RUSH!

A RP FIC By Spug & KT

 

Genre: Batman

Theme: Comical Romance

Pairing: PenguinxVentriloquist

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Slash, Sexual Content, Drugs

Summary: To be King of The Narcotics once again, Scarface offers the Penguin a deal on something special the dummy’s been cooking up, and to show it works, he has the perfect little Guinea Pig…

 

 

 

 

The Ventriloquist: .. well obviously this place was crooked.

 

Down RIGHT crooked. The Stacked Deck. The seediest jumping back alley joint in all of Gotham City. Unless you were of a certain breed of Gotham Vermin, you didn't come here. Unless you had business with the rats and dogs that overran the place, of course. Thick with smoke, heavy on the booze, gamblin', whorin', cheatin' dead body out back kinda place that was home away from home for a block of wood just as infested with evil as every other plank in this place.

 

But the Ventriloquist himself? Out of place in the back booth. A small form hutched over a rum and coke. He'd do his best to ignore the fist fight that was still raging over a hook shot on the pool table. Sheening glasses keep focused on the scratched up surface before him. One hand around his glass, the other, of course, holding that pinstriped suited Dummy so that it could keep an eye out and on everything entering and leaving the hole.

 

" Fuck, dat guy just lost ah front tooth, mayge's we's hire dah winner for dah upcomin' hiest, Dummy, Whaddya think? " Wooden teeth nashed down on a lit cigar, and it honestly didn't wait for a reply from the human. " Where's dah Peck-Peck? Said midnight, and it's ten after, I dun think e's gonna show. "

 

Wesker slid a finger over the rim of his glass. " P-perhaps not. Maybe it's for the better. "

 

 

The Penguin: Ten minutes late? Oswald felt like he should have been a hundred years late to this dump. When Scarface had said privacy, he didn't assume it would be in a place so filthy and awful that he may want to vomit. The red and white limo that pulled him up to his destination looked like it indeed was one of the most out of place items in the world. Every other car around the Stacked Deck was probably being supported by cinder blocks with peeling paint jobs.

 

When he actually got up the nerve to open the door and step out, the bird instantly squawked with disapproval. The smell of poverty, disease, and corruption was almost enough to be lethal. He considered himself to be a far more high class criminal in the end. Walking with the support of one of his deadly umbrellas however, he let himself into the joint with extreme caution, the dim lights of the place catching in his monocle and causing it to sheen sinisterly. The patrons who weren't absorbed in the fight instantly noticed the man in a nice top hat, tuxedo, and well.. flippers. But he merely walked with pointed nose held high.

 

Riff raff. He thought to himself, before finally spotting the little man and his "toy" in the back. Using a bit more haste then usual, he finally approached the booth and slid across from them. "Really, you picked the best place in town."

 

The Ventriloquist: "Home sweet Home, Peck-Peck. Welcome to dah Gotham Underground, gagy." Yellow glass eyes gleamed as the bird slid into the seat across from the odd pair. Sure, the Stacked Deck was disgusting, filled with lecherous perverts and the crème de la crème of scumbags, but there wasn't a cop for miles, and not even the batman would come down here unless he seriously had too. To just keep an eye on the joint? Oh no. You could scream your plan to the peeling ceilings and no one would honestly give a fuck.

 

Arnold Wesker finally lifted his head from staring at the table to turn those impenetrable frames toward the Penguin. At least he was still dressed with taste, but he honestly wore the same thing day in and day out, and tonight his bow-tie was a little crooked. The white fluff that stuck out from under his bowler hat was unkempt. Sweat lines staining from his temple down to his neck. Ah yes, this place made him nervous, and the bird made him even more so. But the Ventriloquist was not without manners.

 

"May I b-buy you a drink, Mr. Cobblepot?"

 

"Yer fuckin' late, what happen? Polishin' yer geck?" Even if Scarface WAS!

 

 

The Penguin: "Tch. I'm not unfamiliar with the underworld by any means Scarface, I merely choose to stay away from it." Because he of course had a bit more class then that! Politely so, he reached up and removed his hat, long black hair still coming down around his shoulders. Next he removed the black gloves which hid those flippers from normal view of the actual skin. Not like he cared at the moment. Wesker wouldn't voice his opinion, and Scarface existed to boast unneeded ones. It was a good balance.

 

 "No thank you, Mr. Wesker. I already had a few drinks this evening with Ms. Ivy, as well as taken a hefty load of her winnings at the poker table. I'm very satisfied. As for my tardiness there really is no excuse. But I can't say I wanted to just coming running to this place.. it's not very accommodating." He chuckled darkly before his eyes narrowed in on the Ventriloquist and the dummy.

 

"Alright Scarface. I'm all ears."

 

 

The Ventriloquist: One would have to excuse Wesker for not bothering to remove his hat or anything else. After all, this mouse of a man lived to run away if anything happened to get sour. Having everything on one's person really helped if one had to scamper with one's tail between their legs. A momentary glance was given to the flippered hands, but no disgusting expression would grace Wesker's face. In fact, the small man never seemed to have much of an opinion or as the bird thought, never bothered to express it much.

 

Deeply though, the sight did make him sad. Poor man. Life is cruel. Ha! Wesker himself was the fucking POSTER CHILD for what this city could do to you after it had it's demented way? And he felt sorry for the Penguin? Tsk Tsk.

 

"O-okay." To the decline of the drink and Wesker fell back to let Scarface conduct its business. The Dummy clanked once and then shifted a wooden eyebrow up. " 'memger a few years gack. Mayge it was agout ten, 'an the gane of the entire gurg was the drug, HEAT? Yah have tah memger it, everyone an’ dere grandma's was fuckin' addicted to it. "

 

 

The Penguin: "Mmmm." Did Wesker actually have a shred of pity for the bird? Let it be kept quiet.. because one of two things would probably happen. He'd either shake it off like water in irritation, or he would try and use such an emotion to his advantage. Neither one could prove well for Arnold Wesker in the end. Though maybe somewhere deep down he'd appreciate it--but who'd ever know? The Penguin enjoyed his own shroud of mystery linked to his looks, use of umbrellas, and eccentric as much as the next. He tapped one end of his right flipper onto the table as he listened to Scarface begin talking about.. of all things.. drugs?

 

The Penguin himself only smoked cigarettes out of his black holders, drugs and addictions were such a waste of money. But a valuable way to reap it from others. "It rings a bell. I know quite a few of my associates who did HEAT. But what does it have to do with us? It was a fad drug...not too many people would remember it these days."

 

 

The Ventriloquist: That might of been Wesker's whole problem with life. He tended to let things walk over him because he felt that they were more important then he was. Here he was, mind in shambles, and he'd sit back and worry about someone with a million dollars and clubbed hands. Scarface on the other 'hand', could give a shit about the suffering of Penguin, or the rest of fucking Gotham.

 

 " Dat was me. I was dah grains gehind dat little venture. So it was a fad, it woulda geen the entire drug empire at my lil fuckin' feet if it hadn't geen for dah fuckin' Gat. " Cigar smoke was waved around as Scarface clanked irritated. "Gut that's not the reason I had yah come down 'ere. Drugs are oldschool, gut the whole reminded me dat people are fuckin' guligle. Dah will hook on tah anyting dat makes dere grains tinkle an’ dere godies sweat. "

 

Sweat. The word made Wesker wiggled a bit. Because the longer they sat here, the more he was sweating, and he could feel a cold sheer line of it running down his back. Scarface pointed his cigar at the bird. "Dere was one ingredient in HEAT dat made it so addictive, an’ what wodjah say if I told jah's I got a full proof plan tah have everyone in dis fuckin' gurg geating down our doors for it, gillions to ge made.. " A moment to pause. Oh if wood could smirk. " completely legal.. well.. sortah. "

 

The Penguin: Somehow he wasn't surprised that Scarface had orchestrated the entire production of HEAT. Honestly the Penguin could barely remember what it actually did to people to cause them to enjoy it so much. Was it a downer or an upper? Though he briefly wrinkled his long nose at the cigar smoke wafting into it, it was merely a natural response to the smokes odor. Composing himself, he reached into his own jacket inside as removed a silver cigarette case and his cigarette holder as well as a lighter. All of the motions of choosing a good cigarette, placing it in the holder, and carefully lighting it were done with surprising finesse as he listened to the Dummy explain his intentions.

