Chapter Text
Edward stood beside the motionless man who was stretched out across his couch. Only Jonathan's back was exposed, his front pressed against the comfortable fabric as he lounged, and Edward's gaze was drawn immediately to the observable cushion as he sought out any questionable staining.
His mind was swimming with questions, some more crude than others, but he settled on asking the one which was most relevant to his interests.
“Why are you shirtless?”
Not that he was necessarily complaining, but walking into his living room to find Jonathan completely naked from the waist up was not exactly a regular occurrence in their daily lives. Jonathan typically was not fond of displaying his incredibly lean frame in any type of non-sexual situation and Edward racked his brain as he attempted to recall the last time, if ever, he had found Jonathan willingly walking around topless. However, he was quick to give up as no memory came to him.
Turning at he was spoken to, Jonathan's face was twisted into a sour expression; the deep lines marring his face matching the dips and divots of his upper back as he contorted in position.
“I have an adult photographer coming out soon to help me complete a portfolio,” Jonathan replied without missing a beat, his tone deadpan, “I have been thinking of branching out and creating a villain-themed calendar for the masses. Something truly frightening."
Jonathan sighed deeply before continuing.
"Why do you think I am shirtless, Edward? It's far too warm in this apartment and you've rigged the thermostat to only respond to your genetic code.” He frowned as he held his head up so he could give Edward full eye contact.
“I'll go turn it down in a minute.” Edward conceded, “Maybe I should do something about adding your DNA to the thermostat. I feel like four months is an adequate time for us to make such a important decision."
From his standing position, Edward could see the many scars which littered across Jonathan's back and shoulders. Some were very faint and small and Edward understood that these were the lingering marks caused by his sadistic great granny and her affinity for using the sharp claws of her crows to torture her young great grandson.
Human cruelty was something Edward understood very well and he had similar scars of his own to demonstrate how great that understanding was. However, Jonathan had many other scars and Edward found his eyes drawn to a particularly large, ragged, and much more recent-looking scar, the flesh raised and ugly as it sat on Jonathan's left shoulder blade.
This one was the talented work of Killer Croc, provided on that night he attacked Jonathan in the sewers of Arkham Asylum after the Joker staged a mass breakout for them all. It had cost Edward a hefty sum of money to fix up the damage which Waylon had done to Jonathan after the latter had washed up on the shores of Gotham Bay, completely exhausted and barely alive. His survival was nothing short of a miracle but Edward doubted any divine intervention on behalf of Jonathan Crane.
He wasn't actually entirely sure how Jonathan and Waylon had resolved that particular issue and he was mulling it over when Jonathan spoke.
“Stop staring at me, Edward. I can feel your eyes on the back of my head.”
Jonathan kept his own eyes shut as he called Edward out, sensing that the other man was deep in thought as he examined his own impressive collection of scarred flesh. A sudden inhale caught in his throat as he felt Edward's soft hand slowly tracing along the scar that Croc had given him years previously.
“Go do something useful like make dinner or build a new way for me to administer toxin into my patients without compromising the purity of the mixture.” Jonathan continued.
“Don't be so insecure, Crane." Edward chided as he continued to stroke the raised flesh, “True, I am mentally and physically your superior, but that should not mean that you should feel shy. Are you looking for some reassurance, dear?”
Jonathan lifted his hand and flipped Edward the bird, causing him to chuckle softly.
Edward would be the first to admit that neither himself nor Jonathan were exactly the pinnacle of either human fitness or beauty but Edward had always found the other man quite attractive. Jonathan liked to pretend that he was a heartless and emotionless husk of a man but his one downfall were his eyes which Edward found to be intensely expressive and almost constantly shone with his a cold, wicked intent.
Being stuck under Jonathan's gaze for too long always made Edward shiver and he loved it. However, he was quick to blame those pesky masochistic tendencies he liked to deny for that particular enjoyment.
Edward shook his head to clear his thoughts and continued to speak, “Did Waylon ever apologise for attempting to turn you into his newest chew-toy down in the Asylum sewers?”
“Random question, but yes. We came to an arrangement after I had healed fully from the surgeries you so generously arranged for me. In exchange for my deceasing any attempt at revenge, Waylon offered to help me out and act as my 'muscle' for one or two small projects and I accepted his offer.”
Jonathan turned his head to the side so that Edward could hear him more clearly.
“But since then we have barely had any interactions outside of those times where we are both incarcerated at the Asylum. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I was just curious.” Edward shrugged. “Knowledge is power and I like to know things.”
