Numb My Heart (Oswald Cobblepot/Victor Fries (Mr. Freeze)
Oswald finds cold comfort in the arms of one of his newest allies: Victor Fries aka Mr. Freeze. | Read on AO3
oneshot: 1575 words | warnings: mature content, rated NC-17
A big thank you goes to Kris for being my beta reader and for introducing me to this wonderfully strange little pairing. Also credit goes to the wonderful languageofbirds for providing fandom with the amazing idea of a temperature-regulating tea to get things... going between Freeze and Oswald.
Originally, Oswald's plan had merely consisted of getting Freeze to join his team.
But things had happened: a too-long-lingering gaze here, a prickling-cold touch there.
Eventually Oswald had found himself in increasingly intimate positions with Freeze.
Oswald isn't even surprised when it happens the first time. He hasn't been himself lately, almost drowning in the thick mixture of blind hatred along with the fiery-hot need for revenge - as well as a utterly broken and shattered heart.
Nygma.
Ed.
Oswald knows he's sought Freeze's companionship as some sort of stress relief. Because the icy-cold numbness spreading through him wasn't just restricted to his body - it helped a great deal with freezing his feelings as well.
"You're so warm," Victor groans, blue chapped lips grazing over the small bit of exposed skin on Oswald's chest. "Can't get enough of you."
Oswald resists the urge to roll his eyes. Jaw tense and brows furrowed, he spreads his thighs in hopes to give Freeze a hint of what he came here for originally.
This - gentle kissing, exploring each other - is not it.
It's something he would've loved to do with Ed. Back then, when his heart had still been intact.
Oswald squeezes his eyes shut, a small noise forming in the back of his throat as Victor's cool tongue begins to flick over his nipple.
No. He doesn't want this.
It should've been Ed.
He was the only one.
"Stop-" he finally says, squirming beneath the taller man.
Freeze pinches his brows together in a frown. "What? Is it too cold?" he asks, lips splitting into a grin.
This time, Oswald rolls his eyes.
"Just fuck me."
Freeze doesn't seem unhappy with that decision at all, grin stretching further. "As you wish, Ozzie."
With an exasperated sigh, Oswald rolls over onto his stomach, lifting his hips to assist Freeze who's pulling his pants down.
Oswald presses his body flat against his warmed up mattress, grimacing as a shower of goosebumps unfurls on his skin at the first contact of Victor's piercing cold fingers against his hole.
"W-wait," Oswald grits out, squirming away from the touch.
"Yeah, yeah-- sorry," Freeze mumbles before pressing a quick kiss onto the nape of Oswald's neck - causing another shudder.
He gets up from the bed, bare feet tapping against the wooden floor as he walks over to the small round coffee table in the corner of Oswald's bedroom.
It's occupied by a vase with lillies and - in these days more often - also a murky looking bottle full with a dark green liquid.
It’s a liquid he’s gotten Ivy to make for him - or, well, for Victor. A herbal asset to regulate the man’s body temperature to a normal level - even if only temporarily until the effects would subdue.
Oswald however never wants Freeze to get too warm - too human. Because there’s
a fear inside him, that it might feel too comfortable - too safe, just like it once had felt with Ed.
After taking a couple of sips, Victor's skin slowly begins to fade into something that almost resembles that of a normal human being, yet still remaining extraordinarily pale.
Oswald tries his best not to ogle, but Victor is naked after all. And he really doesn’t have it in him to tear his gaze away from the well-built body just a few feet away from him.
Especially not from Freeze’s very impressive cock.
And despite the coldness of Victor’s touch still lingering on his skin, Oswald feels a sudden rush of warmth flooding him, gut squeezing tight at the mere thought of that cock being inside of him again.
Right on cue, Victor places the now half-empty bottle back onto the table and shoots him a grin before he makes his way back to the bed.
The mattress dips. “Better?" Victor asks, placing his hand on the narrow curve of Oswald's hip.
"Yes," Oswald replies but not without a small hiss at the touch.
It's still cold. But in a way Oswald can endure; where he can still find pleasure without it feeling too good.
Victor gives his hip a small squeeze before pulling away. Moments later, Oswald’s ears perk at the familiar sound of a bottle cap popping open.
It’s time. He presses his lips together, spreading his legs as far as he can without causing himself too much pain - and there it is.