 

A slow curl of elegant smoke soon weaved it's way up around the aristocrats head as he eyed the two of them. "Hmmm. Well. You'll have to elaborate on just how legal intentionally addicting the city of Gotham could be. What are the affects of HEAT or.. whatever new form of it you plan to sell out?" But he seemed to be interested none the less. Because anything with a legal front always amused the bird to no end. It made it -so- difficult for the Bat to ruin things.

 

 

The Ventriloquist: "Hows agout I's just show yah what I have in mind." Scarface clanked his wooden jaws together and then let out a holler for Rhino. Wesker sighed a little and took the moment to rub at the back of his neck with his free hand. Once more his vision drifted to the bird, watching him light the long thin cigarette stick. His small nose wrinkled to the smell of the cloves and tobacco as it wafted up from the birds smoke. Honestly it smelled a hundred times better then the thick Cuban cigar tar that Scarface just let burn. ( of course the Dummy could never really smoke it ) Wesker himself never smoked. He drank a hell of a lot, but smoking? His throat was raw enough. The whole thing made him thirsty and uncomfortable. Sweaty. He remembered he had his rum and coke and began to reach for it with his free hand. A wooden one slapped that pale thin item like a scornful mother with a child in a candy store. Wesker yelped a bit and sat back.

 

 "Got sometin else I need yah tah guzzle Dummy." Just then Rhino arrived and set a metal container down on the table with a thunk. It was smaller then a coke-can and bleeding condensation. Poptab, like an energy drink without a label. " Say ello tah RUSH, Peck-peck. "

 

 

The Penguin: "..Well..alright." He didn't really like the idea of moving anymore, he'd almost finally gotten comfortable in his seat in this very uncomfortable place! However when he realized that whatever it was being brought to them, the bird gave a pleased smile and leaned back in his seat.

 

Rhino was ever the obedient servant, albeit a bit confused himself as to what really was going on with Mr. Wesker. But he wasn't around for his brains anyway. He did his job,  and as Mr. Cobblepot tipped ashes into a small tray from his cigarette, he watched Wesker's hand get slapped with a slight chuckle. What a shame. But the real attention getter soon became the product that Rhino brought over. A.. soda pop? He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

 

 "...You've put the ingredient into a drink? Well. I suppose it worked for Coca Cola when it originally used cocaine in it's recipe..but.. well yes. Let's see a demonstration." He gestured toward Wesker to indicated that the sooner he drink the stuff the better. Just what would that ingredient cause in a person? Hmm.

 

 

The Ventriloquist: "Coke-a-Cola is freakin' watah compared to dis!" Scarface tossed it's wooden head in a bit of a triumphant motion and clanked it's jaws at the Penguin. "Go on Dummy, Drink up!"

 

Now here, Wesker banked a bit. The little man stared down behind those frames at the weeping metal container and his mouth finally showed some true sign of expression. He looked absolutely.. shocked. What was this? He known nothing about.. HIM Having to drink the stuff. "b-b-but Mr. Scarface... I don't.. I shouldn't.. it a DRUG Mr. Scarface." He actually turned toward the bird with a pleading expression, only to have a Tommy Gun suddenly jabbing into his collar bone. Where the fuck did the Dummy pull that from? Possible under the table.

 

"Stop yer guggling and ge my fucking Guinea Pig, Dummy. Or I'll glow yer head off." Oh god. Wesker froze for a second. Ever pore in his body seemed to be leaking. And there was a trail.. going right down the crack of his ass, and he couldn't even wiggle in his discomfort.

 

"But.."

 

"DRINK."

 

A long sigh left the Ventriloquist and he reached for the can. He had to pop the tab with his single hand and the way his nails scrapped against the lid was loud. He got it opened and then lifted it to his mouth. Lips were held tight for a moment. The thing smelled like limes and overly sour ones at that. Another jab from the gun and he tossed his head back to chug it. Might as well get it over with. ARGH. It tasted like it smelled. Sour!

 

 

The Penguin: Here was the part where Mr. Cobblepot actually kind of pitied Mr. Wesker. It really was sad to watch someone unknowingly force themselves to take a possibly lethal agent. Suicide perhaps? Unlikely though, since Scarface expressed this was going to be legal "kind of". But then it dawned on the bird that.. whatever affects the drug had--would they not indeed affect Scarface's performance as well? It wasn't like the chemicals would just ignore the split personality-

 

--right?

 

Reaching up he took out his monocle briefly and shined it up, the eye it was usually in squinted shut as he went about shining the glass to perfection. "Maybe you should just test the drink on one of your other men Scarface and give Wesker here a bit of a..." But it was too late. By the time his sentence was almost done, Arnold was already taking his first few sips of the drink. Great. Well if nothing else this sure would be interesting, to see if Scarface would get the affects of being doped up just like Arnold was going to. But then maybe the drug wasn't as powerful as HEAT had been in the first place, despite all of Scarface's claims. The bird adjusted himself in his seat and asked after the white haired man had drank a bit more of it.

 

"Well..how is it then?"

 

 

The Ventriloquist: Now that was an interesting thing to ponder? What would happen between the personalities once this hyped up energy drink took full effect? "Don't waste it, drink dah whole thing, Dummy." Scarface tapped the bottom of the metal can with his Tommy Gun and made Wesker drain the whole damn thing. The small man finally gasped and set the container down on the table. He took a moment to heave his lithe chest before swallowing a few times. That horrid lime taste still lingering heavy on his tongue.

 

"It's horrible... taste like a margarita with too much salt." Wesker shook his head and sat back with a bit of a whine. Why did Scarface make him drink that? He was almost in a panic wonder what was going to happen to him. A thin line of sweat was starting right out from under his glasses on his nose now. Should only be a moment.

 

" I's made Dummy 'ere drink it cause think agout it Peck-Peck dah average person whose gonna ge guzzlin' dis shit is average joes who need tah loose weight or scrawny shits who want to gulk up. It'll only ge when everyone else is gragging it off dah shelves dat all the geefcakes tink they are missin' out on somethin’. " Those glass eyes turned toward Wesker. " Well Dummy?" Wesker licked his lips and stared at the bird. His heart was starting to sped up, more then usually. He could hear it in his ears.

 

"I'm n-not sure, sir. "

 

 

The Penguin: He was almost tempted himself just to see how awful it tasted.. but all the same he wanted in no way to find himself hooked on this stuff. That would be rather pointless, the people who profited from other's addictions were usually more successful when they themselves were free of the addiction.

 

"Sounds awful..how do you expect people to like it if it actually tastes bad. People don't seem to mind when it's a legitimate drug..but if you're trying to sell this to average people won't they be going off of taste value? Or..is it so addicting that it eventually won't matter?" He looked now very close at Wesker.. waiting and waiting to see the drinks results. "Hm. It does make sense, you're right. You seem to have a good idea about just how stupid the people of Gotham really can be." A slight smirk came to his face as he gave Scarface the round about compliment.

 

"I suppose marketed right people will buy anything. Or if it's got a good enough buzz to it." He reached up and rubbed his own chin with the end of his right flipper in contemplation as he watched Wesker and awaited to see the symptoms.

 

 

The Ventriloquist: HEAT in it's pill form had caused a delicious high of energy and a lightheaded feeling, but the side effects? Oh well that's why it had been called HEAT, when one had come down off the high, they had a fever that just bordered on making one's brain damaged. Take too many HEAT at once, and you ended up boiling your brain. Of course Scarface had dulled down the dose for the sports drink, but even after only a few moments of drinking it, The Ventriloquist was feeling .. overly hot. If he'd been sweating a lot before, it was double folding now. The side effects up to now had only started to be physical. Heart racing, sweating, his leg had started to tremble under the table, foot nudging the fat little bird's on occasion.

