Dented Nado

William glanced up at the sky before looking back at the man… or well, the image of one before him. Even the most powerful magic couldn’t fully hide the horns or some of the scales of a dragon taking human form. Sebastian, now sitting grumply in front of him had a unique combination of jet black scales and feathers that couldn’t help but show themselves pricking up along his forearms, a slight iridescence to them, like raven feathers. And that was to say nothing of the all too sharp teeth in his mouth and the long horns that jutted from his head proudly.

“You’re really throwing a temper tantrum over a bit of rain?” He eyed the arrow in Sebastian’s arm before finally looking back at the red eyes glaring bitterly at him.

“A very ill timed downpour. I was making quite a bit of progress only to be slowed down once again.” He snapped.

“It’s England, It’s always raining, or miserable. You could consider migrating.” William stated plainly.

Sebastian’s gaze sharpened and his jaw snapped. “We were here first.”

William sighed, taking his sword which had previously been hanging loosely in his hand and plunged it into the dirt at his side. “I know.”

He moved to join Sebastian, perching on the wall beside him, looking out over the kingdom, at a distance they could both see the army rallying… planning their counterattack against the “horrible monster” that attacked them at the break of dawn.

Sebastian stared at them. As many humans and homes that he burned to a crisp, ate, crushed, intimidated, pleaded with…. Would it ever end? Or was he really destined to have his head chopped off and mounted on a wall as a trophy?

He glanced to the side to see William holding out his hand and staring at him. He stared back, studying him… more than confused on what he wanted. William made a grabbing gesture with his hand, looking more insistent. 

Sebastian put his hand in William’s.

This seemed to not be what he was asking for.

William rolled his eyes, dropped Sebastian’s hand and instead reached and grabbed the arm with the arrow stuck in it.

“Oh.”

“Idiot.” William scolded with no real bite as he examined the lodged arrow. “Hold still.” He ordered.

He took hold of the arrow, Sebastian stiffened, clenching every muscle in his body and immediately hissing angrily.

William watched his face, then adjusted his position, slightly off the wall so he was more in front of him, placing one hand on the wall beside Sebastian’s hip.

“Perhaps if I stayed with you, you could demand immediate departure of the area ‘or else’.” William said bluntly.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that simply result in more armies coming for my head?”

He glanced at William’s grip on the arrow, glaring at it. William hummed thoughtfully as he watched the dragon’s lips curl, ready to bite his head off out of pure instinct. He softened his grip for a moment and surprised the dragon by pressing their lips together softly.

They had shared such a thing many times at this point. Under the moonlight, in quiet alleyways where neither could be perceived… he was one of the few humans Sebastian willingly brought back into his cave and been with so intimately… But whenever William initiated, it never ceased to catch Sebastian off guard. 

He stared at William, rain still drizzling on them both, light drops falling over William’s pale skin, his eyes matching the vibrant green hills around him. He looked beautiful in the rain, it loosened his clean and pristine visage just so that it gave that glimmer of the man underneath. A treasure that the dragon had long since become enamored with. Their lips pressed together again, Sebastian lightly tracing the line of William’s jaw, running a clawed thumb along his cheek. They parted slowly, as if mourning the loss of each other.

After a long moment of simply taking each other in, William finally spoke. 

“Perhaps, if it was less a ransom note for a kidnapping and more an invite for a wedding, it would go over better?” William said quietly, looking coyly into the dragon’s eyes.

Sebastian blinked. “A… wedding?”

William tilted his head, with the smallest upturn of his lips.

“Will… do you mean that you would really wish to elo - AARGH”

He was cut off immediately as William shoved the arrow the rest of the way through his arm before quickly snapping off the tip and yanking the wood out entirely, immediately wrapping the wound in cloth he had seemingly already prepared.

“Asshole!” Sebastian hissed, barely keeping back fire erupting from his throat.

“You’re welcome.” William said very calmly as he stood, rather pleased with himself. 

Sebastian cradled his arm, he would heal fast but for fucks sake that still hurt!!

“And yes… I would.” He said matter of factly as he looked back off over the valley.

The dragon stilled with his words.

 “To answer your question. If you asked it of me.” William finished.

Sebastian was immediately distracted again, standing up himself, looking at the noble before him, dressed in very light but pristine shiny armor, that William himself would admit was mostly for show as the rain slowed. 

Their gazes locked, wind picking up and rustling the grass and trees around them.

“If I asked it of you?” Sebastian repeated, reaching out with clawed hands to set on William’s shoulders.

William nodded, serious and genuine. The only indication of how fast his heart was beating being the light pink that tinged his cheeks and ears.

He was hired on to basically ‘get rid of dead weight’ along with spearheading clearing out ‘Acorn Acres’ for development. And Misty, his Misty had been assigned clearing out the boatyard area. She had been excited, at first. A whole new experience, a chance to make headway with the ongoing conflict with toons and create a new route into the new territory. 

Yet… Ever since then… it was like she didn’t want to see him, or wanted to avoid him as if he was carrying a trojan virus.

At first he was hurt… mad even. What did he even do? When asked she’d say ‘nothing’ except it was so obvious she was avoiding him.

So that’s why he was here now, betraying a key role of relationships ‘to mind your own business unless invited.” He’d taken off work early under the excuse of needing an oil change (which was coming up anyway), and slipped down to the docks.

He considered himself a pretty strong cog, but he was struggling to keep his footing, multiple toons went flying through the air past him, taken by the intense winds. His fellow cogs had already taken shelter in buildings, looking at him like he was crazy.

This kind of wind could only be conjured up by one cog, but even then… she never tried nor wanted to maintain this kind of weather for this long, he squinted, looking up and holding his hat on his head. 

The clouds were rotating around a particular spot of the boatyard.

Shit.

Suddenly a small toon caught in a miniature vortex collided with him, he only barely kept his grounding. 

He tried to pull it off him, like it was gum stuck to him. 

“NOooOOOOO!” It cried, a small annoyingly bright colored cat toon. 

“Remove yourself from me critt-” He became aware of a tearing sound as he tried to peel it off. “OI!” 

The toon was shaking, gloves off apparently, the damn thing had claws! Did toons always have those? Or was it only when in their logic, it would be ‘’’’funny’’’?

His outer suit tore as he finally pulled the annoying thing off him, it pleaded with him as he glared at it for ruining a well built suit.

“PlEASE! It’s a monster! I’ve been spinning around for hou-RRSSSSss!” He shouted as Chip let it go and allowed the wind to take it.

Misty was many things, but she was not a monster. Something had to be hurting, probably one of these critter’s doing and they caused this damage themselves. So he pressed on, reaching a tall lighthouse, he felt a dry joint in his leg creak in protest. He was never tested for this amount of pressure on his joints.

