Work Text:
Harvey knew nothing good happened on Mondays, and he was proven right again when he looked up from his bagel to see none other than Oswald fucking Cobblepot staring him down.
“Detective,” he said with his usual simpering smile. He wore an impeccably tailored suit with a purple silk cravat. It hugged his hips and skimmed his thighs, accenting his small frame. It was a definite upgrade from his old threads.
“Cobblepot,” Harvey allowed, nodding cautiously.
“You"re looking well.” Oswald"s smile widened to an eerie grin.
“Yeah, well. Good clean living and all that.” Harvey muttered.
Cobblepot chortled, looking as pleased as if he"d told the joke himself, before looking around. “I don"t suppose your better half is on the premises today?”
“He"s on the can,” Harvey lied. “Come back later.”
Cobblepot wrinkled his nose for a split second before perching on the edge of Harvey"s desk. “I"m willing to wait,” he said, twirling his umbrella in his slim hands. They were manicured, and seeing them wrapped around the wooden handle put ideas in his head he didn’t need to have.
“It"s gonna be a while,” Harvey said. “Not enough fiber in his diet. You know how it is.”
Harvey was rewarded with a slight twitch in Cobblepot"s left eyebrow. He was considering what else he could say when Jim came out of Essen"s office.
“Speak of the devil.” Cobblepot smiled, much harder than he had for Harvey.
“What are you doing here?”
Cobblepot feigned hurt, fluttering a hand to his silk cravat. If he’d had pearls, he would have clutched them. “Do I need a reason to visit my dear friends in the police department?”
“Yes,” Jim ground out.
Cobblepot sighed. “If you say so. I do, however, have a matter I would like to discuss with you gentlemen in private.”
“What kind of matter?” Jim asked flatly.
“A proposition,” Cobblepot said, “which I think will benefit both of us greatly.”
“Not interested,” Jim said, turning to his desk.
“Gentlemen, I"m about to hand you the case of your careers,” Cobblepot said primly. “The least you can do is hear me out. When have I ever steered you wrong, Jim?”
“If we listen, will you go away?”
“Only if you still wish for me to do so.”
Cocky little son of a bitch, Harvey thought.
The worst part was, he was right.
“I don’t see why I have to wear the fuckin’ monkey suit,” Harvey complained, running a finger between his tie and his collar in a vain attempt to loosen it.
“Language,” Oswald admonished, swatting Harvey’s hand away. “And it’s not a ‘monkey suit,’ it’s a bespoke tuxedo. It’s worth more than you make in a month. You’re welcome.”
Harvey rolled his eyes and leaned back in the limo seat. At least there was booze: a twenty-year-old single malt scotch for him, and a fizzy pink cocktail for Oswald. Oswald showed no sign of embarrassment as he sipped primly.
If Oswald was right, they’d get all they needed to shut down a human trafficking ring intent on setting up shop in Gotham. All they needed was a chance to read the leader’s documents.
Which came in the form of an invitation addressed to one Oswald Cobblepot, plus escort.
Why are you helping us? Jim had asked.
I find their business distasteful, Oswald sniffed. And there’s only room for so many...entrepreneurs...in our city.
Personally, Harvey found that to be a load of bullshit, but he was willing to put that aside as long as they got the scum. Even he wasn’t willing to look the other way on trafficking.
Having finished his drink, Oswald plucked the cherry from the bottom, popping it into his mouth with a pleased sigh. His lips closed obscenely around the stem as he sucked the fruit off the pit. Harvey wondered what else that mouth could do, before telling firmly his dick to shut the hell up before it got them both in trouble.
Oswald opened his eyes, pulling the cherry stem out of his mouth. “We’re here.”
Sure enough, the limo had turned onto a long driveway and was approaching a McMansion large enough to house half the Narrows and still have room for a basketball court. It was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen, including that birthmark on Jim’s ass cheek.
When they pulled up, the driver opened the door for Oswald, ignoring Harvey, who shuffled out behind him. They were immediately met with two armed guards.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?”
Oswald flicked his gaze toward Harvey, who did his best to play the part of obedient goon by puffing out his chest and flashing their invitation at the doorman.