 

 "Yadda Yadda, Gothams stupid, go figure." A shrug of wooden shoulders. "As fer the taste, dats where yah might have tah come on in, I was figuring we could work a little in dat department. You's gots the factory's and the manpower tah get this little number into production, I got's the lag's down in Golivia cookin' up the secret ingredient, we'll ge quite the marketing team." Very soon, Wesker was starting to feel urgent, like sitting was getting uncomfortable, his head was starting to throb.

 

"It's really Ho-oot in here. " The small man blurted out. Scarface jerked an arm for no reason. "Are you hot, Mr. C-cobblepot?"

 

 

The Penguin: The Penguin gave a bit of a quack when he foot was suddenly touched upon like so, and he furrowed his brow somewhat at Wesker. "Careful.." He didn’t enjoy being bumped into for any reason, though it did make him a bit leery as it was a bit out of character for Wesker to just go kicking at him like that. Arnold seemed scared to death of him, and would probably avoid touching him at all costs on a normal occasion.

 

"Well. You're right.. I do have the connections. I know a few people..who know a few people..that could probably enhance the flavor of the drink and get it on store shelves and marketed by Friday. But really..I'd like to make sure this has no chance of falling through or me loosing money on this kind of a deal." A shrewd business man, Penguin nodded firmly..though as his mouth opened to continue on about the deal..he was suddenly interrupted by Wesker's drug induced ramblings. He slowly shut his mouth and shook his head.

 

"..I'm afraid I'm not. Huh. So it must really be similar to HEAT if you're getting hot. But is that it? How are people going to want to get that kind of side affect? Most people don't like sweating as much as you are now Arnold." But Mr. Cobblepot was truly fascinated and he leaned over the table, his monocle gleaming as he watched the guinea pig.

 

 

The Ventriloquist: "Wow, Dummy, you ARE Sweatin' like a fuckin' pig." It seemed the wooden mobster found this little tidbit amusing as it turned it's head toward it's human toady. Another random twitch of it's arm. Slowly, very slowly the contents of the little metal container were starting to hit the Ventriloquist and yes, it was more then just the fact it was making him feel like the stacked deck was a million fucking degrees. The normally placid and timid man wiped at his brow and chuckled with a sweaty roll of his shoulders.

 

 " T-that's funny, because it's really hot in here.. it's okay though.. I think I could get use to it." Panic had receded, leaving a weird tingling sensation in every nerve of his body. It might explain Scarface's random twitches. Those glasses sheened a bit as Wesker leaned forward on the table, feet still tapping on the floor. He'd nudged the bird again. "I can't see how you're not sweatin' It's really hot.. I think I'll take off my coat!"

 

" ‘ey Peck-Peck, yah know I never really noticed this, gut yer nose is like really fuckin' gig. " Scarface's random quoting? Effects of RUSH? If anything the puppet was soon bitching, because have you ever tried to take your jacket off with your hand stuffed into a pocket? Ahah.

 

 

The Penguin: Alright, now Mr. Cobblepot was really starting to feel uncomfortable. He refused to be in the company of people on things normally, and under such a circumstance he was amazed he'd actually suspended such a rule. "It's because of the drink you had Wesker. It's a side affect of the drug...at least I think so anyway. Scarface. Look. I'm not so sure we can discuss business deals if Wesker is going to be acting like this all night..maybe I should just come by later and--would you stop that?" Such infernal nudging! The bird nashed his pointy teeth Wesker's way, expecting him to cower in fear like usual. That tended to always put people in line.

 

"Fine..go ahead..it's a free country.." He couldn't wait to see just how Wesker was going to go about removing his coat with Scarface there. But his amusement was cut short by the random insult. He looked down that long, large pointed nose at the two of them with a death glare and blew out a large plume of smoke, before tipping more ashes into the tray. "Thank you for that.. wonderful observation Scarface. Do tell me just how long the affects of this drink are supposed to last?"

 

Scowling still the Penguin continued to wait and see just how Wesker would get his coat off.

 

 

The Ventriloquist: Now it wasn't really Wesker's fault he was doing so much kicking under the table at the bird, it was just he had such a surge of energy in his veins, it wasn't like he was trying to play footsy or anything. The coat managed to make it the bony wrist that was swallowed in the Dummy's back and the Ventriloquist couldn't seem to put two and two together long enough to pull Scarface off and finish removing the clothing. So at last the item just dangled behind the miniature mob boss.

 

 "Geats me." Scarface shrugged to the question. At least Wesker seemed have lost that mousy squeaking he usually did when someone leered at him. Why that flash of sharp pointy teeth in his direction? Not a flinch from him. Those sheening glasses were focused back on the other's face and he paused in mid yanking off of his bowtie to exclaim.

 

"I actually think your nose is rather neat, Mr. Cobblepot." Bowtie was tossed and the small man slid his legs from the ground to perched belly up on the table, not fully, just enough to come within a few inches of the birds noses. What sharp teeth you have Grandmother? Sweat dripped off his face and onto the table as he stared at his teeth. "Are you sure you're not hot?"

 

 

The Penguin: So here was Mr. Cobblepot, wondering if he should just take a rain check on this whole ordeal..only to find himself watching the Ventriloquist try to remove his jacket and not Scarface. He was almost tempted to laugh out loud at the worthless effort..but something suddenly was causing the happy tune the birdy was about to sing to stop in his throat and he infact almost chocked on it.

 

He thinks my nose is--what? The monocle almost fell off his face his eyes widened so much. What could he possibly say to a comment like that? Well, thank you would be a good thing, for starters. The shocked aristocrat managed to finally clear his throat (though there was nothing to clear) and busy himself by taping a few more ashes into the tray. Was he..possibly.. embarrassed? Well compliments didn't come easily to Oswald and..

 

"Uh. Well. Thank you." Almost tempted to reach up and feel his nose just to make sure it was the nose he last remembered having, he refrained himself long enough to be yet again taken off guard by the suddenly closure of space between he and the older, sweatier man. Oswald was so absorbed in rationalizing that Arnold was just trying to say something like that to make up for Scarface's..well..Scarface-ness, that he was jolted into consciousness by the question. Those bared teeth were still quite visible, but his lips flattered about them as he sputtered out.

 

 "I-I assure you that I am at a perfectly wonderful temperature! Though your sudden close proximity is giving me a bit of a reason to sweat Mr. Wesker." It was true..he himself had grown a slight gleam of sweat on his brow that top-hat would normally cover. "Can I..get you some..water, perhaps?"

 


The Ventriloquist: Hot. Hot. Hot. Oddly enough though, despite the uncomfortableness of the extreme heat that came with drug, Wesker was starting to feel really good, and dare we say it? Happy. The table barely creaked as the small older man climbed the rest of the way onto it and kneeled. He used his free hand to tug his buttoned upped shirt out of his pants and fanned the fabric for a moment.

 

The clankering of wood sounded as one of Scarface's arms went spinning randomly. The mob boss...laughed! Yes he laughed. "Holy crap, lookit what I can do, Peck-Peck, I get you can't do dis!" Spin. Yes, RUSH had taken effect. Wesker leaned in on his squatted knees and nose to nose he came with the slightly startled and now slightly sweaty bird.

 

"Umm.. not thirsty just hot.. hey you ARE hot Mr. Cobblepot." A thumb on his free hand was raised and he swiped against the sweat on the birds upper forehead. He seemed positively quizzeled over it for a moment, and then he just smiled. Arnold Wesker? Smiling? "See?" He showed the bird his thumb.

 

"Maybe you should take off your coat too. I'll help you if you want. " Free hand was threatening to go to the birds shoulder. Now this would be funny. He hadn't even gotten his fully off and he wanted to help Penguin?

