The Ventriloquist:  He gave up squinting at the clock on the nightstand and finally fumbled around for his glasses. Vision cleared up in enough time to watch the numbers click from 11:59 to 12:00. Midnight and still wide awake? Hmph, he knew he should have taking sleeping pills. Arnold Wesker sat up in Penguin's king-sized ooberbed and rubbed at his balding head for a moment. Speaking of Oswald, where was the bird? He knew that the tubby aristocrats absence had something to do with business, but he hadn't bothered to ask when, where or with whom. Penguin HAD told Scarface, but like a good little toady, Arnie had kindly stopped listening to the two crime lords discussion and had fiddled with his bowtie. Whatever the case, he didn't feel like going back to sleep. So the small man slipped from the bed and gave a stretch. Left hand took a moment to scratch at his backside as he walked toward the door. The tannish nightgown he'd brought from home wasn't the most ritziest formal night wear, but it made due, even if it seemed a bit short and low necked. It went almost to his knees and slitted near his upper thigh. But, lo, did Arnie feel scandalous in it? Not a bit, it was just a nightgown after all. Glasses glinted in the dim light of the hallway as he left the bedroom. He took a quick peek into the next room at the tiny figure nestled into an enormous bed. "Mr. Scarface?" Satisfied that the dummy was asleep, Wesker slipped down the hallway and headed for the one of the many dens. Honestly, he didn't know where to wait; this house was far too large. Far far too large. Oswald would probably miss him by a mile if he came home.

The Penguin:  It was a big place, but the bird seemed to have that instinctual direction as to where to go. First of all, as his limo drove up that evening, he could clearly see a small light on from their bedroom window. Instantly he knew his dear Arnold was still awake, or at least sleeping quite restlessly. Part of him was touched and the other a little concerned. There was no need for him to wait up for him! He'd understand and would have just given his little dove a peck before rolling into bed beside him. The chauffer saw to Mr. Cobblepot's easy entrance into the manor and he tipped his top hat shortly. "Thank you Williams. I'll see you tomorrow." A goodnight sir was received, and he proceeded inside. The coat rack at the door was home to his top hat and his umbrella slid into the large container of multi-color and multi-use umbrellas before he made his way into the main hall. A few lights where on at random, and he slowly removed his over coat as he just happened to walk in to the correct den. The vision of Arnold in the short gown caused a delightful squawk to bubble up from the bird. Through his monocle he quite clearly gave the older man the eye, smirking a little as he tilted his head to the side. "You're up late Arnold. Couldn't sleep dear?" He had planned on sitting down with a whiskey and a cigarette, but now perhaps his plans would change. "I don't think I've ever seen you in such a garment."

The Ventriloquist:  And yes what a sight our dear Ventriloquist was. Asides from the short hardly-hardy sleep wear; what was left of his stork-white hair was sticking this way and that and he'd still been scratching rather lazily at his rear-end when Penguin came waddling into the den. Wesker didn't seem fazed at the sudden appearance of his lover; he just gave a relieved smile. "Oh you're home, No I couldn't sleep, I was wondering about you." Now either he was sleepy in the head, or he perhaps was comfortable with the bird, even enough for his disheveled appearance to not cause him to spaz. Bah, he'd had this man between his legs enough times to not to freak about hair out of place. The Ventriloquist stepped over to the bird, already stooping to give the shorter man a kiss on the forehead when the statement about his nightgown was brought up. Arnie blinked under his glasses and his brows canted. Mismatched fingertips reached down to tug at the hem of his gown and he merely quirked. "..just my nightgown, Oswald. I brought it so you wouldn't have to spare your good shirts on me."

The Penguin:  "Wondering about little ol' me? You're a doll." He smirked those shiny sharp teeth even more in the mousy man's direction, still eyeing those thin legs and onwards with a little less then innocence in his meaning. He threw the coat he was holding onto on a near by chair when Arnold was finally close enough, and a happy grin spilled over his face at the kiss to his forehead. It was little affectionate things like that which made the bird come home every night happy to see the other. Brought him again and again into affectionate arms. Oswald was preparing to wrap that arm and clutch his flipper onto the bony hip of the other, but Arnold's motion of taking the nightgown caught him off guard and he watched the little gesture with pure bemusement.  "It's just...very unique. I think it realllly shows off those legs of yours too. Mmmrrrr. Maybe I'll have to get you some newer ones?" That flippered hand he'd intended to innocently wrap around his lover instead moved and trailed down the exposed thigh and knee cap of the other with a wheezing little chuckle. "Easy access!"

The Ventriloquist:  Ah see now, Arnold would feel self-conscious if but for a moment. Cheeks flushed red and he wrung the helm of his nightgown a bit harder, pulling the Vee neck low enough to expose the bottom of his sternum before letting it spring back up.  The trail of flipper on his thigh and knee made him shiver slightly. Not home five minutes and he was already getting fresh! Ah god, Did Wesker love this man or what? Ah the mousy little man got over the frustration quickly and placed another kiss onto the bird's forehead with a chuckle. "..But Oswald, dear, I'm afraid you'd present me with uh.. seethroughy items that would give Mr. Scarface a heart attack." He reached down with both arms and wrapped them around Oswald's neck and shoulders, Bending more to nuzzle his nose into the birds greased shiny black hair. The expensive oils and Cologne woke him up more. ".. or something with duckies all over it. " A light smirk and he sighed happily. "I uh don't think anything is difficult access for you." If Penguin wanted something, he got it. Even if it meant chewing though buttons. Oh.. mmph. Yah, that had been quite the turn on.

