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Newlywed Blues

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Evading the press mob as they exited the courthouse was easier than it might have been without Jim to escort them, although he got his revenge. His tight-lipped expression as Valerie Vale shoved a microphone in his face spoke volumes, and Edward was too distracted to hear what he said.

Oswald smirked as Edward opened the limousine door for him. “There's some history, isn't there?”

“Not even a secret,” Edward confirmed, climbing in after him. “Everyone around the precinct knew. It was during his bounty-hunter phase—which, actually, suited him pretty well.”

“Just think if we'd had him on our side,” Oswald said, signaling for Caroline to close the door behind them. “Properly on our side. Jim Gordon, one of Gotham's most formidable—”

“You guys might wanna split,” Jim said, elbowing Caroline aside to stick his head inside the limo. “Ms. Vale can be persuasive when she puts her mind to it. I told her congrats are in order.”

Edward squashed the desire to plunge his switchblade into Jim's neck down as far as it would go.

“Being a witness doesn't give you carte blanche to tell the media,” he snapped. “Run along, Jimbo.”

Valerie popped her head in next to Jim's, beaming at them. “That's so cute! Any honeymoon plans?”

Just as Oswald twisted the head of his cane, ready to deploy his blade without restraint, Caroline yanked Jim aside. She flipped back her jacket to show Valerie the gun at her hip.

“I ain't gonna threaten a cop, but it'd be a shame if I had to use this,” Caroline warned. “Truly.”

Valerie lowered her microphone and raised her free hand, palms out, backing away. “Understood.”

While Caroline drove above the speed limit the whole way home, ranting to Vee in the front seat about how she was not okay with their past showing up to haunt them like that in public, Edward picked up where they'd left off in the Register and Recorder's office. Kissing Oswald meant something now, meant far more than it had meant even on their first night together.

“We shouldn't,” Oswald mumbled, but made no move to stop kissing Edward back, “not too much.”

“Vale asked about honeymoon plans,” Edward replied, nipping Oswald's lower lip. “I do have some.”

“We don't have to do anything else for the rest of the day,” Oswald said impatiently. “Except that.”

“I mean, we don't have to do that in the strictest terms of that, given last night was hard on your leg,” Edward backtracked anxiously. “I don't care what we do as long as we're alone and—” he lowered his voice, realizing the chatter beyond the barrier had gone silent “—and naked, and—”

Shhh,” Oswald hissed, setting his fingers against Edward's lips, eyes crinkling fondly. “Ed, yes.”

“It's kind of a—a tradition, is all,” Edward insisted petulantly, kissing Oswald's fingertips. “Isn't it?”

“If you ask me, we did things out of order,” Oswald said, amused. “We got the whole awkward losing-our-virginity thing out of the way first.”

“It wasn't awkward,” Edward said, closing his eyes as Oswald rested his head against Edward's shoulder. “It was perfect under the circumstances. It was meaningful.”

“My love, don't get worked up,” Oswald said softly. “It's only a figure of speech. Of course it was.”

Edward nodded, holding him tightly, and neither one of them said another word for the rest of the ride.

On their arrival at the mansion, Olga was waiting just inside the door with her coat on and handbag primly clutched in both hands. She took one look at them and sniffed.

“So you get married after resignation,” she said, enunciating resignation with care to show that she had learned and assimilated it, “and do not tell me. That Vale woman on television says.”

“As much as I would have liked you to witness,” said Edward, testily, “we needed you here at the house.”

“For what it's worth, I didn't know we were getting married,” Oswald volunteered, shrugging out of his jacket. “Edward just...sprang it on me. Like he does. Not that I'm complaining.”

“Well, I am complaining,” Olga replied curtly, side-stepping them to re-open the door. “I take day off. Table is clean, is borscht in fridge you can heat later. Fresh bread in box. I go home and read.”

They stood in the resounding silence once she'd closed the door, Oswald unable to stifle his laughter and Edward unintentionally letting his jacket crumple to the floor. He studied their surroundings—the vast, shadowy entrance hall, the staircase rising above them—and understood how Oswald must have felt when he entered with the knowledge that he held legal, hereditary stake.

“It feels different now,” Edward said, struggling to articulate the sentiment, “being here after.”

“Returning to your queen metaphor,” Oswald said, taking his hand with a formal bow, “now you are.”

“I wish I could have known your father,” Edward said, still somber. “I want to thank him for this.”

“My father insisted this house was haunted,” Oswald said, tugging Edward in the direction of the stairs. “Maybe sometime you'll get the chance.”

Not wanting to think about ghosts, which were too close to hallucinations and not real besides, Edward followed Oswald and didn't stop until they'd reached the bedroom. The bed was freshly made, which couldn't have been a pleasant task given what they'd done the previous evening.