 

 

The Penguin: Lord know what possessed Wesker to actually climb the table of all things, but Mr. Cobblepot now sat there entranced by the vision. He could just see it now...the whole of Gotham city--acting like this! The Bat would have an absolute fit. Sure it was a bit frightening to see Arnold Wesker actually get well.."hyper"..but just think! Scarface was too much of a criminal genius for his own good. But now both criminal and his "puppet" were a bit gone from their usual level of insanity. An eyebrow was arched as he watched Scarface's arm spin about.

 

 "That's just lovely...look I.." Again planning to just leave and go make the arrangements for the drinks mass production, the Penguin was stopped by the object so recently in question: His nose. And that it was suddenly only inches from Wesker's. What on earth..?

 

"Ohh!" He let out a surprised squawk when he was actually touched. Was Wesker no longer intimidated by those sharp teeth of his? It was late so his frightening at times fish breath was neutralized. There was really nothing that could keep Wesker back! "Y-you're the one causing.." But there was no use in explaining, and before he allowed Wesker to start stripping him he gave a huff and reached back to remove his outer coat quickly. Beneath it was now revealed a white dress shirt with suspenders over his shoulders keeping his dress pants up. One flipper loosened his own tie as he looked suspiciously at Wesker.

 

"Are you sure you don't want water? Maybe a cold shower..? If you're as hot as you claim to be.."

 

 

The Ventriloquist: A Criminal Genus? Well most of the time, yes Scarface was pretty decent with plans. But one would have to wonder if he thought the whole testing RUSH out on Wesker through. But there was also that little thing that neither of Wesker's personalities realized they were from the same mind. You couldn't tell Arnold Scarface was in his brain, he wouldn't believe you. The small man's chest was heaving a bit as the Bird gave in and started pulling off his own coat. The smile slowly faded from his face and he gazed at the arm twirling puppet.

 

"A s-shower. Do you think that's a good idea Mr. Scarface?"

 

" I dunno is dere a shower 'ere?"

 

 " I don't think so Mr. Scarface.."

 

" To gad we could sing ‘nd dance in it. You feel like groovin' Dummy? I feel like Groovin'!"

 

 " oh my god Mr. Scarface.. we could DANCE here! "

 

 " It is a clug! "

 

 Wesker's head snapped back to Penguin and the little guy was grinning. " That's a great idea! "

 

 " 'Ey Rhino Put on some music on dah jukegox!"

 

Wesker actually murred a little bit as his free hand snag Penguin's suspender. "Do you want to dance with me, Mr. Cobblepot? " And then he was tugging as he scooted his high sweaty little ass off the table.

 

 

The Penguin: Some really should have taken a picture of the villains facial expression at the moment. The guys down town, the Commissioner, and of course the Bat would have certainly got a laugh at Mr. Cobblepot's widened eyes, and the sheer fact that his monocle had officially fallen off of his face. Looking close, one might even have noticed that the round glass had been slightly fogged. Perhaps at their closeness? Who could say? But what was causing him such a face was listening to that utterly insane conversation taking place between high!Wesker and equally high!Scarface.

 

Groovin'? He feels like....groovin'? Well great..go have a good time rubbing against the various slutty women in here and maybe I'll get myself a real dr----...what? The Penguin hadn't been able to even properly brood over being ditched for disco by Wesker and Scarface (even if they were at such a mental state)when suddenly the tide changed and...

 

"...Me?" One flipper arouse and he pointed at his own chest to indicate himself in surprise. Hey now! What was with this grabbing of suspender business? It was so very close to pulling suspenders off business. "..Well. I...You see.." The usually quite wordy and witty warbler was apparently at a loss of suave sayings.

 

Why? Because no one had ever once cared to dance with him before. Despite his utter passion for the fine arts, he only had bad memories of either being flat out turned down, or led along and used as a play thing by a certain redheaded socialite vixen. And here came Mr. Wesker out of left field suddenly—

 

"Well of course I would! Prepare to be amazed." And with that, he pushed himself off the table and snagging that Ventriloquist by the arm, heading for the dance floor.

 

 

The Ventriloquist: "Get outta dah way, dah Boss wants tah Dance!"

 

Rhino shoved at Cardsharks, pool brokers, leerchers and hookers of all types. He even shoved a pool table out of his path on the way to the jukebox. Once there the big ol Goon punched the music box, a little trick to get it to play for free and set it to some fast beat music. A little swing and a little techno all in one! Before turning toward the dirty dance floor and with one growl cleared enough space for his dual bosses and their birdy partner for the night.

 

What a turn of events! Wesker wanting to DANCE with Penguin? Once he came off RUSH he might scream if he remembered he'd asked, but right now, with the drug coursing through his veins and sweat dripping off his face, all the little guy could do was smile and let his arm slip into the birds. "Why not you?" Wesker rather singsonged. "Rhino's too tall, Scarface is too short, And I do bet you're a wonderful dancer, I'm sure I'll be amazed. "

 

"Whaddyamean I'm too short? 'Ey How come you don't wanna dance wit me? Who said I wanted tah dance wit the fucking gird in the fiorst place!" Shoes tapped onto the cruddy dance floor of the Stacked Deck and the high pair glanced at each other.

 

"I .. don't know?"

 

 "Mayge I should dance with Rhino!" The big goon finally helped this problem and reached out for the Dummy.

 

" I'd be honored, Boss!"

 

 "You getter not drop me!" And so partners were paired off.



The Penguin: The people at the Stacked Deck sure weren't happy about their pool and boozin' being interrupted. But also, what choice did they really have? Rhino was not exactly the most warm touchy feely kind of guy. His kind of touching was the snapping a person's spinal column in half kind of touching. Mr. Cobblepot left his hat, jacket, and umbrella all behind as he looped arms with Wesker and brought him out to the now cleared space. To say the least pretty much everyone in the club was confused as hell.

 

 "Yes of course you will be. " No one had really ever gotten to see Mr. Cobblepot's dancing talents in action! And the jukebox playing that jazz number.. upbeat and probably fueling the fire that was RUSH in Wesker's veins was just the kind of thing he had in mind. "Don't fret Mr. Scarface, we men of a smaller stature may lack in height but have a hell of a lot more heart and certain other things to give." The Penguin had enough girth to make up for the fact that he himself was actually shorter then Wesker.

 

But that didn't stop his flippered hands from taking hold of the thin older man after Scarface was paired off with Rhino. God that man must be either really stupid or paid really really well. Though the Penguin was one to talk, but at least he was dancing with a real person. Speaking of dancing, he wasted no time in beginning to lead Wesker about the floor to the jazz beat, amazingly very agile for his looks! And he didn't seem to worry that they were close or anything. If they were going to dance then they were going to do it right.

 


The Ventriloquist: Perhaps it was more that Rhino was very dumb and very loyal. Honestly the goon would follow the odd pair to hell and back, even if he didn't get a damn thing out of it. Perhaps he had a secret lust for the hunk of wood? Who the hell knew, but Rhino got right into the mood and danced with the limp piece of wood, scaring people half to death if they got in his way.

 

 But yes, Penguin himself did have a much more lively partner to dance with. RUSH was thumping in Wesker's veins and making his heart feel like it was going to explode in a delicious way. His head was swimming and the muscles in his body were all charged. The hand that normally held Scarface slipped into the bird's flipper, the other so much smoother landed on Cobblepot's wide hip and they were off in a fast swingy kind of dance.

 

Since the bird lead, he followed along. He wasn't as graceful as the Cobblepot ( which had he been more in his mind, he might of be bewildered by the birds movements. ) but he did notice the good steps. " See!" The Ventriloquist pressed forward at one moment and their foreheads nearly brushed. Hot breath panting out of his mouth. "You're utterly dexterous, I'll have to invite you to the Families Christmas party!"

 

 

The Penguin: Mr. Cobblepot only sent Scarface and Rhino and amused glance on occasion, but for the most part he was pretty much absorbed by his dance partner. Just as Wesker seemed to get in there so very close, with his hot breath causing the  bird's feathers to ruffle in a good way, he took that moment to spin the other out..and then right back into him. Wesker's back was now pressed into his soft round belly and chest, and the Penguin gave a smirk, murmuring into the other man's ear.