A small gasp escapes Oswald when Victor’s finger, cold and now slick with lube, enters him. His first instinct is to press his thighs together and push the other man off him, no matter how often they’ve done it at this point.
But like always, Oswald manages to remain calm, gripping the sheets until his knuckles have turned white. His reward comes soon after, once his body has grown accustomed to the odd intrusion - little sparks of pleasure that rush through him and the familiar sensation of tingling warmth that begins to pool in his belly,
“Stop- that’s enough,“ Oswald huffs out, cheeks glowing pink and cock throbbing from where it’s trapped between his stomach and the mattress.
“Okay,“ Victor breathes, quickly withdrawing his finger and reaching for the bottle of lube anew. Oswald keeps looking over his shoulder, eyes drawn to the thick length of Victor’s cock, now glistening wet with lube.
The mattress dips a little as Victor positions himself, cock in his hand and nudging against the small tight ring of muscle nestled between Oswald’s cheeks.
The stretch when Victor begins to push inside is almost too much for a moment, and Oswald can’t help but drop his mouth open in a stuttered gasp, followed by a whimper.
“That’s it,“ Victor groans above him, fingers digging into the flesh of his hip as he eases the whole dripping-cold length of his cock inside. “Fuck- so tight.“
Oswald moans weakly, ass throbbing around the wide blunt stretch, coldness numbing but also piercing through him once Victor is buried all the way inside of him.
“Oswald- fuck, so damn tight,“ Victor pants, running his hands over Oswald’s arched back in a soothing gesture. “So good.“
Oswald can do nothing but whine softly at the praise, a part of him trying to dig up the many many fantasies he’s had about Ed doing this to him, about Ed praising him like this - thankfully, he doesn’t get to dwell on that for much longer.
“A-ah,“ Oswald cries, eyes widening when Victor begins to move his hips, mixing the cool slick drag of his cock with brisk heat that flares up inside of him with every thrust.
“Yes, that’s it, take it,“ Victor growls, and that’s Oswald’s favorite part. The part where he can forget just everything.
Victor presses him down into the mattress, hips snapping forward almost feverishly, both of them yearning to reach the maximum of pleasure.
For Oswald it’s this - getting fucked face down by a strong man, allowing himself to just let go. It’s an incredibly vulnerable position to be in, and a risk comes with that, Oswald knows that.
But he also knows that Victor is just as desperate as him, having lived the past months in absolute isolation and with a heart just as battered as his.
They both need each other.
So, screw it.
“Ugh- fuck, yes, god, you take it so good,“ Victor moans, pounding into Oswald in earnest now, the sound of their skin smacking together mixing with small mewls and cries Oswald no longer tries to hold back.
In the end, words begin to bubble out of him, words Oswald usually keeps hidden in the darkest most secrets parts of him.
“Fuck me yes- harder. Victor, come on, fuck me, fuck me-”
And for a moment, Oswald’s mind slips - to a place it shouldn’t go.
Ed.
Everything inside of Oswald squeezes tight, heart pounding quick and heat surging through his veins and down to his ass and cock and balls - fiery hot.
“Ed…“
Oswald comes with a hoarse scream then, clamping down around the cold thick length inside of him while his own cock pulses, spilling all over his stomach and soaking the mattress below him.
“Fuck- fuck-” Victor comes with a loud groan, pressing his cold damp forehead against Oswald’s neck as his hips stutter and he presses in deep, filling Oswald with dripping-cold come.
Oswald’s whole face twists with discomfort, body shuddering and squirming as the numbing coldness seeps through him.
Along with the shame. The shame of what he’s allowed himself to think, to feel, to say.
He barely registers Victor pulling out of him, nor the thick blanket being draped over his shivering body.
“You want something to drink? Or eat? Maybe some warm soup?“
Oswald blinks, lids heavy and chest clenching. “What?“
Victor, sitting at the edge of the bed, gives a little shrug and grins. “I guess you could use something to warm you up after…you know.“
Oswald squints his eyes in annoyance, but there’s a small smile tugging on his lips now as well. He tries to get rid of it by pouting, which only seems to amuse Freeze more than anything.
After a short moment, Oswald finally gives in. “Fine, okay,“ he mumbles, rolling his eyes and pulling the covers up to his chin. “Bring me a Hot Cocoa. With an extra big spoonful of Whipped Cream.“
And as Victor leaves with a small chuckle, Oswald wonders if it’s just the blanket around him warming him up, or if it’s something else.
