his room for a shower and shave.
“Thanks boss. You know I would have been okay staying in the shadows.” Victor tilts his head and rubs at his tired eyes.
His entire body screams in pain but he shuts it down.
Oswald stares at him incredulously. “I didn’t do this because I thought you would be jealous. I really want you in this part of my life too. Not just work.”
“Thanks. I’m happy to be considered.”
“You don’t sound happy... Is something wrong?”
“I always thought you wanted to keep work and life apart. It’s why I never bothered to ask you out on a date.”
“You get the chance to now. Please give this a go. If it’s not right for you, we will go back to our previous arrangement. Deal?”
“Yes. Can I kiss you, boss?”
Oswald nods eagerly and scoots into the closest seat. Victor leans in, licking his lower lip to hide how nervous he actually feels, and presses his lips against Oswald’s softly.
With Jim, he wants it rough. Zsasz wants the stinging pain because they both deserve that.
But he wants to treat Oswald right and he does so by moving his mouth slowly, teasing his boss into letting go of all fear until he can place a hand on Oswald’s cheek and pull him closer. His thumb strokes the soft skin on his cheek, tracing the curve of the bone. The tips of his fingers play with the short strands, massaging into the flesh he can reach as he encourages Oswald to part his lips.
Zsasz cherishes the soft mewls his boss makes as he licks into his mouth and lets his tongue dance across Oswald’s own.
They share the intimate moment until Jim re-emerges from the bedroom with combed hair and a neat, yet boring suit. When they finally part, both are flustered and panting and Oswald glances up at Victor with wide, innocent eyes.
The hitman flicks his gaze to Jim momentarily. “I’ll take care of him.”
“I’m sure you will,” Jim smirks and bids his goodbyes before disappearing out of the front door. Once he is out of sight, Victor returns to his task of worshipping Oswald’s mouth with drawn-out kisses.