 

 "..Christmas party you say? Well I was planning on having one myself at the Iceberg lounge.. invitation only and ever so exclusive. Perhaps..." That word was breathed almost in a husky tone into Arnold's ear..but just as Oswald's closeness began to really sink in, he spun him back out again and turned Arnold to face him forward once more. "..We shall have to schedule so you can accept my invitation as well."

 

 My goodness, was The Ventriloquist receiving an invitation to the lounge's crème de la crème parties? Only the richest and finest of Gotham need attend usually. But hell, Mr. Cobblepot was amused that Wesker would think to invite him to a mob Christmas party. Might as well return the favor. All of this movement, despite his agility, had caused the bird to be worked into a sweat now though, his monocle long forgotten and face sheening just a bit now.

 

Though dare say, was he smiling? And with pointy teeth showing?

 

 

The Ventriloquist: The Ventriloquist's back, when pressed to the bird's belly, was utterly damp with sweat. The husky tone and hissed breath over his ear only made the little guy twitch in a good way. Oh lord, once he came off this drug and was his scampering mouse-like self again, he might gag and convulse thinking he was this close to the bird.

 

But right now? Those Spins made him even more hyper and a big grin had spread on his normal emo face. You could tell the man didn't smile a lot. At his age, he should have had smile lines around his mouth, and he just didn't have them. But he was smiling now, even as the bird spun him back. Wesker's belly met Penguin's lower chest and he rather stumbled into him for a moment.

 

"I'd love that!" The small man chirped to the bird. "I'll make sure to throw our dinner early then! I've heard your parties last well into the night!" A hand landed on the Penguin's shoulder and Wesker pushed his face closer again. He could smell the light scent of fish on the bird's breath, the sweat coming off him now, the oils and shampoo he used in his hair. A deep breath was gasped in, hot air hissed out, fogging his glasses up even more.

 

 "Will you dance with me there as well, Mr. Cobblepot?"

 

 

The Penguin: He was practically on top of the world at the moment. The cock of the walk. Ruler of the fucking roost. Because he was in his element, actually enjoying dancing for once and with it came a nice bit of closeness to a body that wasn't repulsive, or way out of his league. It was no supermodel grinding on his knee for cash, or some old old woman who had had one to many martinis. Sure he was a little well.. stretched thin with two personalities raging in his head, it didn't make him a complete loss in the Penguins mind. Especially when he got so close again.

 

His nose brushed against the other man's as the heat rose still. Mouth parted somewhat as his own panting breaths escaped his lungs. And just as he felt a witty surge of confidence about the dinner party, reality suddenly smacked him so hard he almost saw stars.

 

 It's the drug. He's just dancing with me because of the fucking drug. There's going to be no Christmas dance. He'd never ask me in his..well.."right" mind..I...

 

 But he refused to show such realizations on his face, because he didn't want to loose even this brief moment of enjoyment. "If you come and ask me, I most certainly would dance with you all night." And with that, he gave Wesker a suddenly pull in, their bodies pressed firmly against each other for a moment, and then as the song ended on a blare of horns, he dipped the man so far down his bowler fell off. He was held firmly though, that toothy grin and long black strands of hair hovering over him.

 

 

The Ventriloquist: Erm yes, it was too bad it was the drug that was pumping Wesker's heart so viciously and not a real singular attraction to the portly well-dancing man that was suddenly dipping him near the floor. Hat clicked to the ground and those sheening smoggy glasses slid up his forehead a bit. Blurry blue eyes completely extracted and lusterless stared at the Penguin's smiling face. Watching the light gleam off those pointy sharp white teeth. Spine quirked a bit in that awkward position. One hand was slipping against the ground, the other was still on Cobblepot's shoulder.

 

"You're soooo.. smooth." Wesker sung out. And while everyone in the whole fucking Stack Deck was staring at the odd dance couple, the Ventriloquist pressed his face up and forward, tilted to avoid the birds long nose, and pressed a very chaste, very hard kiss to the other’s smiling mouth.

 

It would probably surprise more then just the Penguin, because Both Rhino and Scarface gasped and Rhino did drop the dummy who clattered to the ground in the silence before the next song kicked on.

 

 

The Penguin: Anyone who saw it would probably say it was a trick of the light, a  joke, a prank, and least of all.. a real kiss. But Mr. Cobblepot was definitely sure it was real alright. When he'd been complimented like so, The Penguin couldn't help but puff out his chest in pride. "..Well, I must say that it is good company which brings out the very best in--MMM.."

 

 His thin lips were halted from flapping by that sudden kiss which almost caused the Penguin to loose his grip on Arnold. That would have been an awful disaster! But as luck would have it, he managed to maintain a grip and it was reinforced by actually pulling Wesker in closer and lengthening the kiss just a bit. But by the time his dance partner was back on his feet, the kiss had ended. It was the clatter of the dummy that startled him out of the kiss really, and now he stood there, arms dangling at his own sides as he stared opened mouth at Wesker. There was indeed a stain of blush running across his nose.

 

"..I-I think you had a bit too much of that RUSH stuff, Arnold. Far too.. much.." Did he want it to happen again? Yes. He just didn't know it yet. When was the last true time he'd been kissed? The Penguin could barley remember. And it felt oh..oh so nice. Would Scarface now have a shit fit? Probably. But maybe it was worth it. Because he soon gave Arnold a reassuring smile that could only mean one thing very personally directed to Wesker.

 

 I liked it.

 

 

The Ventriloquist: There had been the hard press of lips, the faint taste of fish and the overwhelming flavor of sweat. Salty. The small man had actually murred slightly into it before Cobblepot pulled back completely and set him on his feet again. It was over before he could seriously grab onto it, and yet left him wanting more. But there were things interrupting. Items being dropped. Mr. Cobblepot talking.

 

 "I don't think I've had enough.. oh wow.." Wesker reached up and rubbed at his sweaty forehead. If Cobblepot wanted his proof of the power of this drug it was right here, in Arnold Wesker's half glass covered eyes, those blues leaking with passion and fever. A step was taking toward the bird, mouth was actually pursing as if he'd kiss him again. That might of been his aim. Mismatched hands going for the bird's lapels.

 

 "You GIG Idiot you dropped me!" Scarface's voice cut in and Wesker twirled toward it. Rhino was bending down to pick up the Dummy.

 

"Mr. Scarface.. did you have fun." Wesker stooped to pick up his Bowler and began a hazy walked toward the Dummy.

 

 "Yah it was a glast, you done suckin' face wit Peck-Peck? OH MY GOD.. Hey I gotta an Idea, lets glow this joint and hit dah town!"

 

 

The Penguin:  Could a drug really make someone fully kiss another person without having any sort of emotions to go from? Well the Penguin couldn't begin to decipher the meaning of all of this. He felt like he was half on top on the world.. and the other just as cynical as ever. At least that's what he felt with intelligent thought process came back to his brain. However as he just stared slack jawed at Wesker, the sudden burst from Scarface shocked him to his senses.

 

What...? What the hell is going on here!? God Wesker was practically a cock tease in such a state. Giving such a brief but hard kiss and then slithering off like nothing happened!? Ohhhh but Mr. Cobblepot didn't so easily forget. All of that was stored away in his memory banks for a rainy day. Sucking face!? He couldn't believe Scarface would have the audacity to label it as such. The bird finally moved from his so far stationary position, feathers thoroughly ruffled as he huffed out.

 

"We were not sucking face as you so crudely put it, Mr. Scarface! We just.. had a moment." And that was that. It was just a moment and wouldn't easily be forgotten but probably could never be recreated all the same. Mr. Cobblepot proceeded to start back over toward the table where he carefully put his suit jacket and top hat back on. An eyebrow was arched after he placed his monocle back to it's appropriate place.