The Penguin:  Oswald had been a foreword man after breaking out of his..ahem..shy childhood shell. And lovers in the past (though few in number for obvious reasons) had attested to his...openness and less then hesitant flippers. But with Arnold he found himself just drawn to bringing out the delightful blush on those cheeks, an occasional fog of glasses. Oh and the tug of the nightgown? It was almost too much. Thin tongue slid from the confines of his mouth and slowly traced over his upper and lower lips, hungrily eyeing the other as his flipper moved around and groped the plush rear end of Mr. Wesker. "Mrrr. Scarface doesn't have to see you in your night wear dear. It can purely be for my birds eye only." His visible eye winked delectably at the other man. "And I'm sure you would look smashing in duckies." Though it wasn't the whole truth, the mental image it produced caused him to chuckle as he nuzzled himself back against his lover. Oh...but we can't forget about where his hand had found access currently, could we? The feeling of the night gown's material being tugged at was suddenly felt, as he actually lifted up the gown and leaned back to look with a smirk. "Arnold. You are truly like a fine wine...with age...you only get better..and better. Mrrr! I could sink my teeth into that."

The Ventriloquist:  Welllll, if it was a blush dear Oswald liked to tease from Arnold's cheeks, he was rather stealthy at it, even in the most sleaziest of ways. The groping flipper that had taken residence up under the nightgown, clutching the ratty cotton of his underwear to a plump soft asscheek, was causing a rather bright flush on the Ventriloquist's face. "Oh!" Arnold gasped, even though he was clearly use to this kind of treatment from the bird, the first grope still always seemed to surprise him. He had to fight his instincts to not immediately grab the edges of his gown and yank them down, even as he found the bird lifting them up. But how could he deny Oswald such a treat anyway? The bird had spent hours on business, coming home, and still found the time for eh.. well.. moments with his older lover. Those hands finally just rested on Oswald's shoulders. The Ventriloquist pulled a light smirk in his face, and lifted his chin. Thin hips were pushed forward as his underwear was exposed and he stifled out. "God, Oswald, you're so utterly c-crass sometimes, I'd wear duckies for you, even if Scarface saw, and you know it." He swallowed down a moan to the compliments. "If I'm like wine, and you're practically d-drooling over a drink, well..." He could feel his face getting hotter as he spoke, but he could also feel his cock pressing a tent into those rather poorly kept undies. "You might as well have a taste, I won't stop you." He leaned down again to run his lips and then his tongue along the bird's own nose. The Penguin was alluring to him in this way. No matter where they were, public or not wise, he always seemed to give him a spark of life to this older man.

The Penguin:  It was a slightly twisted version of that cute little girl being exposed by her playful puppy on that sun tan lotion bottle. Instead it was a shy old man being exposed by his cunning, greasy birdlike lover. The only way it could be closer is if Oswald had actually used those sharp teeth rather then flipper to lift the gown up. He lived for moments like these with Arnold, and they made business more enjoyable. He could stand to meet with obnoxious people much better now, because he had someone to come home to, who he could grope and manhandle and still love affectionately all at once. It was delightful. The smirk on Wesker's face only brought the bird even more joy as he listened in. "You really must be an angel...most people don't put tents in their night gowns because of my crass-ness." His eyes had trailed down unabashed to the growing sight as his flipper dropped the part of the clothing article he held finally. The word 'drooling' over Arnold cause Oswald to indeed get a bit more hot under the collar. "..Oohhh. Are you suggesting something Mr. Wesker?" He arched one of those surprisingly well kept black brows and suddenly pulled the man in closer just in time to have that warm tongue grace over his nose. Oh what a place! He practically jumped, and now he nearly was drooling! Penguin let out a low moan, feeling by now his own erection obvious pressing through his black slacks. "I suppose then we should head off to the kitchens to begin this..midnight snack?"

The Ventriloquist:  "M-more then just your Crassness, turns me on, Oswald." Arnold mumbled against the birds nose as he was groped. Feeling that flipper hand slide against that 'tent' that was the object of conversation. The touch was all he needed to go from half flaccid to completely throbbing for the bird. Sweat beaded on his forehead and down his slim neck as he jerked his hips lightly against the lovely touches. "Ngh..K-kitchen?" When the gown was abandoned for the suggestion they take this 'welcome home' to another room, Arnie blinked under his glasses at first. "That's not the kind of snaking I was...." Ah innocent little Arnold, how could he not get that right away when he had such a hard on pressing both against and into his naked thigh from the bird. "......Ohhhh." At least he did 'get it' after a moment and flushed. "Oswald that's..." Teeth were squeezed together and he nuzzled the bird before he pulled back to grasp his flipper. "K-kinky." He took a moment to smooth down his nightgown, not that it hid the tent very well, he just didn't want to scare a maid or a butler. They'd hustle along, heading toward the kitchen.