icebergloungers | Irgendwann laufen wir zusammen

"Pier. That's where Falcone dumps the bodies." Edward gave the information without really thinking about it, because he was mesmerized by Jonathan's eyes, feeling drawn in in a way he could not quite explain. He laughed again, a slightly breathless sound. He might not have taken anything, but what Jonathan was suggesting was enough to make his heart beat faster. "Are you an utter moron? No one just goes to talk to Falcone. You can go talk to someone ten rungs lower down the ladder before you do that."

Lil country bumpkin from the South, off to talk to the big mob boss? Edward had his doubts. "What, Jonny, are you suicidal? Because, trust me, there's easier ways to kill yourself off."

"Yeah but easy is boring, son. You know that. Why would you do the boring thing? If you're gonna die and, let's face it, we're gonna, why not do it in the most difficult and awkward way?" Jonathan leaned forward and suddenly, he was kissing Edward. Yeah, he was queer and he didn't fucking care if Edward had a girlfriend or was straight. He wanted his first kiss, even if he had to take it rather than ask for it. Pulling back, he moved a little away from Edward but stayed up close to him, talking quietly. "Don Falcone has his office upstairs and he's there tonight. You can tell. Look at all the guards. I heard rumours Victor Zsasz was here and he wouldn't be here if the don wasn't."

Jonathan giggled to himself and then pulled back, looking at Edward as e straighten himself up. "I could be the best dealer in Gotham and I'm cheap to hire but I turn a profit. I want to produce drugs, I want to make people feel what I want them to feel, I want that control. I want the power. It's mine, Ed. All I need is a backer and it's fucking mine. And maybe, just maybe, he'll just shoot me in the head but ain't that shit better than going to school every day, doing fuck all?"

It probably said a handful of not so good things about Edward that the thought of not kissing back never even occurred to it. He was right there and ready to chase that kiss, if it wasn't for Jonathan talking about Don Falcone again. Mentioning Zsasz as if it was nothing, apparently having actually planned this. He had to laugh again, from nerves if nothing else, listening to Edward and shaking his head. "They're not gonna... You're too young!"

Was that really so difficult to understand? Maybe it didn't matter in certain circles, under specific circumstances, but with Don Falcone? Not exactly someone who thought that far outside the box. "If you get shot in the head, what a waste!" He cupped the back of Jonathan's head now, as if that could save him. "Two more years of school, big deal."

He felt called out, even realising that Jonathan likely didn't mean it. Edward knew he was biding time, because he felt trapped at home. Too scared to change things. Fear had never given him super confidence, he had no idea what was happening with Jonathan in contrast.

"Cause I can't do it, Ed. I can't-- I can't-- no, it's not fucking fair. Cause I'm sixteen, I gotta wait around? I'll dead in a couple of years anyway, I can feel it. I waste my fucking time not doing what I gotta now. It's a waste. I need..." He needed the power. The control. He needed an out from his father before his father put his plans into action. He moved to Gotham for a reason and Jonathan hated it, he hated that he couldn't control what would happen and he felt like all roads led to a dead end. Falcone was a way out. Money, power, control. He needed the control.

And yeah, it was insane and unlikely, probably impossible, but he was desperate. "It's a shot in the dark but I ain't got better ahead of me. Edward, you don't know me! Why do you care? Let me go. Let me try."

Let him get shot in the head and dumped off a pier. It was no big loss. "Cause if I don't try, I go home. I go home to him and he wins. He wins every fucking time. I want to win, Edward. Don't you? Don't you know that feeling?"

"You can't even pronounce his fucking name right, you loon." Edward ran his fingers through Jonathan's hair. Damn, he must have been sweating a lot for a while now. Still smelled good though. What a thought to have. He snorted at himself, then tried to catch Jonathan's eyes. "Of course I know you. Anyway, even if I didn't, is there a law against caring? I could care just because you're a good kisser. I could care because you're interesting, because I think you could be great one day."

Right now? He was not so sure.

But going home and winning. Damn. "I know the feeling. There's no winning though, is there? Nothing that he will recognise. Nothing that will settle in your own mind." Could not defeat his big fear, could not help what it did to him, no matter how powerful his mind might be.

"No but I'd have cash and I could get my own place, could beat him in his game, could be better." Jonathan patted himself down and then produced the wad of money he'd made tonight, offering it out to Edward. "See, look, people want my shit. I could do well. I got a future, maybe, a real good one but I gotta get there and I don't fancy my odds."