 

"Well you all have a grand old time on the town.." He just seemed to assume he was not invited. Not wanted. Because it was Scarface's idea and Wesker hadn't asked him to come anyway. And why would he want to come!? He didn't like Rhino..he didn't like Scarface..and he certainly did not (100%) (No questions asked) LIKE ARNOLD WESKER.

 

 ....So why was he wearing a bitter expression as he took up his umbrella with a little huff? You tell me.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Arnold Wesker? Bonified Cock Tease? Are we speaking of the same little mousy backboneless Ventriloquist here? Perhaps it was all RUSH's fault he was acting so promiscuous in the first place, but if that was the case, he was just going to nab up Mr. Scarface and leave the bird in his high-tripping dust! Wesker wavered a bit as he reached Rhino and the Dummy and stretched out to take Mr. Scarface from the huge goon.

 

For the moment, Rhino quit acting like he was going to smash everyone's face in and suddenly became a gentle giant. Before slipping Mr. Scarface onto Wesker's hand, he flipped the older man's coat out a bit and helped him slid into it. Why he even adjusted Wesker's bowler, wiped off a bit of the sweat from his forehead, and fixed his glasses before setting the plank of evil wood onto the man's calloused right hand.

 

 "A moment? A Moment?" Those wooden jaws began clambering as the Ventriloquist started to step for the door. "Yah ah QUEER moment is what yah's were havin' So where yah wanna go foist dummy? Taco Gell? You hungry? I'm hungry! You hungry Rhino?" So this was to be the end of it right? They'd meet again when Wesker came down off RUSH and the scheduled mass production for the drink was to start. Then the Ventriloquist halted before he got to the door and turned back around slowly and gave a wavering puzzled look to the bird who was huffling fondling his umbrella. A low breathy moan escaped him before, to both Rhino's and Scarface's surprise, he clicked heels all the way back to the round bird and reached out with his free hand.

 

Why isn't he smiling anymore? Didn't he enjoy the dance? And why's he still standing there? Oh god, my heart is pounding. I feel so wonderful, he's got to be feeling this good too.

 

"You're coming aren't you, Mr. Cobblepot? " Wesker's mouth pulled into a hopeful smile. "There's plenty of room."

 

"What? I didn't invite dah gurd!"

 

"But I'd love if he came Sir."

 

 "What? God, I don't care, lets just go, I'm starvin!"

 

 

The Penguin:  Now is this the knife umbrella or the flying one? I can't remember. I really need to distinguish handles better. His thoughts were leaning toward a little mundane in track, as he stared at his umbrella. Maybe it was just trying to take his mind off of the fact that Wesker was about to walk out the door and leave him in this seedy shithole all by himself. If anything Oswald demanded that he should be the one doing the walking out! After all.. he had been invited, and he had to be subject to Wesker getting all freaky on that RUSH rubbish. Shouldn't he be at least allowed the dignity of being the one who does the ditching? As he adjusted his regal top hat, he turned just in time to come face to face with the man in question and he gave a slight start.

 

Was he coming?

 

"..Well I merely assumed I was not.." But Scarface burst out the sudden lack of invitation and his expression fell a little. "..Yes, invited." Though both eyebrows raised when Wesker seemed to demand his attendance almost. "I...well...fine." He let out a strained sigh and then waddled behind Wesker all the way to the exit. His own limo driver was waiting outside expectantly, but the Penguin just waved Deadshot off and followed the mob boss and his band of merry dummies. Once he was seated, he 'ahemed' somewhat and decided to announce.

 

"I have a confession to make however. I'm afraid I've never been to...Taco Bell." Infact he barely ever went to drive thru places or anywhere that he could get a meal for under 15 dollars a plate. After all he wanted to spend Gotham city’s citizen's money on things of good class.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  He's coming! Wonderful. Wesker couldn't even make himself realize that this was completely out of character to him. Oh the drug in his veins was making him so happy and so light headed. The trio, no make that foursome ( Had to include Scarface ) Tramped out around to the back alley where the Dummy's rather pricey Royce was parked. It wasn't a stretched Limo like the Penguin rode around in, but hey it was nothing to sneeze at. Rhino got into the front seat after letting the rest of the men into the back and started the car.

 

The inside of the Royce wasn't lit at the moment. Wesker had taken a seat across from the bird and his glasses were sheening with ever bit of light that was available. It gave him an eerier appearance in the dark. With that and Scarface's own glass eyes doing the same thing, it would have been more spooky had the man been taller and if he hadn't been jittering and jerking so much.

 

 "Oh my, You've never been to Taco Bell?"

 

"Oh my god, Dummy, Dis gurd hasn't lived! E anit had a gean gurito or a chicken quesadilla? Dat's not right!" There was the hiss of hot breath as the car jerked forward, as nearly Wesker did and his free hand landed on the Penguin's thigh to catch himself. He didn't pull away either. The little guy just leaned in with a smile in the dark.

 

 "You should get the Baja Chalupe, I can never finish it. It's biiiig."

 

 " You can never finish anythin' yah eat like a gurd." A momentary pause. Perhaps the Dummy was sizing up Penguin's girth at that statement and had confused itself. "Scratch dat. Gad reference."

 

 Another jerk of the car and Wesker's nose brushed the Penguins. " We don't have to go get fast food if you'd rather not.. you're the guest, it's up to you." God, another pothole and he was gonna land in the Bird's lap. Lovely streets Gotham had, eh?

 

 

The Penguin:  Thank you, City Hall. Oh yeah. Mayor was doing a fine job. That's why these two notorious criminals were rolling with ease over crappy pavement. But thanks to the bureaucrats, the Penguin and Scarface could continue to do things that they were about to. Like sell a very addictive drug on the market and make a complete killing from it. FDA approval or not! All that took was a little money under the nose. And once again speaking of noses, he found his own yet again brushed against Wesker's as they began bumping down the street.

 

The way the darkness with such fragmented light lit up those glass eyes and Wesker's glasses also found it's way to the bird’s Monocle, and with those menacing glints and shining teeth, it was indeed a spooky and complete picture in the limo.

 

Ex..cept of course for the current conversation. Oswald was almost having trouble keeping up! A grande what? Chalupewho? This is why he didn't eat much Mexican food. Too many stupid names. And not enough fish for his liking. Still he looked at Wesker with a slight intake of gasp when the car jerked him forward yet again.

 

 "..Well.. I I..you just order what you think is best. It's alright, I suppose trying new things isn't going to kill me." Unless there was some terrible food poisoning because it's FAST FOOD. But. It was a risk he was willing to take if this bumping kept making Wesker get closer. Erhm.. not that that really made a different to him! But the next comment made him smile at first and then quickly frown.

 

"..Birds are noble creatures no matter what you decide to reference them too, Mr. Scarface." Ooo..have we hit a sour chord with Mr. Cobblepot? Obviously! He was almost ready to cross both arms over his chest in a huff when another pothole was crashed into and he was tossed up out of his seat almost! "..Ooh! Damn these roads.."

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Well not everyone had the social status and luxury to have a five course dinner every damn night! Honestly, when you carried around a doll all day long, there was only certain places you could go. Not that Wesker couldn't have left Mr. Scarface at home and gone out, but that was the thing, Mr. Scarface letting Wesker have time on his own? Ha! Laughable. They were two peas in a pod, and Wesker was the one SMUSHED at the back.

 

 "Are you pouting?" Wesker said against Cobblepot's nose in the dark. After all his sharp shiny teeth were no longer visible below his interesting nose. "I like biii -ERRDS!" Wow that was a REALLY big potthole. Wesker came clear out of his seat! At least for Cobblepot's sake the little guy didn't fall fully in his lap. The Ventriloquist rather slipped into the space between their feet. Face smacked into the birds right thigh and the Dummy clattered against the other's hip as the car found the road again. "..they're beautiful."

 

 Didn't that hurt? Wesker hadn't even skipped a beat, even as he found his face in the other's lap. "Holy CRAP Rhino, slow dah fuck down gefore yah fuckin' kill us gack 'ere" Scarface clamored face down on the seat.

