Finals are coming up, and then it's Christmas break! Also, Gotham returns on my birthday, that's the best news I've received since it ended!
Thanks to March Glen, IsabelleBrown, MugglebornPrincesa, Erik-is-my-angel1234, 5daysofsummer, celticank, teka0456, shugochara119, ohyourlipsaredelicous, GoEastJane, ravenwritingdesks, Maiden of the Heavens, Starlindon and Guests for reviewing!
Disclaimer: I own only the OC's and the AU plot devices you don't recognize.
Oswald lied awake for what felt like hours, watching Rosalie with unblinking eyes. She was his pillow, and he quite enjoyed the softness of her chest for a place to rest his head down on. The scent of her floral perfume was sweet and tangy on his lips as he placed a kiss upon her skin occasionally. At some time in the night he had drifted off to sleep, warm and satisfied now that he had taken his lover in the bed of his adversary. There was no greater insult than to steal something precious from a man right on his own turf.
She was his now, Rosy was his! He loved her, and he knew she loved him too, for it was in her touch, the sounds she had made and the way she had felt around him. He longed to be welcomed into her body again, but she would need to recover first from their tender bruising affair. The stagnant air of her apartment was thick with sin and romance, and Oswald hoped it would embed itself in the walls for a life age to come.
When he awoke again, it was early morning and Rosalie had crawled her way out from under him, shrugging on her robe at the edge of the bed. Oswald reached over with his arm, wrapping his hand around her wrist. She jolted from surprise.
"You're awake!" She exclaimed breathlessly, smiling shyly once she looked back over her shoulder at him.
"Where are you going?" He rolled closer in the sheets until he snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her back on the bed with him. She let out a shrill laugh as he kissed her neck.
"Stay."
She tilted her chin down until her lips brushed his in a dry morning kiss. "I wanted to freshen up. You can come join me."
The idea of steaming water and a naked Rosalie was too tantalizing to pass up, and he was not too humble to admit that. He followed her out of the soiled sheets, the cool striking him as he followed behind her in nothing but his skin. The fact didn't bother him as he was quite comfortable with Rosalie's gaze on him, craved it even.
She leaned over the tub to twist the tap, warm water frothing as it hit the porcelain floor with the plugged drain. He took a step forward and brought his arms around her waist to the tie of the robe in the front. Their reflections were visible in the mirror, and Oswald could almost pretend that last night had been their first together...almost.
"May I disrobe you?" He asked softly, brushing her hair over her one shoulder to expose her smooth neck.
"Hmm, yes you're very good at that." Her hands covered his own and they pulled the knot free to expose her nude front. The silk robe fell at their feet between them before they slipped into the water together in the large tub. Rosalie's hair was long enough that the tips touched the surface of the water, fanning out around her like sunrays. Her pink nipples were at level with the water as well, and he had the desire to lick the beads of liquid from her two soft peaks. She flushed from the heated stare he gave her, and he changed into a red hue at being caught.
"Come here, I'll wash your back for you," She offered, her arm extending towards a dove white bar of soap. The water sloshed about as he obeyed her command, waiting for the feel of her slippery fingers on his skin. He loved bathing, and it was something special with Rosalie. The steam rising around them caused his hair to plaster to his forehead, though he might have been sweating with anticipation for her touch. And he was right to be, because it was glory!
"Not so tense now?" She inquired as her hands trailed around his scapula and down the ridges of his spine. Her legs were on either side of his waist, and she pulled her chest up against his back until the swells of her breasts were pressed snuggly to his body. "What if I do this?"
He whimpered as her hands went over his stomach with the bar of soap, in circles like two ice dancers. "Rosy..?"
She shushed him, nipping at his ear as her chin rested on his shoulder. "Can I touch something else?"
Her right hand disappeared under the water, and he grunted his compliance as she handled his cock as it transformed from halfway flaccid to full attention. The sensation was different this time, underwater and with no latex barrier between them. Of course he had worn one the other time with the other woman as well, but he still felt dirty regardless of the precautions. This was real, his first experience with a woman touching him bare and natural, and he leaned back into her with a strangled grasp. She chuckled softly into his neck as she continued with her toying, switching from fondling his sack to brushing her thumb over the head of his length. Her tongue scorched the skin of his neck as she pecked open mouth kisses in a pattern, and he thought he would faint from overheating. With one firm squeeze on his cock he came, spurting onto his stomach and into the water while she cradled him. So much for staying clean.
"Good morning," She said into his ear with a smile, and he was sure he returned it with a half lidded one of his own.