Guess he’d find out just how much he could take.

As he got closer to where he knew Misty should be, rain started to lash at him, he tried to keep his head tilted, he really really didn’t want a lot of water getting close to his saw motor.

“Hey! Are they really sending more cogs!? This thing is enough trouble!” A squeaky voice came.

Chip glared angrily in the direction of the voice, he saw a group of toons plastered  to the ground, somehow sticking. 

“I’m trying to figure out what you toons did to Mx. Monsoon!” He snapped. 

“Us?! You cogs are the ones that unleashed an out of control cog that can control the weather out here! This is an eepy move even for you suits!”

“Sticky Lou wasn’t joking about this glue…”

“I…the company, and especially not Misty would do anything to cause any sort of damage.” Chip defended, saw revving, his body creaked again as the wind shoved against him.

“EEK! Here it comes! Everyone have their traps ready? We’ve got one shot!” One of the toons cried.

“What..?”

He was relieved for about two seconds when he saw Misty emerging from the cover of heavy rain, except something was wrong. Very wrong. There was not even a glimmer of light in her eyes, nothing but black nothing in her sockets, her hair was a dim grey. 

“TERMINATION SEQUENCE IN PROGRESS”

That wasn’t her voice. No toon would know how to tamper with a cog like that either…

He saw a toon about to use a magnet on her… when suddenly the wind picked up… the toons all yelped as they came unstuck and blew away. 

 His eyes and her… well… lack of them locked. Her head twitched slightly as she seemed to pause in recognition.

“REVVINGTON, CHIP, YOU HAVE NOT BEEN AUTHORIZED FOR THIS EXCUR- EXCUR- Chip…! Please I don’t want to-! EXCURSION. VACATE THE - hurt you! PREMISES IMMEDIATELY.”

Chip pressed forward. “I’m not leaving. Misty! Fight this! You would know better but you know this goes against… some kind of law! Whatever’s been done to you, they can’t get away with it.”

“LEAVE THE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY.”

She pointed in his direction and he jumped, vision going blurry for a second as a bolt of lightning hit the ground near him. He shook his head, eyes flipping back on as he refocused.

He saw Misty’s glowing yellow eyes staring at him alarm, there was tinges of blue and yellow flickering in her hair, at war with the deep grey. 

“Ch-Chip!” She cried. The wind calmed but she backed up away from him. “It’s… I can’t…”

“You can Mist, you already are!” He insisted, stepping closer to her. 

“REMOVE- REMOVING… I can’t!” She cried. 

Her eyes flickered, threatening to be swallowed again.

“You can.” He said again. 

Her head twitched back and forth, he the wind began blowing inconsistently. She keeled over and grabbed at her own head as if she wanted to pull something out of her own shell. 

“Ch-Ip… I need you to- TERMI - break … knock me out-!”

“Misty I’m not going to-!”

“DO IT! Pl ease! I don’t want to hurt anyone else-! I can’t hold o- RECOVERY COMPLETE”

The wind picked up massively again, his joints began to creak again, he could feel the bar in his left leg dangerously close to snapping.

“Dammit….” 

He ran his finger along his saw blade. She had asked… and he was going to find a way to get that damn thing out of her.

He aimed and…

—-

“Misty?” Chip poked his saw into her room. 

Misty had been stationary for days now, recharged completely but unable to bring herself to move.

The override had been removed, the amount of damage to toons and cogs alike far too much to ignore. However in terms of justice…

He’d quit from C.O.G.S INC. In protest when they pushed Misty into a settlement, the amount of money and time the court battle would have taken was not something two cogs could take on against such a massive company, they were using Misty’s signed contracts when she came onto the company to try and say she’d consented to experimental upgrades, (she had not) but there was enough of an argument that the lawsuit would have dragged on for cog knows how long. 

He strode in and sat beside her silently, taking her hand and plugging himself into the wall next to her.

For what it was worth, the whole ordeal becoming public had caused a massive split in the company, so much infighting was going on… yet seeing Misty so defeated… tired…

He leaned his head against hers. She closed her eyes and quietly squeezed his hand back.

Matthew was already staring outside again at the rain, he looked down at the pathway below the house… so much mud, so many possibilities! Mud pies! Mud cakes! Mud sandwiches! Mud Pancakes! 

He bounced on his stool again, nearly knocking it over before leaping away from the window.

“I’m gonna go ask dad if I can play outside!” He declared with determination.

Alfred panicked, trying to untangle himself from his blanket. “No!! Mattie you’ll be eletrocutionized!!” He fell over in his struggle, only to shriek again as another crash of thunder hit and curled up again.

Matthew was already padding downstairs, finding his dads in the kitchen finishing putting the dishes away.

“Mon cher! No! Those are the nice plates!” Francis gestured wildly, as if a sin had been committed. “They go over in that cabinet.”

Arthur looked down at the white plate in his hands he was just about to put away. “It looks exactly like the other ones here.” 

Francis huffed. “No those are the cheap plates, with the hard corners, that is one of the nice ones with the smooth rounded corners.”

Arthur stared at him. “You’re taking the piss…” 

Francis flicked his wrist. “Would you just put it in the other cabinet??”

Arthur rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, but complied and put the plate in the ‘correct’ cabinet.

Matthew came in and tugged on Arthur’s sleeve.

“Dad? May I go outside please?” He asked brightly and of course very politely.

Francis snorted then covered his mouth and pretended to cough.

Arthur stared down with his ‘really son?’ look.

“Matthew, it’s certainly not play weather out there.”

Matthew frowned. “I’ll be careful! Even if Alfred thinks I’ll be ‘electrocutionized’...”

“He’s absolutely right you know-”

“-No he’s not! Cause, I know, it’s ‘electrocuted’, ‘electrocutionized’ isn’t a word!” Matthew argued.

Arthur inhaled deeply and put a hand on Matthew’s head.

“That’s very clever of you Matthew, but what your brother is worried about is correct, even if the word isn’t. You will be electrocuted if you go out there right now. There will be plenty of mud once the storm passes, lad.”

Matthew pouted. “Awww…But Alfred doesn’t want to do anything and it looks fun outside…” 

Arthur hummed and frowned.

“How is your brother doing Matthew?” Francis asked, leaning against the counter and raising an eyebrow.

Suddenly the lights flickered and buzzed before going out entirely. 

Matthew jumped and let out a mousey squeak for joy… A long, terrified wail came from upstairs.

“...Well that answers that.” Arthur squinted at Francis in the dark and gestured to Matthew. “Would you..?”