 

 "I love to go to the park and feed the du--CCKS!" Another pot hole and back down his face went.

 

"RHINO!"

 

 "I'm only doin' thirty, it's just a bad road Boss!" Mrgh. Well at least the bird's lap was soft, if he'd done this to anyone else he might have broken his nose or his glasses. Bowler hat clinked against the other's stomach as he tried to rise again. "Only Mr. Scarface doesn't let me go to the park, Mr. Socko did."

 

 "Socko was a fuckin' fag, I'm a getter goss dem him!"

 

 

The Penguin:  Alright, Mr. Cobblepot couldn't lie. He was NOT comfortable with the situation at hand. Or rather.. in his lap. He was already not very happy that he seemed to somehow be strangely attracted to this weird man (really Penguin, are you one to judge? ...Yes!) after that whole kiss thing..oh and that suspender grab had been nice. Crawling on the table seemed to do it too..Hpmh!

 

 When he'd fallen back into his seat there too came the surprise of actually having Wesker's face now planted in his thigh. "Ohh!" An irritated groan was issued as he reached down and tried to help him sit up some. "..They most certainly a-a-ree.." He gasped somewhat as a that face brushed against a rather sensitive inner spot, but he quickly tried to bite off any other possible moans of the sort. But his next confession of liking to feed the ducks had actually caused the bird to smile. But before he could even express his appreciation toward Wesker's kindness to his feathered friends, the car jolted one more and he landed right back in his lap.

 

"..Well. Perhaps after we've done our job well and racked in a serious amount of..cash..Scarface won't mind if I take you out to feed the ducks instead. Or perhaps you should try feeding the Penguin's at the zoo sardines. That is even better."

 

 It was a personal past time of his.. visiting his 'babies' or 'friends'. And they were always so happy to be fed. Far more beautiful then ducks. How could he not resist!

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  He honestly wasn't doing it on purpose. Face diving into Penguin's lap like he was. Another pot hole and The Ventriloquist finally rolled away from the bird and sat on the floorboard, sprawled lightly. He panted a bit. "Penguins?" There was a slapping sound against the side of the car. Wood against fabric and ivory. The cab suddenly flooded with light and it glinted viciously off Wesker's glasses.

 

The small man craned his sweaty head up at the bird from where he sat. "That would be wonderful!" He smiled wide before letting his head lure back against the seat. Delicate throat bobbed a bit as he swallowed. His bow-tie had been lost at The Stack Deck, and his first three buttons had been unbuttoned in either the dancing or his own fits. Slightly gleaming pale chest heaving underneath.

 

Still so hot. I'm not sure if I'm hungry or if I'd like to go swimming. Penguins swim don't they? Wesker didn't even pull his head from staring at the cars ceiling as he continued to talk. "I could feed you sardines too, you like those, don't you? If Mr. Scarface doesn't let me go, You're a bird just like them, soft and everything." Another hard heave of his chest and he dragged Mr. Scarface into his own lap. The Dummy seemed memorized in it’s own hand too much to even resort to making assholery comments. The Peek of RUSH it seemed. How could he feel so good and so strange at the same time? Sweaty lips were licked.

 

 "I'm not really hungry, just really hot.. we should go swimming, what do you think.. Mr. Cobblepot?" A shoe nudged the other's leg lightly.

 

 

The Penguin:  It was a vision to behold in itself as Penguin stared down at Mr. Wesker who finally rolled off of his thigh. The one eye not hidden by his gleaming monocle stared somewhat narrowed down at the man who's body was being over taken by panting breathes and such a heated expression. I can only imagine what he must feel like at the moment.

 

 His own mouth hung open just a bit as he got rather caught up in just letting his eyes rove down that semi-exposed and panting chest. However the word 'sardines' woke him from the slight trance he'd fallen into and he sat up with a slight start. "..Well yes I do enjoy Sardines. Although I think Mr. Scarface may disapprove of you feeding me sardines over real Penguins. Even if you say I am a bird." He gave a chuckle.

 

Ha! He wished. Life would be so much easier, and his build and great plumage would make him the most sought after mate. But as a normal man well.. humans didn't seem to like his girth or eccentrics very much. No matter. Perhaps in another life. But such a compliment of being soft and bird like (at least it was a compliment to him) resonated well.  However he gave a little squawk of surprise at the suggestion of swimming. ...He REALLY wanted to swim? Well.

 

"Hm. Well. You could..come swim in my private pool at my home if that is what you really want. But don't you want a burrito..or whatever the hell they serve at Taco Bell?" He arched an eyebrow some at the highly hyper little man nudging his leg like so.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  "ummm." Oh god, was Cobblepot really going to make Wesker think at this very moment? He could hardly see straight with the way his head was swimming and his heart was pounding in his chest. He was sooo out of his normal mind. Take this: Penguin eyeballing him, normally his mouse-like reflexes would have picked up on that like a radar and he'd have snapped up onto the seat with a flush and a cringe! It was interesting the way RUSH was effecting him, was it turning him into something he was totally not, or..  was this what Arnold Wesker could have been had Gotham not turned him into it's own little Poster Boy for abuse and mental fuck-overy?

 

Maybe if somewhere down the line, someone had hugged Wesker instead of beating the crap out of him, maybe he'd have been such a nice flirty little man. Maybe the same could have held true for Penguin, if someone had taken the time to love the bird.. and not just for his money.. well. Wesker's head finally pulled up from the seat and he smiled largely at Cobblepot.

 

"You have a pool?"

 

"Of COURSE 'e has a pool, Dummy. e's the richest fuckin' person in Gotham next tah dat Gruce Wayne Gozo!" Scarface spun its arm again and clanked its jaw. "Y'know I don't tink I'm hungry either, and I don't tink I've ever geen swimmin’. "

 

 Well that settled it. Suddenly Wesker was pawing at the Penguin's legs, pulling himself up onto his knees so that he could bring his sweaty smiling face nose to nose with the birds despite the cumbersome road. "I'll feed you Sardines anyway, You're really nice, I'd love to see your pool. " Sweat was dripping off the sides of his face, breath was so hot it immediately fog up the birds monocle.

 

"Rhino, change of plans, head toward dah gurds house!"

 

"uhhh.. Okay Boss!" Car did a one-eighty and the two crime bosses were jerked again. ( Honestly Scarface needed a better driver then that oversized goon ).

 

 

The Penguin:  Indeed, both criminals would probably have ended up far different had their environments not melded them so. Gotham seemed to be a breeding ground for putting it's citizens in all the wrong places at all the wrong times--whether they produced heroes or villains. And of course the few that were confused as well--like Catwoman and Two-face's other personality Harvey Dent. And even Arnold's side of the story or persona was "completely innocent" and had no real desire for criminal activities. But Mr. Cobblepot was merely the product of his mother's constant badgering, his father's death, and very cruel taunts and exclusions all of his life. Something had snapped, and wa-la. Here sat the proud bird we know and...well..love to hate.

 

 "Oh thank you Scarface. You make it sound like a disease almost. But yes I have a pool. it's rather large but still kept up very well. I think you will like it." He damn better like it. It had cost him a pretty penny! But it was also a good draw for his house for the guests he had, and he secretly did like to sun in front of it on occasion with a good book and strong alcohol at his side. Or maybe a Martini. Who could ever tell? "And if you get hungry something can always get whipped up."

 

So if Wesker got the munchies, the maid would just scoot her bottom right into the kitchen and under threat of death make the best damn snack she's made in her life! Wesker coming up close again caused him to once more feel his spirits strangely raise just so. He was..he was nice? That was about the last adjective he ever thought would be used about him! 

 

"Well. I can't wait for i--!!" And he had suddenly turned on his own bit of debonair flare, leaning in closer as their noses brushed..only to be jerked so badly by the u-turn that their foreheads and mouths bonked together almost comically. "Awwwrk!"