Jonathan wanted more than anything to go up there and fight for a job but he knew that Falcone didn't think much of the freaks in Gotham and odds are, it would be suicide. And Jonathan was, unfortunately, suicidal in so many ways.

"What do I do if I don't go up there, Ed? What's the play? Sell it to me." He wanted Edward to make him want to live. To not go up there and kill himself.

"Not die," Edward presented, much in a tone that would have befitted a 'duh'. Still, he realised what was happening here, there was a matter of Jonathan wanting a ledge and needing to be talked off of it. Should he be this invested? Likely not, but his lips still tasted of whatever Jonathan had drunk - his guess was on bourbon - and he thought about what he knew of Jonathan. Which, despite what Jonathan wanted to believe, was really quite a lot.

"Let me show you that Korean fried chicken place. Gonna transform your life, I promise. Let me kiss you properly." He smiled, a bit too wide, a little too eager to get through to Jonathan, but how could he help it? "You want to make a life in Gotham, you first have to actually know Gotham. I know the city. Trust me, Falcone isn't the way of the future. You like birds, don't you know they used to watch birds to predict the future, back before ancient Rome? Auguries. The time of the falcon is drawing closer to the end. Flightless bird in the future. Trust me."

He ran a hand along the side of Jonathan's face. "I can show you that. I can show you more. I can tell you how this city ticks and I can find new ways to thrill you."

"Fuck." So he had to back down? All that energy and nowhere to go. Well, he supposed he was going to eat chicken so ... whatever. Jonathan inhaled slowly and then rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few moments to recenter before nodding sheepishly. Then he looked at Edward again and sighed, not sure why he wasn't dying tonight but he guessed that was the decision he had made. "Let's do it then. Let's go."

He stood up, a little shaky on his feet - one was not supposed to drink when high on this shit but Jonathan always did his own thing. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Edward.

"At least I made cash tonight." So there was that. "I like birds too."

"Of course you do. Best damn crow sound I've ever heard." Outside of actual crows. Maybe even included, honestly. He found it a difficult metric to judge. Edward reached for Jonathan's hand, pulling him along, his grip firm. He could tell that Jonathan was far from steady right now, so leading him seemed like the way to go. "You've made my night a lot more exciting, I can tell you that much."

He laughed, a bit breathless, then took a deep breath as they got out of the club. He pushed his hair back from his face with his free hand, looking at Jonathan from the side. "You kiss a lot when high? I've got that issue too." High or not high.

"You're my first kiss, I think." Jonathan was like 99.9% sure that Edward was the first person he ever kissed. He frowned and then shrugged. "You don't go around kissing boys in Georgia. I was already the ugly queer boy, I weren't gonna make it worse by adding pervert to my list. Besides, my father, he's a real God fearer. He won't be happy." If he ever found out. Jonathan doubted he would, he'd have to engage with the world and that would never happen. Not as long as he lived, he'd never see it.

"I guess I always wondered and I figured that if you punched me, it's no big loss. I was gonna die anyway." Edward was his only option for a gay kiss in that moment. And not a bad option either. He was handsome - and trouble. He knew he was hot, those sort of people were always the worst. "Don't read into it, I'm really high."

"I'm not that big on punching. I'll slap a guy though." Just seemed like less danger for his hand, honestly. He was still looking at Jonathan, even as he led the way through an alleyway, not too worried about getting robbed. Neither of them looked as if they had money. "I'm gonna read into it. You like me."

He was making the claim and sticking to it. "Whatever you were in Georgia, here you are fascinating and fucking hot. Love the accent, love the kinky vibes. Now I love your lips as well."

There was something that'd be difficult to get out of his mind. Perhaps that was why he decided to suddenly stop, shove Jonathan against the nearest wall, pull him down with his arms around his neck and kiss him again.

Jonathan didn't like it. Edward pushing him. Edward kissing him. Edward doing it. Jonathan changed them around swiftly so he had Edward pinned against the wall. Once he had him against the wall, he looked at him for a few moments and then kissed him back. He worked his way down, kissing Edward's neck and then sucking it, biting it, marking it. He wanted his marks on Edward. He wanted him. And he was high enough to not care if this contradicted what he said.

Once he was done, he pulled back and smiled at Edward. He let out a funny little sound and then turned away, shaking his head with a smile. And then he was walking.

"I've never had Korean chicken before. Is it good?"

All right. All right, all right, all right, this was really fucking hot. Edward breathed through his nose while Jonathan marked him, frozen in place with his fingertips against the brick of the wall, too overwhelmed by sensations and emotions to do anything other than give himself over to both completely. Not exactly a great response when it came to survival skills, but it was really all he could do.