“Of course love.” Francis put his hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “How about we go to the big window in the living room and watch all the fun weather from there together, hm?”

“Okay!” Matthew agreed immediately.

Arthur was already lighting a candle and trudging upstairs to his boy’s room. He pushed open the door Matthew hadn’t fully closed, immediately spotting the pile of trembling blankets. He set the candle down on the bureau and crouched  down on the floor near his son. 

“Alright there son?” He said softly to announce his presence.

Alfred peaked his head out from underneath, eyes wide and wet. 

“Dad!” 

Arthur knew better by now and had already sat down for the inevitable tackle-hug from his son. Even so he still had the wind slightly knocked out of him. That boy was strong, especially when he was scared and wasn’t thinking about it.

Arthur hugged his son back tightly. Simply holding him for a minute to let him breathe and calm down. 

“You’re going to be alright Alfred. You remember that counting trick I taught you?”

Alfred pulled away slightly, looking at his dad with a red face and snotty nose and immediately started babbling as he sniffled and hiccuped.

“I tried that, but then I got so scared I forgot how many numbers I counted, and then I kept getting scared and I kept forgetting and then there was a super loud one and I was scared the house was gonna fall down because it was shaking and then you’d be gone, and papa would be gone and Matthew would be gone and it’d be only me and I’d be alone and then it’d be even louder and and-!”

“Shhh shhh… Alfred, It’s alright… none of that’s happened.” He took his son’s small and slightly chubby face in his hands, trying to still him and make him look at him. “The house won’t fall down, it’s been through thousands of storms and stood strong. I’m still here, yeah?”

Alfred sniffled, obviously for a moment trying to look brave before another clap of thunder sounded and he wrapped his arms around his dad in terror again.

Arthur continued to hush him, rocking back and forth, glancing up at the sky as he did as if trying to will it to stop for his son’s sake.

Alfred eventually calmed down enough so Arthur could move to grab tissues and a damp cloth, wiping away the snot and tears on his face and having him press the cloth to his eyes.

“There you go, see? Isn’t that better?” 

Alfred nodded weakly, still flinching when thunder hit, but at least that had calmed as well.

Arthur led him over to his bed, picking up his blanket and putting it back over Alfred before sitting on the bed with him.

“Is Mattie ok? He wanted to go outside…” Alfred mumbled.

“He’s just fine lad, we weren’t going to let him do that.” Arthur reassured him. 

Alfred peaked up at him. “And you promise you're not going anywhere neither?”

Arthur almost impulsively corrected him that it was ‘either’ not ‘neither’ but right, not the time.

“Of course not lad, what has you so worried that all of us are going to disappear?” He asked, rubbing his son’s back.

“Mom did… even though she promised…” He muttered.

 Arthur stilled, before slowly inhaling and clenching his jaw. “...Ah… well…”

He chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to think. 

“The thing is… well… you know… your mother she… she didn’t…” He rubbed the back of his neck. 

Alfred really had been so close with his mother, even after several years now Arthur still didn’t know how to explain such a loss to a small child.

“She didn’t… want to leave, but ah… you know, sometimes our… bodies get worn out and our um… spirits have to go on, but you know she’s still here, even if you can’t see her.” Arthur stammered, feeling stupider by the minute as Alfred stared at him.

“...Mom’s a ghost?”

“Er, ah… well, something like that I suppose…” Arthur stammered.

Alfred sat up on his knees suddenly and stared. “But I’ve been using the monster spray to keep ghosts and monsters away!! Am I keeping mom away??!”

“NO! Oh, no, ah, goodness… that spray is ah… for the bad ghosts and monsters. Honestly they might have been… crowding her… had it not been for your help!” Arthur blurted out.

Alfred suddenly jumped up. “Really?!”

“Yes, and don’t stand on the bed please Alfred, sit down… there you go, thank you.” 

Alfred sat now directly next to Arthur, dangling his feet over the side of the bed. 

“So… mom is still here as a ghost, even though I can’t see her? So she didn’t break her promise?” He asked, kicking his legs.

“Certainly not. She’s a woman of her word after all.” Arthur said very matter of factly. “The people we love stay with us forever.” He wrapped an arm around Alfred’s shoulders and hugged him tightly. 

“So… If I stop being able to see you, will you be a ghost and stay too?” He asked curiously.

“Oh certainly, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried!” Arthur smiled wickedly. “I’ll haunt you so you’ll never forget I’m there!” 

Alfred giggled and shoved him. “Noooooo! Don’t haunt me!”

“Too late! It’s been decided. You’re cursed to have your dad haunt you forever.”

—

Arthur shut the door quietly, Alfred finally calmed down enough to sleep, and Francis had brought Matthew up who had finally gotten sleepy while watching the storm. He crept to his and Francis’ room, sighing as they were finally able to get ready for bed.

“He seemed pretty happy in his sleep, you must have done a good job calming him down.” Francis whispered to him as they climbed under the covers.

Arthur adjusted his pillows. “Sure… even if now he thinks his mother is a ghost.”

Francis paused and flipped over in the bed quickly staring at him.

“How did you go from calming his fear of thunder to telling him his mother is a ghost??”

“I panicked…. Seemed to work though, once I assured him his ghost spray only deters bad ghosts.” Arthur turned to face Francis with raised eyebrows. “He’s… still too little to really understand… and I hate the idea of him thinking his mother didn’t love him.”

Francis moved closer to him and pulled him tight. “You’re a good father mon cher.” He hummed.

“Don’t know about that… but I’m… trying.” He huffed, closing his eyes and absentmindedly running his fingers through Francis’ long hair.

“You are slathering way too much on.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Alright, Ivan, I get your grumpy, but its not my fault you got lobster-fied, you're gonna have to deal with it if you want it to not sting.” 

He purposefully dropped a glob of ointment onto Ivan’s back to make a point, making the toasted Russian’s shoulder’s jolt with sudden cold.

Ivan grunted but tried to ignore Alfred’s hands running all over his back and shoulders with the icky substance that made the hairs on his arm rise in distaste. He stared forward miserably.

“I should have stayed in the cold.” He muttered.

“Awww come on babe don’t be like that.” 

Alfred, ever the optimist, kissed his cheek, unable to help chuckling a little bit as he observed the Russian’s red burnt skin briefly turn white from contact only to become red and angry again. Ivan glanced up at him with sad eyes.

“I was not meant for the sun.”

Alfred huffed and swung around with the jar of ointment in one hand and plopped himself into Ivan’s lap.