The doorman scrutinized it carefully before consulting his list.
“Welcome, Mr. Cobblepot,” he said, handing back the invitation without looking at Harvey. “Please let us know if you require anything tonight.”
Oswald inclined his head regally as they opened the door for him. Harvey resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he followed.
The place was filled with typical nouveau riche bullshit: lush carpets, paintings, and vases taller than Harvey’s head. Everything was edged in gold—possibly real gold, from the look of it. What use anyone could have for all of it, Harvey didn’t know, but apparently it impressed enough people that Mr. Human Trafficking felt the need to slap it everywhere. Music played from speakers somewhere far off, something trendy and electronic with a thumping bass.
They followed the music to a dimly lit ballroom turned nightclub. There looked to be over a hundred people, most of them writhing on the dance floor, a few tucked into alcoves or perched on bar stools. Everyone was dressed to the nines: women in skin-tight designer dresses with eight-inch heels; men in tuxes with the collars loose, or sheer fishnet shirts; a few servers wearing hardly anything at all. Harvey suspected there more more than a few working girls and boys in the mix. He caught a man popping two pills into his mouth, winking at his partner as he washed them down with champagne.
Harvey was certain he recognized a few from FBI bulletins. He stood a little straighter, making sure to stand close to Oswald. If he had to play bodyguard, he might as well make it look good.
“I’m feeling a bit thirsty,” Oswald said, glancing at the bar. The message was clear.
“Of course, princess,” Harvey griped.
Just playing the part, he told himself as he picked through the crowd. He felt Cobblepot’s eyes on his back and shivered.
The bar was stocked with everything imaginable, staffed with bartenders in crisp white suits. Oswald hadn’t specified, and he looked like a lightweight, so Harvey wound up ordering “the fanciest thing you’ve got without booze,” which turned out to be sparkling water with a twist of lavender and sage. He was pretty sure Oswald loved snooty shit like that.
When he spotted Oswald, he nearly dropped his drink.
A tall man was looming over Oswald, who was doing his best to meld with the wall without making it obvious. The man had one hand on the wall above Oswald’s shoulder, half-caging him in.
“Did you come here alone?” he was asking when Harvey approached. He raked his gaze up and down Cobblepot"s body, taking his sweet time about it. Harvey knew what he was seeing: pale skin, slim hips, and a soft pink mouth. There was a fine line between appreciation and being a fucking perv, though, and this guy had smashed right through it.
“Well, I—”
Before Harvey knew what he was doing, his hand settled on the stranger’s shoulder, squeezing just a bit too hard. When he whipped around, Harvey took the opportunity to slide his arm around Oswald’s waist and pull him gently to his side.
“He’s not alone,” Harvey said, pinning the man with his stare.
The creep took one look at Harvey before deciding he didn"t like what he was looking at and left.
“Feeling possessive?” Oswald asked, looking up at Harvey.
“I don"t see you stopping me,” Harvey said. “But if you want a go with that perv, be my guest. Let"s just get the intel first.”
Oswald wrapped his arms around Harvey’s neck, standing up on his toes to whisper in his ear.
“You know, this wasn’t part of the plan, but posing as a couple? It might work.”
“Yeah?” Harvey asked, wrapping his other arm around Oswald’s waist. He tried not to think about the body under Oswald’s tux, and failed.
“I suspect we wouldn’t be the only guests looking for somewhere...private.”
“Absolutely, sweetheart.” Harvey made a show of nuzzling Oswald’s hair. “Shall we?”
They split apart long enough for Harvey to hand Oswald his drink, which he downed in one gulp and discarded. Then he tucked himself under Harvey’s arm, slowly leading them to the exit. They must have been reasonably convincing, because no one shot them a second glance.
Oswald’s intel had suggested a back staircase that would get them reasonably close to Smith’s office. Apparently the guy had invested pretty heavily in security outside the mansion, but both the staircase and the hallway were empty. It took them a few minutes to find the office, but it was easy enough that Harvey was starting to feel uneasy. He stood at the door while Oswald began searching.