He made tiny splashes with his hands in water, lazing about while basking in her company. "I love you." He said quietly, wanting for the acknowledgement this time.
There was a pause, and he felt her hands slide down across his arms. "Did you say that to me before?"
"You heard?!" He sat forward with abrupt glee, turning around in the water to face her head on. Her expression was a little more serious, and his gut tightened with fear.
"Oswald, we have to talk about that," She sat up as well, edging towards him.
"Why?" His voice shook anxiously, and he frowned in anger.
"You...you don't really know me all that well." Her back was pressed into the porcelain and he hovered over her with his arms trapping her on either side. "It's madness!"
"You call it madness, but I call it love." He brushed his lips lightly against hers and felt at her breast to which she consciously leaned into his touch. She seemed to tremble before him, little ripples traveling in the bath water like tremors from an earthquake. Her phone was ringing in the background of her apartment, screaming loudly until falling dead to their deaf ears.
"Oswald," She breathed, breaking the kiss with a hand to his chest. Her nails scraped lightly on his flesh, tearing at him for the drum that dully thumped in his center. His heart raced for the sound of his name.
"Does my honesty make you uncomfortable?"
"Maybe...just a bit."
"It's alright," He smiled suddenly, tilting his head slightly with a calculated look. "You can tell me when you're ready. I won't rush you, I promise."
Her frown led him to believe she didn't find his offer so charming or benevolent, and she didn't speak again as they settled in the water. His hand never drifted from her waist, and he quietly returned the favor of washing her body with the soap. Her silence was agonizing, and her skin prickled under his hands as he stroked with the soap, despite the warmth of the water.
"Rosy, are you mad at me?" He dropped the soap into the water with a 'plop' and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her back to his chest.
"No I'm not mad, I'm just confused," She tilted her neck back to gaze up at him. "But I'm glad you're here with me."
He combed his hand back through her hair and smiled. Both of them were beginning to prune from the water, and a chill replaced the heat that they had started with. She uncapped the drain and the water slowly dissipated from the tub. He gave her his hand as she stepped out first, admiring the shape of her body and the way the light reflected on her damp skin. His gaze might have lingered too long, because she soon shielded herself in a terrycloth robe before handing him a fresh towel. Her playful side reared again when she stood up on her toes beside him and pulled her fingers through his damp hair, causing it stick up in spikes. The act made him feel young, and he blushed like a boy instead of the man who had taken her in her bed. The question of 'what next', came to mind, but there was a horrible interruption that made Oswald lose the color in his face steadfast.
"Oh God," Rosalie said as her head spun to the closed bathroom door. Someone was knocking at the main entrance to her apartment, and in all of the excitement of joy, they had forgotten about Dominic. "Stay here."
"But my clothing is all over your bedroom," He pointed out; hating that he chose that moment to be brusque.
"Then get dressed and stay silent. It might not be Dominic; he has a key so he shouldn't be knocking."
Rosalie's hair flowing behind her was the last sight he saw of her as she vanished from the bathroom and passed the bedroom without any regard before shutting the door. Oswald tiptoed quietly from the ensuite and into the bedroom where he tracked down his scattered apparel. He slung his trousers on quickly up his legs, and his shirt was halfway to being buttoned as he was stuck on where his other sock had ended up. It appeared to him as he finished righting his waistcoat, black and twisted up in the satin sheets was his sock. He took a moment, admiring those sheets which were so silky and welcoming, and he hated that he would be back in own starchy ones soon enough, without Rosy's body heat to stave off the persistent chill.
Aggressively he tugged back to liberate his sock from the mass of material, stumbling a bit as it revealed a small stain in the center of the sheet. He took a step closer, taking to his knee on the mattress as he lightly brushed his fingers over the red blot. It was dry to his touch, the remains of her innocence that she had given him in breathless moans and pained tears. He smiled coyly, wanting to take the sheet from the bed and display it like a flag for all to see. The chambermaids of history used to gush over this sort of thing, when a fresh queen was deflowered; only he was the king who had conquered this time.
The door snapping shut in the other room alerted him to another presence in the apartment, and he abandoned his fantasizing as he stepped into his other sock, shuffling across the room in stocking covered feet as he pressed his ear up to the bedroom door.
"Mom, hi!" Rosy exclaimed with an overzealous amount of cheer.
"Hello, how are you darling?" The voice was light and caring in only the way a mother's could be. She sounded pleasant enough. Oswald's nose was sampling the scent of wood on the door as he so desperately clung to it, wanting to be on the other side and not the secret in the shadows.