“Alright drama king I hear you, burns suck.” He scooped out more of the medicine and Ivan’s whole face wrinkled as Alfred started to spread it around his front. “But hey, at least we’re us. You’ll be fine by tomorrow, not like humans that have burns affecting them for a week or more.” 

He hummed as he looked Ivan over. “It’s also not as bad as Iggy when he visited just so you know, he actually did forget sunscreen.”

Ivan smiled a tiny bit at the idea of England being more miserable than him at one point. 

“Remember that time he randomly had way way more freckles than normal? It was ‘cause of that, wild right?”  Alfred babbled, before unceremoniously yanking Ivan’s shirt up to get his stomach.

Ivan let out a garbled noise of surprise. It wasn’t like Alfred hadn’t touched him there before, but he could have at least worked up to it. Alfred paused and peaked up at Ivan before grinning. 

“Oh, sorry. May I?”

Ivan huffed. “You may as well.”

Despite trying to be annoyed, Alfred was just infectious that way, so he had started smiling too.

Finally the process was finished, once the ‘goop’ dried Ivan did have to admit it felt better, even if he was embarrassed at how red he was. Though he supposed it wouldn’t be obvious he was blushing, there was that.

Alfred put away the medicine and washed his hands, as he did he seemed to start thinking and slowly frowned.

“Hey… for real though, you’re having fun otherwise right?” He turned off the faucet and fidgeted. “You don’t um…”

Ah… Ivan could see where this was going. He stood up and hugged Alfred from behind, setting his chin on top of his head. 

“Before you start saying things like ‘You don’t have to stay’ or ask me if I regret being with you, I very much want to stay, and I do not regret it” He told Alfred sincerely. 

Alfred leaned back against him. “Fuck, you really can read me from a mile away even while you’re sitting there in pain.” He laughed.

Ivan moved to hunch so his head was on Alfred’s shoulder and flicked his nose playfully.

“All that money and resources spying on you had to be good for something.” He teased before kissing his neck.

Alfred laughed even harder and tangled one hand in Ivan’s hair and turned so he could plant a few kisses on Ivan’s cheek and nose. 

“Oh yeah? Well I spent even more money so I betcha I know even more about you!” He grinned, a little spark appearing in his eyes.

“Oh? What makes you so sure Fredya? Maybe I have fooled you into believing a false narrative.” Ivan teased, falling into the same little game they had played for centuries now.

Alfred just slowly tilted his head with a bright smile and Ivan saw him reach down to a cabinet below, smoothly pulling out something and pressing a large bottle into Ivan’s hand. The cold of the bottle immediately soothing his skin.

“For the pain. Chilled and everything, yeah?” 

Ivan glanced down, finding a large bottle of his favorite Vodka, indeed chilled.

The sunburn once again hid his blush as he let out a string of loving words in his mother language as he planted kisses all over Alfred’s face as praise, making the younger nation blush and brighten as he laughed.

Inside had been a modest little pin, the type that would be worn on the lapel, expertly crafted to look like a small little pigeon.

William certainly didn’t hate it…

In fact, he couldn’t help the fact that it brought a small smile to his lips as he inspected the gift. 

…Alright he liked it a lot.

He hadn’t thought Sebastian had been watching, but that was honestly the only catalyst for this situation that  he could think of.  

The demon began showing up more and more often, always with a gift in tow, initially William wondered if this strange behavior was an excuse to pester him, however Sebastian wouldn’t always linger, sometimes he’d simply drop the gift off and then be on his way.

The gifts had gotten so frequent and so numerous William had created a full sorting system for them, tracking the ‘phases’ the demon seemed to go through.

The gifts were small shiny things at first, like the pin. Cufflinks, rings, sometimes just shiny little stones. It wasn’t unlike the sort of things corvids were known to leave behind with humans they particularly liked. 

Then, phase two… William categorized this phase by “things the demon likely saw in corny human novels and movies”. Many many many flowers, chocolates and bottles of fine wine.

Ronald had quite the laugh during this phase when he came to visit and saw everything. 

“Better not let Grell see, I think she’d kill to get this many roses from someone, probably literally.” He commented.

William had frowned as he’d been trying to figure out where to set the newest batch. 

“I doubt even she would know what to do with this many.” 

Ronald had watched him and narrowed his eyes. “So… how long you planning on stringing him along? Holding out for him to give you something big or..?”

William finally found a shelf for the flower.

“I’m not ‘stringing’ him along, I’m trying to figure out what kind of game he’s playing.”

Ronald had gaped at him. “You’re… kidding me…No wonder he’s bombarding you then, you actually don’t get the idea.” 

William rolled his eyes. “I doubt he has truly romantic intentions. He’s impish and likes seeing how I react to things.”

“Sure… keep telling yourself that. But we aren’t under those old rules anymore ya know, it’s fine if you want to get a little flirty with a demon.”

William huffed, Ronald’s sign to drop it. (Even if he was right)

–

Phase 3 was when things got truly out of hand. He was now being gifted multiple figurines, sculptures and plushies of various birds, particularly pigeons. Now did William hate any of them? Of course not. There was a reason he was running out of room in his apartment. Not to mention when Sebastian did linger once giving a gift, he kept… staring, as if expecting something. William was starting to wonder if maybe he had promised the demon something at some point and was forgetting, and for some reason the demon wouldn’t tell him outright.

It came to a head when William heard an all too familiar knocking on his door, only to find the demon with his cat-like smile holding yet another gift for him, this time a little crocheted pigeon with a bow-tie.

It was very cute. It was impossible for William to be mad at, but given he’d nearly tripped over a larger plush in the living room, he had to find answers.

“You’re a ridiculous demon-masqurading-as-a-man.” William found himself saying as he stared at the plush.

“Oh? You don’t like it?” Sebastian wondered far too innocently.

“Of course I like it, its adorable.” William snipped, then grabbed Sebastian firmly by the wrist and pulling him inside. “Find a spot for it. I dare you.” He then said, closing the door and crossing his arms.

Sebastian hummed and looked around. “Ah… I see the issue.”

William almost sighed in relief. 

“You need a bigger house.” Sebastian declared with a bright impish smile.

William let out an odd sound from his throat in exasperation. 

“You’re impossible. What motive do you have for all of this anyway? You know I like everything you gift so you can’t be trying to figure out something specific, you have to have seen every reaction from me by now.” William babbled.

Sebastian stared, tilting his head. “You really don’t know?” 

William stared at him, furrowing his brows. He’d had one idea, for a while now. He wasn’t stupid enough to not know what those sorts of actions usually meant. But it was… this demon… he didn’t really want to get his hopes up.

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, now looking exasperated himself. “Ah…. I see, perhaps I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I really don’t know how to make such things clear without coming across as… well…” 

William looked the demon over. He seemed… nervous.