“Really? Why have I never noticed that particular facet of your personality before?" Jonathan drawled, "Someone should alert the presses.”
“Don't try to be funny. It's not your style.”
Jonathan jumped off the couch suddenly and Edward flinched involuntarily. While the months since the incident in the basement were riddled with very little aggression, going as far as to approach a relative normality, Edward still displayed the occasional sign of nervousness around the scientist that both were quick to ignore.
Pretending not to have noticed the flinch, Jonathan felt his stomach tighten slightly as he pulled his shirt back on and sat on the couch in a normal fashion.
“How's the abdomen?”
He kept his voice as even as possible as he finished buttoning the shirt up. They didn't talk about the incident in the basement very often but Jonathan liked to keep small tabs on how Edward's recovery was coming along.
At this point the only lasting issue seemed to be the scalpel damage done to Edward's stomach and that was mostly because he had accidentally torn his stitches out more than once even after being told to keep his physical activity to a minimum.
“Much better actually," Edward confessed, "I don't really see myself doing any serious yoga in the near future but I imagine it will be fully healed within a few weeks if i continue with my physio routine and can prevent myself from disturbing the stitches again.”
Moving forward, he lay on the couch next to Jonathan and placed his feet on his lap.
“So, I will continue to use it as an excuse to not do any serious physical activity. I am enjoying my small break from criminality and it's given me time to get some serious planning done for future projects."
Sensing an opportunity, Jonathan spoke quickly.
“Speaking of which, I had a breakthrough in my research last night so I doubt I will be able to accompany you out at any point in the next few days.”
Jonathan pushed Edward's feet off his lap and inspected the ragged edged of his nails as he mentally prepared for the barrage which he knew was about to be thrown his way as he continued.
“Can we reschedule for next week? Or the week after that?”
Head twisting around in outrage, Edward was not a happy man.
"You promised me that we could do something together this week since I have successfully prevented my stitches from tearing open for over ten days. I have been trapped in this damn apartment for over a week and no amount of nice stolen artwork is going to make me enjoy being cooped up here like a damn farm animal.”
“My work is important and the longer I delay further testing the more chance I have of this batch becoming a write-off. I simply cannot risk it.” Jonathan explained.
“Jonathan, your work can wait one night. It was you overworking on that bastard toxin that led to me being unable to leave the apartment in the first place.”
Deciding to attempt to guilt Jonathan into agreeing, Edward walked forward a little, as if to move closer, before stopping and clutched a hand to his stitches as if they were bothering him and taking a sharp inhale of breath.
“Do you know what? I will go myself. Consequences be damned.” Edward offered quietly and spun on his heel to face the opposite wall.
“If it will stop this absurd charade then I will put off my work for one night, but that is all I am willing to concede.”
Jonathan sighed, annoyed that Edward had brought up the basement incident to cheat his way into winning this argument.
“No. I have already said I will go alone,” Edward crossed his arms, “I will not lower myself to have someon-”
Both men jumped in position as the front door of the apartment was thrown open violently and a dark figure launched itself into the room while another stood hanging around in the dim light of the doorway.
Springing into action, Jonathan rolled off the couch and grabbed a vial of toxin from underneath the small table in the centre of the room while Edward bolted towards the kitchen to grab his cane.
As he sprinted back out into the living room, Edward found himself knocked to the floor. A sharp exhale of air left him as he connected with the hard wooden floorboards and his hand raised to strike at the intruder before he was assaulted by the smell of vanilla and patchouli; a smell which he instantly associated with one person and one person alone.
“Harley?” He dropped his hand slightly as her took in the visibly upset blonde who was currently straddling his waist.
“Oh Mistah E!” Harley cried, her big blue eyes peering down at him, “We need ya help. She's gone! She's gone and I need ya to find her!” Her voice broke on the final word and she buried her head down into Edward's chest.
Still stunned, Edward glanced at Jonathan and then at the darkened doorway as he tried to work out who the other intruder was since they were clearly not hostile.
“Who is gone, Miss Quinzel?” Jonathan asked quietly as he stood up slowly. His attention was also focused on the mysterious doorway figure as he moved towards Edward and Harley's direction.
Walking through the doorway to make themselves known, the dark figure revealed itself to be Selina and she answered for Harley.
“She means Ivy. Someone has kidnapped Ivy and we need Edward's help to find her.”
Edward and Jonathan exchanged a quick look before Edward brought up a hand to awkwardly pat Harley on the back as she continued to cry into his chest.
“Well, there goes my night off.” Edward grumbled quietly.