Oswald turned down the covers and maneuvered Edward until he got the message and sat on the edge of the mattress. Then, he took a step back and removed his cufflinks in two swift movements, setting them aside on the nightstand. He loosened his tie like he expected Edward to watch, so Edward gave every gesture and shed piece of fabric his utmost attention.

“I like undressing for you more than I like dressing for you,” Oswald confessed. “What do you think of that?”

“I think you like having an unfair advantage,” Edward said, astonished to find that he was choked up.

“Oh, darling,” Oswald said, hurriedly shedding the rest of his clothing without any further ceremony. “Sweetheart, no,” he went on, kissing Edward gently on the lips before helping Edward out of his suit without so much as asking him to stand. “Is that better?” he asked, remaining on his knees, one of Edward's sock garters still wrapped around his hand.

“I didn't mean advantage as in you undressing and me not,” Edward hiccuped. “I meant your looks.”

Oswald's expression softened further. He tossed the garter aside and set his hands on Edward's thighs, leaning forward to nuzzle Edward's belly. He kissed his way across Edward's abdomen to one hipbone, and then the other, somehow avoiding Edward's erection until the last second.

“You are everything I want,” he insisted, resting his cheek there, as he was so curiously fond of doing.

Even at the slight brush of Oswald's face against his over-sensitized flesh, Edward couldn't stay silent.

“I need you so much,” he gasped, voice cracking as Oswald parted his lips. “I couldn't risk not—”

“Edward, I said I do,” Oswald reminded him, getting on with what he had so brazenly started.

It was as if Oswald had been starved for someone to suck and stroke and lavish with kisses. The generosity of his attention was obscenely attractive, dark lashes stark against his cheekbones as he swallowed around Edward and eased off to breathe.

“How are you even real,” Edward moaned, clenching and unclenching his fist against Oswald's skull.

“You taste good,” Oswald whispered, eyelids fluttering open, leaving faint mascara-tracks that Edward wanted to wipe away. As if sensing Edward’s distraction, he tugged Edward’s hands down from where they were tangled in his hair and set them on his cheeks. “Are you close?”

Edward nodded, his breathing too labored for speech. He tried to hum in agreement, but the sound he made was clipped and desperate. He smudged the mascara-tracks ineffectually with his thumbs as Oswald pressed a kiss to the tip of him.

“I want you to come in my mouth this time,” Oswald said between one kiss and the next, glancing up at Edward through his lashes. “Would you like to do that?”

Edward tried to prevent himself from jerking forward into Oswald's mouth, but it was a futile impulse.

“What I want and—and what's considered proper,” he panted, “are usually two very different things.”

Oswald made an exasperated noise, pulling off with a sloppy huff. “It’s fine for a gentleman to ask that of his husband,” he said. “What matters to me is whether or not you want to.”

“And it’s fine for a gentleman to...do that for his husband, I guess,” Edward faltered, sliding his fingers feverishly back into Oswald’s damp hair. “Oswald, I’ve heard it’s not...it’ll be...”

“I’ve already gotten a sample,” replied Oswald, pointedly, lapping at skin that was wet with more than just his spit. “I think it’ll be fine.”

Edward tensed, overcome by the sensation of Oswald licking lazily, repeatedly into his slit. The feel of Oswald’s left hand wrapped tightly around the base of his cock grounded him, but it was the dip of Oswald’s right thumb beneath his balls, the sudden press just there, that undid him.

Oswald faltered in surprise, but the speed of his recovery was startling. He closed his lips around Edward and swallowed, coaxing Edward through the next swift pulse into blissful oblivion.

As unaware of their surroundings as orgasm rendered him, as badly as his hands were shaking, Edward didn’t stop running his fingers through Oswald’s hair. He couldn’t, not after such a show of devotion, but Oswald disengaged his touch and made him scoot fully onto the bed.

“It’s your wedding day, too, “ he said with effort, flopping on his back, watching Oswald finish wiping his mouth and toss his handkerchief off the bed. “What do you want?”

“This,” Oswald said, shifting so that he could straddle Edward and lean down easily into a kiss. The taste of himself on Oswald’s lips was thrilling, and, against his belly, Oswald was achingly hard.

“I like kissing you when you come,” Edward mumbled, pressing them chest to chest. He flattened both palms against Oswald’s spine as he pushed up against him, quick to remember what Oswald liked.

Oswald trembled, falling almost completely still in Edward’s arms, but didn’t stop kissing him. It lasted a while, residual twitches and whimpers even after Edward rolled him over into the pillows.

After a few minutes, Oswald buried his face against Edward’s shoulder and laughed, “You can’t say something like that and not expect...”

“Oh,” Edward replied, so happy he couldn’t find words, so he used Oswald’s instead. “I did expect.”

Oswald’s smile against his skin felt like a promise. The day was still young, and night yet to follow.