Perhaps….?

“I would say forget about dancing around the issue and be completely direct with what it is you want.” 

Sebastian’s eyes darted away for a moment before he stepped close to William.

“I would like to… attempt being with you, romantically.” He stated firmly.

William’s eyes widened.

Well… he had asked the demon to be direct.

“You would?”

Sebastian nodded. “Forgive me for being awkward around it. In the past I have only ever used flirtation for ulterior motives, I have never been in a situation where I sincerely find myself caring. It’s… foreign to me. I was attempting one of the methods I’ve seen humans use to show they care.”

William felt suddenly… a lot lighter. If he was still actively under reaper rules, he wouldn’t have even let Sebastian get this far - but that past was far behind him. He finally let himself ponder the idea of being romantic in any sort of regard.

Like with all the gifts, he certainly didn’t hate it….

…In fact he liked the idea. 

He smiled just a bit despite himself, stepping forward closer to Sebastian, touching the little pigeon plush, taking it gently and humming.

“For your notes, I don’t think even wealthy humans give nearly this much this regularly. However, that being said, my apartment was rather drab before this.” He looked up at Sebastian who quite hilariously looked like a deer in headlights. 

Perhaps the demon needed a more direct response now too. He leaned in just slightly and pecked the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. 

“I haven’t allowed myself to be romantic or close to someone in a very long time, so you’ll have to be patient with my form of awkwardness as well.” He teased slightly.

Sebastian’s demonic red eyes seemed to brighted. 

“Ah! Then you mean-?”

William nodded… only to suddenly have the wind knocked out of him as the demon hugged him just a bit too quickly and too tightly.

There was that first time on Valentine’s Day all those years ago… that had nearly sent him crawling in a hole to never return from…

He brother had very bluntly said “Just go right up to him and go ‘oi! Italy, you're going out with me now!’ Cut the shit and just demand what you want!”

He didn't’ like the forcefulness, but he supposed knowing Italy he’d scream and run if he hated the idea, so he had done it, he’d approached Italy after work, gathered up all his courage…

”O-Oi! Italy, You’re going out with me n-now! If that’s okay…”

Italy had jumped out of his skin but had agreed quickly. “AH okay!”

Germany was riding high until he realized he was once again on a ‘date’ and had no idea how to initiate ‘romance’. Italy was more of a romantic sort than he was, and yet their interactions were as platonic as ever.

They ended the evening as friends… as they had always been.

America had suggested “Do some huge super big gesture! So obvious and romantic there’s no way it could be interpreted as anything else!”

When asking for examples he had gotten “Make a super big feast, blast his favorite music, say something like ‘I can’t live without you!’”

So he had invited Italy over, tried his best to cook Mediterranean pasta, knowing Italy liked it… only for Feliciano to end up hovering, micromanaging, and then shooing him out of the kitchen, leaving Ludwig dejected in the dining room. He knew he should have just stuck with what he knew but he’d been told ‘cook your dates’ favorite food’ was a good mood. He should have known Feliciano was too particular about how certain things were cooked, as the evening ended up being flipped with Feliciano cooking for him instead. He’d remembered the last bit of advice after the meal he had spent pitying himself and blurted out…

”I can’t live without you!!”

Feliciano had looked up, stared at him… then quietly chuckled and took his wine glass away.

He hadn’t even drank that much… he liked beer a lot more anyway…

France had given him lines to read in French along with appearing with chocolates and good wine.

He ignored that advice completely.

No… he had decided this was a worthless endeavor. If Italy felt anything for him it would have ‘happened’ already, he was better off not ruining a good friendship with his foolish and annoying feelings that had surprised even himself. He seemed completely incapable of romance, and in his darker moments he suspected he was incapable of being loved in any romantic way.

—

Japan had honestly been trying to think how to get Italy and Germany to stop… hovering… around each other. It was as obvious to him as anyone that they had some sort of romantic feelings for each other, little glances between the two, the odd content smile from Ludwig in Feliciano’s presence, the way he’d notice Italy tracing his finger around the brim of a wine glass completely enamored with whatever Ludwig was talking about…

He’d been called a third wheel before, he didn’t quite feel that way himself but he also wished his two dear friends would stop torturing themselves over each other. Through a few conversations it was clear Ludwig had been trying to figure out how to ‘make a move’. He didn’t consider himself very romantic nor very intrested in it when it came to his own life… but to be honest, the advice he had overheard given to Ludwig was awful. Germany was just… himself, and expecting their own romantic successes to immediatly apply to him was a little insane. He understood where they were coming from, but still.

He had invited Ludwig out for a night out, he’d been meaning to see what the German thought of Japanese beer or sake anyway. They had lulled into a calm, just according to plan.

”Germany… your relationship with Italy…”

He noted how Germany froze mid drink, wide and sometimes terrifying blue eyes darting to him, he kept his gaze plain and non-judge mental, especially because he wasn’t judgemental at all.

“I think you shouldn’t give up just yet, I’ve heard you’ve wanted advice, but in the end, if you two are meant to join together, the only way you’ll be able to communicate your desire for a different kind of relationship is if you do it your way. No one else can tell you how to best show your care.” He said very straightforwardly.

Ludwig stared, and began fiddling with a napkin. “But I don’t… know how to…”

Japan hummed. “Mr. Germany, when you’ve noticed Italy is not ‘as sunny’, what is it you do?”

Germany blinked. “Er, well the last time that happened, I brought him some Kuchen I made and set up some blankets for him, he gets cold when he’s down…”

”You showed your affections naturally, without even thinking about it.” Japan said very firmly. “Now, you want to make it clear to Italy, that if he’s in agreement you’d like to be romantic with him. That is your goal. So you must do this with your own methods, no one else’s, otherwise the message will never come across, as it will not be your own.”

”That… Er… seems very wise. Do you have much experience??” Germany questioned, coughing a bit.

”Not personally, but think of it this way. America suggested a big romantic gesture, with the “I can’t live without you!” Line. That’s a purely Alfred move, you couldn’t imagine him doing anything else, so of course it worked for him with Ivan, because as much as Ivan claims to be irritated with Mr. America, in the end he finds the way he is endearing. For France, I’m almost certain that’s how him and Mr. England ‘make up’ every single time, and then of course your brother’s bluntness and boldness gets him far with those who like that personality trait.” He explained. “If you wind up truly rejected, it would be sad, but at least you would have true clarity because you asked your way.”

Ludwig considered Japan’s words, glancing down into his beer glass… downed the rest of it then nodded. “Thank you Japan… as always, your advice his appreciated.”

