Jonathan Crane was asleep.
He had been sleeping since around 3 AM that morning to well into midday, and Edward Nygma was tired of waiting.
Prodding the taller man did nothing to wake him, neither did stealing the blankets, shaking him, and eventually calling his name repeatedly. At this point, Edward was half sure Jonathan was sleeping out of pure spite.
He could only lay there and watch the man's skeletal frame rise and fall steadily for so long, and Edward was practically buzzing with the boredom of sitting still. So at exactly 12:16 pm, Edward left Jonathan Crane's bedroom in a hunt for something to do. For a brief moment, he fantasized cooking Jonathan breakfast in bed, a sort of taste of domestic simplicity that neither man was accustomed to.
The fantasy betrayed him as soon as he stepped foot into Jonathan's kitchen.
The floor was crusted with every manner of crumb and stain that inhabited the known universe, and probably a few more besides. The counter and sink were piled near ceiling high with dirty dishes, and Edward could see a roach, a literal roach skittering across the sink. Gagging, he reflexively took a few steps back.
Though Jonathan probably wouldn't appreciate his interference, there was no way in hell Edward would allow his on and off lover to keep such a disgusting kitchen. Unfortunately, to even begin exterminating the roaches, Edward needed a few tools, namely a very strong exterminator and bleach, that Jonathan didn't seem to keep in his kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, or any other part of the cramped apartment. Jonathan probably kept a number of chemical compounds that could kill any bacteria in his laboratory, but Edward wasn't fool enough to venture there. So eventually, after what came close to an hour long search, Edward was forced to concede that he would be taking a trip to the grocery store this morning. With a sigh, he grabbed his jacket and shoes and cranked open Jonathan's front door. Behind him, someone cleared their throat.
"Leavin' already?" Jonathan asked. He had seemingly crept silently out of his bedroom and was now standing a few feet behind Edward, wearing only a worn pair of boxers.
Edward chuckled. "Only stepping out for a can of roach spray and some bleach for your...frankly abhorrent kitchen. Don't worry, I'll be back to grace my beautiful scarecrow with my presence soon enough."
Jonathan's expression had shifted while he was speaking, lines around his mouth growing somewhat more tight with disbelief. "Ah. Don't let me stop your walk of shame."
Edward closed the door behind him. "Don't be like that." he scoffed. "I wouldn't willingly walk out on a man with such good stamina as you displayed last night." he teased gently.
Jonathan turned away, expression unreadable. A psychology degree and years of practice as a doctor and career criminal had given Crane almost complete mastery of his poker face, but his posture could be easier to read. Specifically, turning around to leave the room in the middle of a conversation.
"Jonathan." Edward said. "I wasn't going to just leave." Jonathan ignored this, choosing to walk back into his bedroom in dignified silence. Edward followed him, stalling at the doorway as he tried to think of what to say.
"I think of you as more than a good lay, Professor Crane." he began, after a moment's hesitation. Jonathan was still facing away, pulling on a t-shirt as he ignored Edward's somewhat pompous speech. "I would never degrade myself to form such an attachment to someone who is unable to almost match my intelligence, Jonathan."
Jonathan smirked now, finally facing Edward again. "Seems like our 'attachment' didn't do anything to puncture that ego of yours, Edward."
Edward rolled his eyes, despite his internal relief. "I'm allowed to feel superior to a man with as many dirty dishes as you."