Chapter Text
“You two planned this,” Edward says flatly.
“Of course we planned this.” Bruce feigns surprise. “Oswald recommended this recital and I got us tickets.”
Indeed; the three men are perched in a private box high above the stage, watching a young brunette pianist swaying back and forth as her fingers dance across the keys. Chopin, maybe- Nocturnes?
Edward consults the program dangling loosely from his fingers. Nocturne, E-flat. Nailed it.
It’s impressive, but he's beginning to regret the whole idea entirely.
“Don’t play stupid,” he shoots back. “You’re trying to get me to sleep, aren’t you? Same way you made me eat and change my clothes.”
“You mean take care of our beloved beta because he isn’t taking care of himself?”
Warm-drowsy-soft-safe.
“I’m busy! You both know that! I’ll catch up after I’ve-“ Edward groans. “Oh, stop it.”
Warm-drowsy-soft-safe.
“Stop what?” Oswald inquires innocently.
“I know what you’re trying to do. And I have no intention of dozing off in the middle of a recital. It’s embarrassing.”
“Who said you had to doze off? We’re just trying to make you comfortable.”
“Well, stop it!”
Bruce lays his head on Edward’s shoulder. “What if we’re the ones who need comfort? Surely you wouldn’t deny us that?”
Frustration tinges the beta's fire-y pumpkin scent. “Cut it out! I said I’m not tired!”
In silent tandem, the men take a hand each, gently rubbing at Edward’s wrists until he’s not entirely certain he isn’t in danger of melting into a helpless puddle of exhaustion fatigue annoyance.
“You are very, very tired,” Oswald breathes into his ear.
“And you need to rest,” Bruce adds.
“This isn’t fair!”
“Of course it’s not.” Bruce’s blueberry-petrichor scent wafts over him, rest-rest-safe-warm-pack-pack-pack. “Now shhhh.”
“I hate you both.”
“Naturally.” Oswald’s leather-honey redolence joins the mix. Tired-so-sleepy-pack-pack-pack. “Your eyelids are drooping, by the way.”
The music glides through the stillness. Bruce’s large hand comes up to Edward’s cheek and gently pushes his head down to rest on his shoulder.
“Hey,” Edward protests.
Warm fingers begin massaging his neck. "Yes?"
“Stop it.”
“Did you hear something, Bruce?” Oswald purrs.
Bruce hums, chest vibrating lightly. “Nope.”
“...he’s going to get us for this.” Bruce’s voice sounds a long way away.
“Undoubtedly.” Oswald. Smug. “Worth it, though.”
If Bruce replies, Edward doesn’t hear it.