”….I would also like for you two to figure it out and be less distracted with each other during important business… We would be much more productive.”

”…Noted…”

——

This time, he had asked Italy if he could visit, and had prepared an Italian Cream Cake… in past he had lied about desserts he had provided, a bit embarrassed to admit he enjoyed baking as a hobby, but in recent years he had gotten over it at least a little bit, and he did want to take the risk and let Italy know he had specifically and meticulously made it for him, by himself.

Italy as always flung open his door to greet him. “Germaa-n-ieeee Ciao Ciao!!” He chirped, standing on his tip toes to kiss both of his cheeks to greet him. “Come in! It’s been too long since we could visit!”

Ludwig smiled slightly. “It’s been five days.”

”Too long!” Italy insisted with a grin as he pulled him inside. “Ooo! What sort of sweet have you brought this time Germany? You always bring such good ones.”

”I er…. I made this one, Italian Cream Cake, I’ve been practicing a bit.” Ludwig confessed, holding out the covered dish.

Feliciano’s eyes lit up. “You went through all that trouble! Ohhh just at a glance it looks beautiful! A work of art! Here! Let’s make it a centerpiece!”

Italy gently took the glass covered cake and set it in the middle of their dining table, Ludwig flushed but looked on proudly, he only hoped he’d achieved the taste and texture he wanted…

He joined Italy in the kitchen and helped with cleaning up as he always did as Feliciano served them up.

As particular as Italy was about food, there was no denying his instincts on flavor were masterful, he supposed Feliciano had much more time than he himself had to explore different flavors and types of food, and then France had even longer.

He paused as he took the first bite, noting Feliciano had included german sausage in his sauce rather than Italian… the meat from his home and the slow cooked carefully seasoned sauce from Italy blended beautifully, he made sure to praise Italy on the choice.

They ate, then cut the cake, he was nearly bombarded by compliments from Italy, and pleas to “please share more of your baking with me!!!” He felt light, cheerful, happy. It was domestic, almost, he was scared to ruin it. But even so…

He cleared his throat. “Italy, I wanted to… tell you something, and find out your opinion on it, so I hope you’ll take what I’m about to say very seriously…”

Italy sat up straight in his chair. “Of course Captain! I’m all ears!” He said with a salute and a bright grin.

Ludwig couldn’t help a soft smile before he folded his hands together and cleared his throat to be ‘serious’.

”You’ve been a very good friend to me for a very long time, we’ve had moments where we’ve been at odds with our understanding of each other, where I’ve pushed you too hard, when I’ve resisted your attempts to have me ‘relax’, but in the end your the only person I’ve ever been able to call a dear friend.”

Feliciano looked him up and down, eyes shining as he beamed. “Awwww Germany!! Your my dearest friend too!!”

Ludwig nodded firmly. “But that’s not all… It’s… taken me a very long time. I’ve felt… ashamed, honestly, of the way I’ve felt, our culture and bosses haven’t been exactly friendly to the sorts of things I’ve felt… to the way I am, so its been difficult for me to get to the point of true honestly.”

”Germany….” Italy began, almost standing from his chair, but Ludwig put a hand up, asking for Italy to hear him out.

”I know you’ve dealt with much of the same. But now… I must be honest, because… It kills me to be deceptive, especially with you. I’ve… …. I…..” Ludwig swallowed hard. No, he had to just say it, he could almost hear others laughing at him for being so serious, but this was serious. Italy meant a lot to him, so he’d treat it as such.

He inhaled sharply and began again. “I feel for you as more than a friend… I care for you, find myself wanting to do sappy romantic things with you even if I mess them up.” Ludwig avoided Italy’s gaze as he confessed, wringing his hands together in front of him. “So I have to ask you now… if you feel even remotely the same way… and if you don’t, our friendship means too much to me to ruin so if…!”

He was cut off by Italy suddenly grasping his sweaty clenched hands, and pressing his lips suddenly onto his. He was sure he didn’t look at all very attractive with his wide open and stunned eyes and stiff stunned lips… but Italy… Italy… Feliciano looked so beautiful he couldn’t look away, eyebrows furrowed, almost pained as if he’d been holding back, a close up view of his sun-kissed skin and freckles, and his closed eyes that seemed to twitch with dried tears. Finally he got himself to move and tried to give a kiss in return… before they finally parted and stared at each other.

Feliciano did tear up at that point and cupped Ludwig’s cheap. “Ludwig… my Ludwig… always so formal and direct and scared at the same time, I adore you so much! I just never thought… I thought that… maybe I was misreading things!”

Ludwig reached up, finally feeling free to do so and ran his hand along Feliciano’s face in return. “Do you know… how often I thought I was making a fool of myself trying to confess only to be rejected?”

”Huh??! Luddy! I was doing the same! I asked uncle France for help, my brother… even America!” Feliciano confessed in a panic. “I thought maybe I didn’t understand the right way to show you I liked you!”

Ludwig couldn’t help it, he started laughing, deep and bubbly. “I did the exact same thing, right down to a similar line of people!”

Feliciano joined in with laughing, and they wound up kissing in between giggles at the rediculousness of thier situation, before finally, they touched foreheads, and Italy’s deep honey gaze met ice blue.

Ludwig pulled Feliciano close to him, more content than he had ever been, having just laughed more than he had in his life.

”In the end… I’m glad we did it our way.”

Stolas, being the current head manager of the London Reaper district of course ended up hearing about the rumor. One of those little things that would come up during coffee breaks. Sometimes rumors spread quickly, many of them ended up not being true or over exaggerated… all of them had been there are REALLY long time after all, and sometimes rumors were the only thing that made their grueling jobs a little bit interesting.

This one… however, made Stolas sigh, he knew James too well, if those under him are especially scared of him at the moment, something was up.

Many of his coworkers thought Stolas was insane for remaining cheery with James, or they feared him too by proxy. Stolas wasn’t stupid, he knew why everyone was scared of James – James did it on purpose for Christ’s sake. However, since he had come on some 200 years ago and had many an interaction with the guy, finding himself unphased by his scare tactics... (he had seen men much more monstrous than James after all), he couldn’t help but feel some sort of…. Sympathy? No, that might not be the word? Maybe sometimes he just got a glimmer of the kind of man James could be and wanted to reach out and pull that glittering little gem out. He just hoped he wasn’t seeing something that wasn’t there.

He gazed at the large grandfather clock ticking away in the corner of his office, such a device was new to him, but he had picked it up a little quicker than James had who had kept time by candle for much longer than most of them.