Maybe it was a good thing Jonathan moved away when he could, because Edward was fairly sure he had been about half a second from a whimper. As it was, he managed to swallow it down, running all ten fingers through his hair, clearing his throat and walking next to Jonathan. "Oh yeah. It's like crack. Especially at that place. Second best thing to come out of the Narrows."

"Then take me, I'm curious." Jonathan walked next to Edward, oblivious, not aware of the full impact he had. He just did what he wanted because he felt like it and he was high enough to not be afraid. Besides, Edward had accepted one kiss, he was sure he'd accept much else. "I hope your girlfriend won't mind. We can keep this shit between us, we don't gotta tell a soul."

He wouldn't out Edward for his queerness or his cheating, Jonathan wanted to keep it a secret too. He wasn't exactly eager to share this sort of thing around.

"I never talk to anyone anyway."

"I talk to everyone." Edward wasn't going to lie about that. "And my girlfriend... Look, Jonny, haven't we been over that? I don't ever wanna be a boyfriend. Echo knows me. Echo's just dating me to save her reputation." Kind of, anyway. "Not that different from what you're saying. God-fearing parents. See, my girl loves girls. And boys."

With a shrug and a wink, he took Jonathan's hand again, clearly not fearing any consequences here. "Love is not a choice."

He felt that was clear enough, no matter how high Jonathan was.

"So it's all a fucking game. Figures. Well. I don't want to play in that sense, you know? This wasn't a thing I'll do again, I'm just high and bored. And you're handsome. Which I loathe telling you, you'll never let that one go. Feeds the ego, don't it?" Jonathan teased as they walked out onto the street. He looked around and waited for Edward to lead the way, following idly behind him. Korean chicken was a weird way to end this evening but fine, he was pretty hungry.

"You know, love isn't what I'm ever gonna look for so I don't care what it is. I just don't want it. I like to kiss though, I like to mark, I like to hold you against the wall and take what I want. That's all I know." And he may not want to ever do it again bit it was fun. He was glad he did it.

Even if he'd only done it once, it was enough.

"Yeah? You like all of that, but you don't want to play?" Edward wasn't buying it. Not one bit. Although he could believe that Jonathan was convinced of his own words. However, he was beginning to think that Jonathan wasn't overly aware of himself, which he found very entertaining. They were close to the shop, so Edward turned around to move in front of Jonathan and stop him, putting his hands against his chest and making a point of looking up at him. "Think that's not the only thing you like."

His mind was connecting. The way Jonathan talked about chemistry. Manufacturing drugs, Suggesting anxiety medication. The high of fear and the excitement of watching those people. Creepy, wasn't it? Edward bit down on his lower lip, then he swallowed. He closed his eyes for a moment and his breath hitched. Pulling up his fear response was not difficult, it turned out, up to and including widened eyes when he opened them again, another hitch in breath ending in a convincingly involuntary gasp and then a quiet whimper that he cut off by pressing his face against Jonathan's chest, shaking a little as he hid against him.

Jesus fucking Christ.

God give him strength. He hated that it worked. He hated that he got hard, that he felt his pulse race and his heart clench. He hated that the noises were all he wanted to hear. He fucking hated that Edward had done it, he'd cracked it. He had fucking worked him out. Jonathan put both hands on Edward and pulled him away, looking into his eyes as he faked fear and -- hell, he was good at it. He just wasn't dilated enough in the eyes. Pity but close enough. Most would never know. "And the Oscar goes to..."

Jonathan sighed and then reached out, cupping one side of Edward's face and forcing him to look at him. "You really wanna play that bad? Come on, Ed. Have dignity."

"Fuck dignity." Edward laughed, clearly entirely shameless about this performance, "I just want that dick."

Well, he could feel it right there, hard against him. Difficult to ignore, not that he was trying to. Maybe he'd have pushed further, poked a little more, played a bit harder, but he heard the door open and close not far from them and so he shrugged, deciding to move things to later. Someone had just walked out of the chicken place and now Edward was holding open the door for Jonathan to walk in. "Smells great, doesn't it?"

"Hey, Ed." Delite was sitting on the counter, which was probably not the most hygienic, especially given his current hair length. Whatever. "Who's your friend?"

"That's Jonathan. Look." Speaking of his lack of dignity or shame, Edward just turned his head to show off his neck.

Delite whistled, giving a thumbs up. "Good job. Want to eat something proper, Jonathan?"

Jonathan chose to ignore Edward. He was high and a little drunk so he just focused on reading the menu so he didn't respond at all to Delite, despite him addressing Jonathan by name.