"I'm alright mom, why?"
"Well I had phoned before coming over here, but you never answered my call."
"I was showering." Rosalie excused.
"And I asked your doorman Ralphie if you were here. He said you hadn't left all night, and that you had company who never left either."
That scum Ralphie, he had done that on purpose as retaliation for his ruined eye. Oswald let his hands clench in anger at his sides, while the rest of his body tensed and strained to hear what Rosy would say.
"Yes, I had a friend come home with me after we were nearly mugged on the street. I was scared to be alone, so Oswald offered to stay."
"My God Ro, are you alright?" Her mother's voice had risen with concern, and Oswald presumed the lapse in silence was for them sharing in an embrace.
"I'm fine, we're both fine."
"Where's this friend now?" There was a flinty streak of curiosity in her tone, and the doubts of a mother who had written off the idea of anything platonic going on.
"Freshening up. I'll go fetch him, if you just want to wait here and take a seat."
Her footsteps drew nearer, and Oswald just managed to jump back from the door before he would have caught a mouthful of wood. She shut it quickly behind her before giving him a searching look.
"So I assume you heard most of that," She stated with that fierce look on her face that made him want to kiss her with urgency. "My mother's here for a visit, and you're going to have to meet her."
"I expected nothing less," He remarked confidently, to which she responded with a small frown.
"You're taking this rather well."
Of course, but what she didn't understand was his elation at the opportunity to charm one of the most important figures in her life. It was a power play; one he had full intentions of winning. This would be his first time being introduced to a woman's parent, and he would have thought himself to be more nervous than he really felt.
"I promise I will leave a lasting impression."
"Not without a tie." She reached for the thin strip of green felt and held it up to secure under his collar. This was a dream for him, her fixing his tie, and he wanted to experience it every morning. "There we are, good as new."
"If you think so," He replied cheekily.
She gave him one last scolding look before exiting the bedroom with him in tow. Her mother immediately perked up to their arrival, and Oswald was oddly surprised that Rosalie did not share many features with the woman seated adjacent to him on the sofa. The matriarch didn't have the same toasted olive skin that her daughter was colored in, and her short hair was a fair shade of yellow to Rosalie's caramel locks. She was more generous in hips, as any mother should be, and from what he could tell she was short in stature. Their facial features were similar however, with the same hazel eyes and button nose. While Oswald had noticed all of that, he was certain the woman had picked up a few things about him as well.
"Hello," She spoke with a forced smile, though it wasn't tight lipped with animosity.
"It is a genuine pleasure to make your acquaintance ma'am."
"Mom, this is Oswald. He's a friend, and he's been keeping me company this week," Rosalie explained. Much to his chagrin, he cringed at the use of the word 'friend' in her presence, and it did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Scangarelo.
"I hope my daughter hasn't been too much trouble for you Oswald," She said with a tactful look at Rosalie.
"Mom!"
"No, not at all. I've been enlightened by the experience." He beamed a smile, all because of Rosalie.
He must have used the right combination of words, because Mrs. Scangarelo's expression softened towards him before she looked at her daughter expectantly. "Ro, can I have a word with you for a moment, it's about your Uncle."
A lie. They all knew that too, but Rosalie respectfully stepped into the kitchen with her mother, leaving him to awkwardly fidget in the living room. The television was still paused on the film where they had abandoned it the previous night, and Oswald couldn't bring himself to continue without Rosy.
He took a stiff seat on the sofa, the cushions not as welcoming in the daylight as they had been with Rosalie's legs wrapped around him in the twilight. He shifted constantly while waiting for the ladies to return. He wanted to know what was being said, but there was no way for him to listen in on that conversation without getting caught in the act. Undoubtedly it was about him, but to what purpose?
"Shall we sit down for some breakfast?" Mrs. Scangarelo came waltzing back into the living room with a lively look, though Rosalie was much more quieted.
"That would be lovely." Oswald consented, smiling towards Rosalie in an effort to raise her spirits.
"I'll make you eggs and toast. You two have a seat, I'm better in the kitchen," Mrs. Scangarelo said while she ushered them to the small breakfast nook in front of the window. "Cream and sugar in your coffee Oswald?"
"Just cream thank you," He replied politely while he pulled out a chair for Rosalie beside him.