He had 10 more minutes before his break would be over…

Stolas closed his large book he had snuck in to read on his breaks, it was one on the Tudors he had gotten quite lost in. Normally more ancient societies piqued his interest, but it was harder to get good accounts… he half wished he could just explore those ancient cities and discover their secrets himself. But… alas… here he was, not that he could have gone far in his human life either.

He downed the last bit of his tea before sitting up, making sure his ink well was covered and his quill was secure for when he inevitably came back to work.

He walked out of the London office and down the hall, tapping on James’s office door cheerfully, barely waiting for a grunt before coming in.

“What do you want?” James accused, looking up from his paperwork.

Now he did look quite the sight, more tired and grouchy than usual – and judging from the redness of his nose, it was irritated.

“Well now, I had heard you were especially difficult to deal with, and now I know why!” Stolas said, pushing his glasses up his nose and grinning.

James sighed, leaning back and rubbing his left eye slightly, they looked a bit bloodshot.

“Maybe if everyone did their job correctly…”

“Yes, then you wouldn’t be so cross all the time, blah blah blah, I’ve heard the script.” He took a few steps forward, leaning on James’s desk, something only he seemed to get away with. “You’re sick.”

“You’re pissing me off.” James snipped back, baring his teeth.

Stolas shook his head. This man was like trying to be friendly to a wolf on a good day, a rabid one on a bad day.

“Why don’t you just take the day off James? If your sick its not as if you can help it.” Stolas offered.

“I can get up, I can walk, I haven’t sprouted any pustules, not that reapers could get such a horrible thing thank god…” He paused, rubbing his hands together as if having the urge to wash them. “Unless I keel over, I’m still coming into work. Any reaper disease can’t be serious, it won’t kill me.”

“You’re a stubborn man James.” Stolas said, deciding to state the obvious. “What does Walter think?” He asked, furrowing his brows.

Walter was supposedly a ghost from James’s old life that followed him around. Stolas wasn’t entirely convinced he existed, or if he was a ghost in the sense of something James had been through that haunted him, or perhaps was his way of coping with the state of things. He cared for James enough that he didn’t want to try and tell James what he was or wasn’t experiencing… he couldn’t see through his eyes after all. If Walter was real… well… maybe it was good that James still had someone around to keep him grounded. If he wasn’t… what could he really do about that?

“Walter can mind his own business too.” He growled stubbornly, seemingly reading the same sentence on his paperwork a third time over, getting more frustrated.

Stolas narrowed his eyes, he slammed his hands down on the desk briefly, startling James a bit as he suddenly crossed over to his side of the desk, leaning down from his decent height and pointing his finger only inches away from James’s face.

“Either you let me take you home willingly, or I pick you up and carry you kicking and screaming.” He said very seriously.

James’s eyes widened before turning into a glare, leaning up and meeting his gaze with his own threatening one. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Stolas grinned.

James didn’t have time to run. He growled as Stolas tackled him and lifted him up out of his seat, having no problem lifting the bearded man up onto his shoulder.

“STOLAS SANTORI YOU PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!” He barked.

Stolas chuckled, he could tell all of James’s teeth were razor sharp just from the tone of his voice.

“You stay out of this!” James then barked, seemingly pointing at thin air in irritation, and Stolas was almost sure the air got colder.

Stolas walked towards the door, ignoring James struggling. “Last chance, I can put you down and you can go with me and retain some dignity…”

James stiffened and stopped flailing before sighing and going limp. “Fine, FINE! Just put me down or I swear I’ll have you- GAH!!”

Stolas followed his order and let James fall off his shoulder, only barely catching his balance.

James breathed heavily before coughing a bit, trying to straighten his hair and jacket. “If… If I’m penalized for being gone today…”

“I’ll take full responsibility. You can say you were kidnapped.” Stolas responded, walking out into the hallway with James in tow.

“…If I were to say you kidnapped me and disrupted my work… you could be put on trial.”

Stolas simply slipped his glasses off, cleaning them as they walked. He knew the halls well enough by now he probably could have found his way around without being able to see at all.

“If it happens… it happens.”

“How can you be so calm about such a thing?” James snapped before sneezing, grumbling, and pulling a handkerchief out of his coat pocket to blow his nose into.

“If that’s my fate, who am I to argue with it. I prefer to do what I think is right James, not what is easy or safe. And right now… seeing you rested is what I believe is right.” He said, looking down at James sincerely as they walked out of the building.

James hung his head for a moment, grinding his teeth slightly before walking again to head to his assigned home, Stolas not far behind.

“You’re a fool.” He said simply, and quietly.

Stolas just laughed. “Maybe. Most people seem to think so for getting within 2 feet of you.” He said softly, nudging James with his arm.

James felt miserable, he was annoyed, and on some level, he was scared.

He certainly had expected (and been quietly and not so quietly jealous) that because Harv(ey) and Bruce had apparently been close as far back as when they were children, Wayne would certainly be ecstatic to have Two-Face hanging around. He still was a little bit taken a back that well… anyone would want him around.

But he really was trying to reform. Maybe part of it was because the routine had gotten boring and he’d started finding more quiet and less destructive games and puzzles more entertaining these days. Besides, he realized he could have more fun with such things when he wasn’t being hauled back to Arkham because he’d taken things a little too far so often.

That being said, he had a new focus, a new goal.

And that was the previously mentioned Harv(ey) Dent. The giant, the absolute unit that towered over him.

Two souls for the price of one. Harvey was quietly intelligent (though sometimes a little bit delightfully oblivious), kind, and soft. Then Harv, he was bold, had a wonderfully fun fashion sense, and had a gravelly voice that admittedly caused Eddie’s mind to pull a blank at times.

They were a man that could have half their face burned to a crisp with acid and still be the only man that had been in Arkham (in Edward’s opinion) that could really get it.

He still remembered the first time “two-face” had been escorted into Arkham, the sight of them had knocked the wind right out of him, completely stopped his plotting for his next attempt to outsmart Batman.

Sure, perhaps he had heard and sort of seen images of Harvey Dent, the famous distract attorney that had been nicknamed Gotham’s “white knight” on the tiny, crappy TV they were occasionally allowed to watch when they were let out of their cells. But that never did him justice.

Seeing him here? Up close?

What a man. A handsome man, carved by angels and blessed by the devil

Now if only he could get Harv(ey) Dent to notice him.

Since that day he’d tried time and time again under the hope that maybe just maybe… this giant of a man would consider a relationship of sorts.

He tried to impress them with his vast intellect, sitting close to him and going off about any fact or subject he happened to know. He then tried to drill Harvey about his knowledge as a lawyer (which he thought also might just be interesting to know). They were certainly a good listener… and Harvey warmed up to talking about legal jargon and the pains of law school with Eddie eventually.