“What are you even looking for?”
“My source says he has some damning correspondence,” Oswald said, bending over to rifle through the desk.
“Language,” Harvey chided.
Oswald shot him a glare through thick eyelashes, still bent over the desk. Harvey couldn’t help but enjoy the sight, even as Oswald snipped, “It’s hardly the same thing.”
“Whatever you say, doll.”
Oswald shot him another prissy look before digging through the desk.
“I’m surprised you didn’t threaten to feed that guy his own intestines,” Harvey said conversationally.
“He caught me off guard,” Oswald said. “I wasn’t...expecting that.”
“To get hit on while you’re looking like that?”
Oswald flushed, his hands gripping a folder tightly. “Looking like what?”
“Like you’d look even better with your ankles around my neck,” Harvey said before he could stop himself.
Oswald looked up, raising a brow. “I’d rather have you tied to a chair.”
All the blood in Harvey’s head rushed to his cock, and he swallowed hard.
Thankfully, Oswald found the documents before Harvey could respond, and he was more interested in using Harvey’s phone to snap pics. It wasn’t enough to put him away, but it was definitely enough to light fires under some asses. They were just beginning to put the files away when Harvey’s ears caught a sound from the hallway.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Oswald slid the files back into their places, then reached up to muss Harvey’s hair. Harvey was about to complain before Oswald pushed him onto the desk, crawled into his lap, and pulled him into a hard kiss.
Fuck, Oswald’s lips were soft. He grabbed him around the waist, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Oswald’s teeth sank into his lower lip, and Harvey groaned against his mouth.
The door creaked open behind them, and Harvey’s brain caught up with his cock.
“Excuse—oh, god,” someone said behind him.
Harvey smirked against Oswald’s neck.
“Oh—my apologies!” Oswald said. “We didn’t expect anyone to be, ah…”
“Uh, yeah,” the guard said. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave the office, but there are, uh… guest rooms down the hall.”
“Lovely!” Oswald said, grinning. “We’ll just, ah… compose ourselves.”
“Right,” the guard said.
After the door shut, Harvey found himself giggling like a high schooler.
“I wish I’d seen the look on his face.”
Oswald smirked, not leaving his spot on Harvey’s lap. Harvey found himself holding very still and hoping Oswald didn’t notice the tent he was pitching.
“I suppose we should leave before he talks to someone,” Oswald said.
“Right.”
Oswald stared at him for a long moment as if wondering why Harvey wasn’t getting up when he had a lapful of psychotic mobster, but finally he took the hint and hopped off of Harvey’s lap, walking away without a single glance behind him.
By the time they got to the limo, Harvey’s erection had mostly subsided. Oswald looked for all the world as if he hadn’t hopped into Harvey’s lap and shoved his tongue down his throat. Harvey had to hand it to him, the man could play it cool when he wanted to. He just never seemed to want to.
Once they were moving, Oswald turned to face him.
“I can have the driver drop you off at your place,” he said, “or he can drop you off at mine.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m hardly going to kidnap you, Detective.”
“But you’d like to tie me up.”
Something dark flared in Oswald’s eyes, and he leaned closer, whispering in Harvey’s ear.
“It’s more fun if you ask for it,” he said, breath hot against his skin.
“In that case, why wait until we get there? It’s a long drive.”
With a wicked grin, Oswald climbed into his lap again, dragging him by the tie for another kiss. Harvey pulled him close, smiling against his mouth. Oswald’s clever fingers worked the tie from around his neck, pulling it out from the collar.
“If things get out of the hand, say…hmm... ‘Gordon.’ ” Oswald ordered, pulling Harvey’s hands up to rest against the headrest.
“That’s the least sexy thing I can think of,” Harvey argued as Oswald wound the tie around his wrists.
“That’s the point. Wiggle your fingers?”
Harvey obeyed, and that seemed to satisfy Oswald, though he ordered him to say something if his hands started to go numb.
This is a terrible idea , Harvey told himself. His cock didn’t seem to care about any of that, though, and honestly he was too curious and turned on to care.