They sat quietly, the sounds of her mother puttering around the kitchen loud in the background as she dug through pans for a skillet. Oswald studied Rosalie carefully; her silence bothering him when he knew something dire had been said. He tried to get her attention, even calling her name softly, but she kept her head down, and it remained that way through the entirety of the breakfast. He shared more conversation with her mother about his work at the club, nothing titillating coming up unsuspectingly there because of who her husband had been. Oswald knew about Rosalie's father since before knowing her, and that he had died in prison from cancer. He'd gone to jail because he had refused to become a rat; leaving his wife and daughter for iron bars in the name of loyalty. It seemed absurd to abandon that which you loved most, but then Oswald was very careful about keeping what he loved separate from his business.
After finishing his scrambled eggs and buttered toast, they switched to lighter conversation over coffee. Rosalie piped up now and again with her opinion, but would quickly fall mute to her own thoughts after he would glance her way.
"Breakfast was lovely mom," Rosalie stated as she rose to clear the plates from the table.
"Do you need help with anything?" Her mother offered.
"No, I've got it."
With Rosalie gone to put away the dirty dishes, it left Oswald alone with Mrs. Scangarelo. She smiled at him, looking curious with some scrutiny his way. "You are from Gotham Oswald?"
"Yes ma'am, I grew up here. It's just me and my mother, and I make sure she is well looked after."
"A boy who is attentive to his mother, that's so sweet." She cooed in return with an impressed smile. "She must be proud of you, and the work you're doing."
More like his job would give her nightmares that would aid in her fear of sleep paralysis. "She worries."
"And my Rosalie, she worries for you too."
He swallowed thickly at the ascension of her perfect golden brow. "Ma'am?"
"Oh sweetie," She clucked her tongue, but her tone was not spoken with condescension. "Your mother would be able to see clearly what is going on here, as do I. Being close with Ro is dangerous though, and it would be unwise for both of you if it were to go any further into tomorrow."
"We're just friends." He said evenly, the light and cheer leaving his eyes as he spoke.
Her demeanor hardened. "Be certain it stays that way."
He sat stiff in his chair, sucking through his teeth to keep from lashing out at the woman. It wasn't so much her request that angered him, but more that her warning was irrefutably true. Dominic was in the way of his future, keeping Rosalie from him. It was quite possible that he could steal her out from under him, but the issue needed to be eradicated all together. The fiancé needed to go.
"Do you want more coffee mom?" Rosalie asked, popping out from the kitchen.
"No, actually I need to be leaving. I'm having lunch with Jeannie at the Plaza, and we're getting our nails done right after that."
"Oh, I'll let you out then," Rosalie said with some surprise as she followed her mother to the door.
Oswald watched from his periphery as they spoke in hushed tones. He felt like a separate entity from them; Mrs. Scangarelo slipping into a fur-lined coat while Rosy looked like his own Venus in just a bathrobe. It was difficult to focus through his quiet rage, and he breathed heavily through his nose, staring at the cup of coffee that had long since lost its heat. Not even the deep sound of the door closing on her mother's way out was enough to knock him from his reverie.
"Oswald?" Rosalie called tentatively as she returned to her seat beside him at the table.
"What did she say to you?" He asked harshly.
His waspish tone caused her to look surprised. "More like what did she say to you?"
He sighed and shook his head bitterly, ridding himself of the thoughts for now. "I choose to be exempt from her advice, so it matters little."
"You can't just absolve yourself of whatever she said." Rosalie leaned forward more in her chair as she reached for his hand across the table. He gladly took it. The warmth helped him to feel better.
"I've become skilled in ignoring words that don't please me," He said while tugging her up out of her seat, tapping at his lap with his other hand to indicate for her to sit down. She did so hesitantly, but he didn't notice any fear so he ignored any other mild discomforts it might have caused her just so he could have her close.
"The world doesn't work that way Oswald," She said quietly, resting her head down on his shoulder as they remained at the table.
"My new world will," He refuted as he thought about his plans for the future. "This city will be ours one day Rosy."
And they would never have to answer to anyone again. They would be free to be together. Looking out her window at the skyline of Gotham, he only saw the potential to grow, and the seeds were in his hand, waiting to be planted and showered upon. He would continue to fight against the disused and inane of Gotham, hating anything that was idle in his would be Empire. It began with his fingers creeping beneath her robe, feeling the softness of his Rosalie one more time.
Hmm so what do you think this all means? There isn't much room for fluff in Gotham, and I've shifted the tone pretty quickly. We'll see from Rosalie's POV next chapter, about what her mother told her and what she feels for Oswald now. I did have plans to get Mrs. Cobblepot into this chapter, but things went on a little longer at Rosy's apartment, so that will be next chapter ;)