He was able to talk to Harv about their mutual love of fun patterns and bright colors and agreed that anyone who dissed it just didn’t understand fashion. He also realized soon that Harv loved to talk when he was acknowledged, and Eddie was more than happy to encourage him to and lightly swoon at that voice.

However, they were still only on a ‘good pals’ basis.

Which maybe Eddie could have accepted, except he caught Harvey staring at him at times, smiling slightly whenever Eddie would talk about what interested him. And Harv, he had gotten Harv to laugh a few times.

There was something there, he knew it, but for some reason he couldn’t puzzle out, Dent wasn’t acting on it.

It continued to this day. Harley had suggested to Edward he simply outright tell Harv(ey) Dent he was interested in them. But that wasn’t fun or interesting, and certainly not as romantic as Eddie would like.

So, after years of frustration now, he decided he’d go to the one person who had known Harv(ey) Dent their whole life for advice.

 ============

Bruce’s POV

============

“So, that’s my dilemma.”  Edward finished, pushing up his glasses in a very matter-of-fact way.

Bruce sighed. The only person who had ever rivaled his own stubbornness and… stupidity when it came to others having an romantic interest in them, was in fact Harv(ey) Dent. This would no doubt be difficult.

He wasn’t even sure how he managed to get into a relationship with Clark and Diana, so he wasn’t sure how much of a help he’d be trying to get Harv(ey) and Eddie to pair up.

“I’m decently sure he’s interested in you.” He replied.

“I’m quite sure too, however nothing I do seems to get them to do anything.” Eddie expressed, looking completely exasperated.

“hrrn....” Bruce grumbled thoughtfully. “What have you tried so far?”

“Well… I’ve given them gifts, flowers seemed like a sure-fire method- yet he seemed to somehow take them as a platonic gift.”

Bruce stared at Eddie for a long moment. “Who gives flowers platonically?”

Eddie shrugged.

Bruce sighed. “Dammit Harvey… Harv…” He mumbled under his breath. “I could try talking to them, get some better idea of what’s going on their head, could be Harvey and Harv keep arguing on how they want to respond.” He suggested.

Eddie nodded thoughtfully. “That may be the case, that is a possibility I had not considered… thank you for your assistance batma….. ah… Bruce…” He corrected with a slight grin.

Bruce half smiled back.

Batman was on the case.

====

“So… Harv…. Harvey…” Bruce began wandering over to where they were sitting.

They were seemingly switching between drinking a hot coffee and a Frappuccino.

Harvey had complained more than once that because of their disagreements Harv ended up making them consume way too much sugar. Too much caffeine in this case it seemed.

Their eyes flicked over to him.

“Hi Bruce.”

“What’s up Pretty Boy?”

Bruce sat down across from them. “Eddie seems to be interested in you.”

Never hurt to be blunt with a lawyer.

Harvey snorted. “That’d be nice… he is really cute but…”

“I’m sure Eddie is straight, just our luck, right?”

Bruce had never been so shocked in all his life.

Straight?

Eddie…

Straight?! E d  d I  e.

Str a I ght, Edward Nygma E Nygam s t ra ight

The two concepts being put together caused a complete error in Bruce’s mind that was slowly beginning to fry.

Who could possibly conclude that Edward was s t r aight?

The riddler…. The riddler who for a while greeted Batman like he was lowkey interested in a literal love-hate relationship

Edward

Str a I ght.

“Are you… fucking kidding me?” Bruce ended up stammering before he even realized it. “He’s not… at all!”

Harvey blinked at him a few times in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

Bruce gaped at them. They couldn’t be serious.

“Harvey… I… Harv… he… he’s not exactly subtle about it. In fact he’s very open, very much out and proud, flaming even. I’m sure he’d agree.”

Harvey looked at Bruce through squinted eyes. “Are you sure Bruce?”

“Sure, maybe he’s a bit more flashy than your average guy, but that doesn’t mean gay.” Harv added with a shrug.

“He calls you handsome at least 3 times a day.” Bruce said still staring at Harv(ey) like they were absolutely insane.

“Lots of people do.”

“Have you ever seen him even flirt with any women??” Bruce asked in disbelief.

“No but… well there’s always been more men in Arkham, and when do you even have time for that?”

Bruce was somewhere in-between wanting to laugh at them and slap them.

“He’s given you flowers.”

“Pretty sure he’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly…” Bruce wheezed.

This conversation was taking years off his life at this point. He shook his head and texted Edward.

“Get in here (the living room downstairs) It’s important”

Edward slid in and sat peppily down on the couch with Bruce within a few minutes, causing Harv(ey) to look between Eddie and Bruce in confusion.

“You rang Mr. Wayne~?” Eddie asked with a cheeky grin as he leaned his head against his hand.

“You know what these men just said to me?” Bruce began folding his hands together.

“Bruce nooo…” Harvey pleaded.

“No no, I think he should know.” Bruce insisted.

Eddie raised his eyebrows comically high. “Well don’t keep me waiting, what’s the tea?”

Bruce cleared his throat. “They said… they’re sure you’re straight.”

Eddie stared at Bruce for a minute, eyes widening.

“Me?” He asked completely baffled.

Bruce nodded.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed until his face turned red and he had trouble breathing.

Harv(ey) looked on stiffly, feeling as if they had made a mistake somewhere as the dawning realization slapped them in the face.

 ============

Harv(ey)’s POV

===================

It was bad enough they had put themselves in denial so far they had missed out starting something with the small bean-pole riddle-man much earlier…

But now because they had convinced themselves Eddie was straight and therefore could have no interest in them… Eddie and Bruce were refusing to let them live it down.

And Bruce seemed to have gotten literally everyone in on the joke. Anyone Bruce hadn’t told between his partners and his massive family, Eddie had told.

Harley had begun kissing Ivy in front of them while they both traded off saying “no homo tho” between kisses until Harv(ey) groaned and left the room in a huff, leaving them both laughing maniacally.

Eddie had begun dramatically entering a room with a flourish announcing “Ladies and Gentlemen, Guys, Gals, and Non-binary pals, the straightest man alive has arrived, you may all start the party.”

Even when they first slept together, Edward had started quietly laughing and mumbling about “how straight, and very much not gay at all this occurrence was.”

Bruce hadn’t been able to look at them in weeks without breaking out into a full on belly laugh at his expense, mumbling something along the lines of “The Riddler, st r a I ght, good lord...”

On one hand they were happy Bruce was laughing more but god dammit…

They felt a bit dumb about it to say the least.

“How did we ever think Eddie was straight?” Harvey thought to himself.

“I don’t fucking know. I really… really… don’t.”