Satisfied now that Harvey was trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey, Oswald climbed back into his lap, nuzzling his neck. His hands opened Harvey’s dress shirt, sliding inside to cop a feel. Harvey hissed when he brushed against his nipple.
“Sensitive,” Oswald murmured, pushing his undershirt up for more access.
Then he leaned down and licked one, and Harvey groaned and writhed against the seat. His hands itched to pull Oswald closer, but they were trapped beside his head. When Oswald bit down, Harvey’s whole body jerked, nearly unseating Oswald, who just smirked and came back up for a kiss. Harvey groaned into his mouth.
“I could just leave you like this,” Oswald murmured against his lips. “Leave you bound and wanting until the driver opens the door and sees you like this.”
Harvey knew what the driver would see: shirt open, undershirt pushed high up his chest, cock still achingly hard in his pants while Oswald sat there, perfectly composed from his slicked-back hair to his shining boots. Fuck, Harvey wanted to mess him up.
“How long has it been since someone fucked you good and hard, though, sweetheart?” Harvey nuzzled the side of Oswald’s neck. “I’ve got a good cock. Why not use it to make yourself feel good? You’ve got me tied up and ready for you, why not take advantage?”
“You make a convincing argument,” Oswald considered, grinding his hips down against him and making him moan. “Can you really live up to that promise, though?”
“That and more, sweetheart. Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
Oswald kissed him again, soft and dirty, reaching down to open Harvey’s pants. His fingers wrapped around him with a practiced touch.
“Not bad,” Oswald murmured, squeezing. Harvey moaned into his mouth.
He stroked Harvey’s cock lightly as they kissed, enough to make it hard to breathe but not enough for relief. Harvey surged forward, the silk tie digging into his wrists, but it just made Oswald laugh and give his cock a condescending pat before letting go.
“Who do you think is in charge here, Detective?” Oswald asked, pinching one of his nipples hard. Harvey yelped, squirming in his seat.
“You are,” he panted, before he could stop himself.
“Good boy.” Oswald leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips.
Sliding off Harvey’s lap, Oswald began to shimmy out of his clothes, leaving the backseat littered with black and purple silk. Harvey drank in every inch of smooth, creamy skin he revealed. Oswald’s skin was peppered with scars, from small slices to deep, twisted furrows. Harvey wanted to cover each of them with his mouth. Oswald was nearly hairless, except for a dusting of chest hair and a neat little thatch around his cock. Harvey’s mouth watered at the sight of it, half hard and flushed red just for him.
Oswald produced a condom and lube from a compartment next to the drinks, and Harvey huffed a laugh, though he wasn’t complaining. Nothing worse than having to stop the party because you were short-handed. For a moment, he wondered how many men Oswald had fucked in the back of his limo, but damn if that was any of his business.
“You’ve promised me a good time, Detective,” Oswald said as he rolled the condom onto Harvey’s cock. “I expect you to keep that promise.”
“I’ll give you everything you need and more, gorgeous.”
“You’re cocky for a man who can’t use his hands.”
“Just try me, doll.”
Oswald spread the lube over Harvey’s cock, then reached behind himself. Harvey craned his neck, trying to get a view, but Oswald just smirked as he got himself into position over Harvey’s lap.
Oswald took him slowly, so slowly it barely felt like he was moving, drawing Harvey into his heat. Harvey itched to grab him by the hips, steady him, pull him faster, but Oswald took his time. Finally he bottomed out, his ass flush against Harvey’s thighs, and gave a little squeeze that made Harvey groan.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he whispered.
Oswald nuzzled his cheek, moving his hips in slow circles. It was perfect. It wasn’t enough. It was all he would get, unless Oswald took pity on him. Harvey’s nails dug into his palms.
Finally Oswald lifted himself up before sliding back down again, rubbing his cock against Harvey’s expensive dress shirt. A flush was blooming on his cheeks as worked himself on Harvey’s cock, taking exactly what he wanted.
“You like that?” Harvey asked. “You look so fucking good on my cock.”
Oswald whimpered, picking up his pace, and Harvey knew he was onto something.