"Eddie! Eddie-Weddie. Love of my live, king of my heart. Is that you, dear?" Jack came around the corner, grinning at Edward brightly. His grin was a little gnarly these days, he had a slight incident in a fight a year back where one side of his face got sliced. So, naturally, he slit the other end to even it out. The scarring was a lot more muted than expected but when he smiled, it really fucking showed. "Hey, sweetum. What you want? The usual? Oh. Newbie?"

Jack gestured at Jonathan, who was still staring at the menu intensely. He turned to Delite and shrugged. "I like him already. He has a vibe. Doesn't he have a vibe?"

"A family bucket is 14 pieces. Huh. I'll take ... three." Jonathan held out his wad of cash to Delite, finally looking at him. "And whatever Ed wants."

"He's treating me. He says he doesn't want love, but then he does all that and has that accent, how can I not swoon?" Edward leaned a little against Jonathan, but kept from wrapping an arm around him for the moment. No need to push too much. "That's Jon, Jack, he's my country boy. And yeah, just get me the usual. ...once."

Delite was looking Jonathan over, arching his eyebrows. "Wow. Love a man who can eat." He grinned, taking Jonathan's money and then getting off the counter so he could put the side dishes in the tubs. The one thing he did to not be entirely useless in the kitchen.

"I've been telling Jonny here all about you, Jack. Y'see, I think he'll fit in just fine around here." And that feeling was only increasing.

"I mean he's here at 11pm, ordering three buckets of family chicken and he's high off his head. Friend, you'll be very happy here. Gotham is made for weirdos." Jack grinned and then started to prepare the chicken, tossing what he needed to into the fryer before he leaned back on the counter, watching Jonathan just let himself be touched and talked about by Edward with little care. "You like Gotham, Jon?"

"I like the dark and the drugs. Fucking hate the weather." Jonathan didn't mind it being cold but the rain was a real bitch. He really needed a waterproof coat. "Yesterday a man dressed as a clown stole my sandwich and promptly got run over by a police car so... I ain't bored."

"Oh yeah, that was Max. Friend of mine. He's still alive. I think." Jack shrugged. "I don't care. Whatever. EDDIE! What's new with you, other than the friend? How's school? Do they miss me?"

He wondered if his loss was deeply felt.

"Of course I miss you," Edward told him and it wasn't even a lie, weirdly enough. Just wasn't the same without Jack. He looked at Jonathan, lifting a shoulder a little in a shrug. "Jack got expelled for almost killing me, did I tell you that?" Might have been worth a mention.

"Shouldn't mack on Mister J's girl," Delite added helpfully, while he put all the little tubs on the counter, belatedly realising that he could have just combined all of Jonathan's into one big tub. Whatever. "Hey, Jon, you're from the South, so do we go proper spicy with you or white spicy, like riddle boy?"

"Fuck you," Edward said in a friendly tone, propping his chin up on Jonathan's shoulder, because apparently he got to. "I think he can handle the heat."

"Yeah, well, it was a moment of impulse. He hurt me, I had to hurt him."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at the two and then looked between them. Edward always spoke about Jack like he was a good friend and yet, he had tried to kill him and got his ass expelled. Interesting. "What exactly did you do to him to get expelled?"

"I tried to drown him in the fountain. You know the one in the courtyard. They put the barrier up after me. I tried to drown Ed and when the teacher came to stop me, I drop kicked him. Shattered his skull. Yikes!" Jack giggled excitedly as he took the first lot of chicken out and then started up two more baskets so the rest of the order would be done.

"Charming." Jonathan added as he slipped away from Ed and he came over to the counter, then smiled politely at Delite. "The hotter, the better, son. Thank you kindly. And could you add a coke as well, I'm a little dehydrated."

Jack slid the seasoning over to Delite and then pointed at Jonathan, mouthing to Edward. So Sexy!

Delite blushed, giggled and looked adorable, which Edward felt was a little much coming from that little shit, but what was he supposed to do about it? He supposed Jack really did have a type. He tossed the finished chicken in the right seasoning, doing Jon's first lot first and handing it to him, before also getting him a coke. "You look dehydrated. What are you on, sexy?"

"Keep it in your pants, Delite." Ed decided to be possessive, after having mouthed an I KNOW to Jack. He waited to get his order, then picked the table closest to the counter to sit at, assuming Jonathan would join him. "Murder attempts are how relationships are forged in this city, honestly. I like to think that Jack maybe would have stopped before I was dead." Well, he could hope.

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