“You’re so fucking tight. God, I just want to spread you open and eat you up, you know that? Open you up with my lips and tongue until you scream for me to fuck you. I bet you taste as pretty as you look, don’t you?”
Oswald leaned forward to sink his teeth into Harvey’s shoulder. Harvey’s hips twitched upwards, and they both groaned.
“That’s right, sweetheart, fuck yourself on my dick. And next time? I’m going to fuck you through the mattress like you deserve.”
By now Oswald was bouncing on his dick, one hand braced against the seat, the other stroking his pretty little cock.
“God, I’d love to suck you off,” Harvey said, staring down at where Oswald’s hand worked his own cock. “Swallow you root to tip. I can deepthroat like a champ, y’know that? I’d let you fuck my face, and then I’d turn you over and fuck you even harder.”
Oswald clapped a hand against his own mouth, trying to stifle the desperate noises that were coming out of him, but he didn’t slow down in his movements.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” Harvey urged. “Come all over me.”
Because Harvey wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last with the noises Oswald was making. It seemed to work, though, because Oswald sped up, slamming himself onto Harvey’s cock like his life depended on it, his fist a blur over his cock. Harvey helped as best he could, planting his feet on the floor of the limo and driving up into Oswald’s tight heat.
Finally Oswald sank down on his cock with a high-pitched whine, shooting pearly white come all over his fist and Harvey’s clothes. He settled against Harvey’s chest with a sigh, boneless and fucked-out and still too pretty.
Harvey took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax as Oswald sagged against him, still speared on his aching cock. Each little movement tested his patience, and he found himself clenching his hands hard around the headrest.
Finally Oswald looked up. “Ah. I see you have a little...problem, there.”
“Who’re you calling little?”
Oswald chuckled, patting his cheek. “No one.”
He squeezed down hard around Harvey’s cock, making him groan and swear under his breath.
“I’ll let you come if you ask nicely.”
“What counts as nicely?” Harvey asked.
Oswald lifted himself delicately off Harvey’s lap, sliding to the floor of the limo.
“You can start by saying please,” he suggested, blowing gently on Harvey’s cock.
“Nnngh—please!” Harvey cried as Oswald peeled the condom off. “Please, please. Fuck!”
Oswald leaned forward, gliding his hands up Harvey’s thighs. “I suppose that will do.”
His lips closed around the head of Harvey’s cock, enveloping him in sweet wetness. Harvey fought to keep his hips still as Oswald’s tongue traced wicked patterns along the underside. He somehow managed to look prissy even when sucking cock, with his mouth wide and eyelashes dark against his cheeks.
“Jesus christ,” Harvey muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
Oswald sucked hard, following his motions with his fist when he couldn’t fit all of Harvey in, though he tried—oh, fuck , he tried, so wet and messy around him.
“Shit, I’m gonna—”
Oswald growled, sucking harder, and that sound alone was enough to make him come with a low groan. Oswald swallowed every drop, looking every bit like the cat that got the cream, and wiped his mouth daintily when he pulled off.
Afterwards Harvey all but collapsed against the seat, sagging against his restraints as Oswald undid the knots and laid Harvey against his chest.
“You did very well,” Oswald said, running a hand down his back. “Are your hands alright?”
“Yeah,” Harvey panted, gripping one of Oswald’s hips. It was smooth and plush, with just enough give to it. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Oh, here and there. Perhaps I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
Harvey tucked his head under Oswald’s chin, feeling surprisingly comfortable. This was probably the stupidest decision he and his dick had ever made, but it wasn’t like he could un-fuck Oswald Cobblepot, so he might as well enjoy it.
“Think you’ll be up for another round later?” Oswald asked.
“You trying to kill me, kid?”
“If you’re not up to the challenge…”
Harvey surged up, pinning Oswald below him and kissing him hard. They both groaned, gripping at each other’s clothing, and he felt Oswald’s cock twitch against his thigh.
“I’m up for anything,” Harvey said.
Oswald chuckled, and they relaxed against the limo seat, content to lay there and enjoy each other’s heat as they rode into Gotham.