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Truthfully, 'nice' probably wouldn't have been a word Wesker would have used under normal circumstances. Certainly Oswald Cobble pot was charming in his way, sophisticated, but scary usually. Not at this moment. I mean, he had dumb himself down enough to actual agree to get a burrito with Wesker. He'd danced with a man he usually considered underground scum, in Wesker's state of mind it would have been just as easy to knock him over the head, take the can, have it analyzed for the ingredients, and dump him and his little doll into the Gotham River. But the bird hadn't. He certainly WAS being NICE.

 

 " 'ey I could have a swimmin' pool iffa wanted too, gut s'not like I go for dis kinda fancy smanchy shit usuallllllllllly!" Scarface's wooden mug hit the backseat as the sudden U-turn mushed the crime-bosses together.

 

Hat was knocked cock-eyed on Wesker's forehead as their skulls and their mouths clunked together. In a flurry the free arm the Ventriloquist had curled around Cobblepot’s shoulder and those small sweaty fingers gripped into the birds coat. He suddenly found his mouth against the others in an almost sloppy crooked kind of slid of lip against lip. A small muffled gasp left the hyper older man, but did he pull away or jerk backwards in horror? Well hell no! He'd already kissed the bird once, and suddenly finding their mouths entangled, even if by accident, Wesker just went with the flow. Mouth parted under the others and he pressed back with a chuckle in the depth of his throat.

 

 Heels shifted against the other seat and he kicked against it, rather shoving himself right into the poor birds lap, or he tried too, Another hard turn of the car would send them both sliding into the door of the vehicle, it gravity worked like it should have, Wesker just ended up sprawled half on the seat, half on Penguin, and still kissing sloppily away at him. Taste like wine and fish. It tasted good.

 

 "Rhinoooooo! " Scarface muffled from between Penguin and the seat. "Do dat one more time and I'm gonna fuckin' CAP yah!"

 

 

The Penguin:  Honestly the bird had been planning to steal a little peck at Wesker, but this turned out to end up being so, so much better then that. Well he had been face planted into his thigh for a good portion of the ride, it only seemed appropriate his mouth would his face. Sure, they could have just bumped off one another and pulled away quickly. Arnold would have sloppily returned to his respective seat and that would be that!

 

But instead, just as their mouths seemed to waver, suddenly Arnold pressed himself very close and thus began a rather heated moment of kissing that involved a lot more then just the firm press of lips. Oh no, Mr. Cobblepot opened his mouth against the other's and that slick tongue of his began to probe and massage about the other's mouth. Arms soon wrapped around Wesker, but just as things started to get hot and heavy, the car once again did another painful turn and this time it was poor Scarface who really got the blunt of it. But as far as Oswald was concerned he would be kissing this way until they finally reached his...oh. they were here.

 

 Drat it all!

 

The bird finally managed to pry himself off of Wesker with a strained moan, he heaving a few breathes. "W-well..here we are..it seems." And like that, Rhino came around and opened the door for them. Well, so much for that, his face seemed to say, and soon the bird took leave of the car and began into his mansion, expecting Arnold to follow him and they all to admire the wonderful decor of the place and its antiques. But the real cause for being there was out back..and Arnold would soon lay his eyes upon a practically Olympic sized pool that had a fountain draining to it and a beautiful aviary surrounding it. The 'back' was covered over by what seemed to be a giant "cage" and birds of all kinds inhabited the lush place. Such a garden would surely have made ivy jealous, but it was the birds that mattered to him.

 

 "..Swim away!"

 

The Ventriloquist:  Had someone told Arnold Wesker he would have been swiping spit and tongue in the backseat of a car with Oswald Cobblepot and enjoying it, honestly the little guy would have flat out (Stuttering!) Denied it! Let alone swapping spit and then following the bird into his mansion to go swimming without any prior planning what-so-ever! But here he was, practically skipping through Penguin's glorious hallways, randomly admiring the decor and fine wallpaper. Rhino was left outside, like any good Goon, to watch over the car. Once they reached the swimming pool the Ventriloquist broke out into an even bigger grin as he gazed at the water, the cages and everything else.

 

 Scarface let out a "Wooo-weee, now dat's a pool, mayge we should get one of dese. If anythin' we won'ts have tah go all dah way out to dah river to give a rat rock-hard shoes." Wesker grinned at the Penguin as the bird issued that he 'swim away'. Now this was a bit of a dilemma. In their haste to first go get a burrito, then suddenly flip flopping to wanting to go swimming, Neither Wesker or Scarface were honestly dressed to do backstrokes in the pool.

 

 But did this STOP Arnold from doing what he really wanted? Fuck no. RUSH was making him do whatever felt right, and at this moment, having no swimming trunks was not going to stop him. So he would just strip down to his underwear and then jump in, right? Oh no, think again. Wesker didn't even take off his HAT or GLASSES.

 

The little guy just let out a happy squeak as the heels of his shoes lead him to the deep end and then he just fell into the pool. Scarface and all. A small splash was made and then a moment later the dummy bobbed to the surface and began floating around the pool.

 

 

The Penguin:  Watching Wesker admire his little nest really put the bird into good spirits because of course, a large purpose of his life was to impress people with his wealth and make then forget that he looked to similar to his nickname. Or criminal alias. Whatever it was. None the less, he gazed out over his back yard with a swelling of pride in his chest as Scarface and Wesker oo'd and aah'd over it all.

 

 "...Well I'll just have to give you the number of the guy that did this for me. Very talented and very good about keeping quiet as well." Because people who did business with known criminals and it was talked about usually got a lot of cops sniffing around them. Damn Gordon was like a practical bloodhound half of the time. But Oswald was very good at just.. slipping under the radar. However, he took a moment to wipe his monocle clean of smudging on his white dress shirt. Just as he looked up and replaced the item, the vision of Wesker and his little squeak into the pool caused him to actually let out a gasp.

 

What on earth was he doing going in with his CLOTHES on!? Oh dear. Mr. Cobblepot quickly (as quickly as he could waddle mind you) made his way over toward the deep end as well, but sat himself down on a nice pool chair near where Wesker had fallen. First Scarface resurfaced, and when Arnold finally came up as well, he was looking over at him skeptically.

 

"I could have..gotten you something to wear. Now you'll be soaked to your underwear." He scoffed somewhat and carefully removed his top hat, finding joy in merely observing Wesker "cool off.”

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Bowler hat was probably somewhere floating around in the pool too, because when Wesker came back up it was gone. Amazingly, he hadn't lost his glasses, but those things honestly seemed like they were super glued to his face. He let out a gasp as he came up to the surface and gripped into the ledge of the pool. Water feels so good. It's so cool. It was really nice to have all that sweat washed off his body. He looked up Penguin as the bird took his seat. White hair was plastered to his temple and neck.

 

"But  -gasp- then I would have had to wait to swim."

 

 "Not dah foists time we's goin’ home soaking wet, one time dah Gat through us into the river, took a week for the car seat tah get fucking dry." Oh Wesker was so good at throwing his voice, it actually sounded like Scarface's own was coming from where the Dummy was floating around near the filter. Hopefully he wasn't going to get sucked up into it.

 

 Wesker gasped a few more times and then began to drag himself out of the pool. It took a moment of work but he got up on the ledge of the pool and stood up. Soaking fucking wet his clothes were clinging hard to his thin frame. ( Well thin save for his putchy little belly. ) You could see the color of his skin where the fabric clung tightly, and the soaky squish of his shoes sounded. With a wet SLUMP the jacket was slid down his shoulders a bit trailing water, Wesker took steps toward the Penguin.

 

 "Aren't you going to get into the Pool, Mr. Cobblepot?" Water was draining right off his fingertips and elbows and he got within inches of the bird. Hands landed on the armrests of Cobblepot's chair as Wesker smiled. He looked about ten seconds from jumping into the birds lap again. Soaking wet even.  

 

 

The Penguin:  Well maybe if the Penguin was hyped up on a speed like drug then he too would enjoy the feeling of the cool water even if it is ruining his clothes. But none the less he got enjoyment in watching Wesker who reminded him like a drowned rat or mouse of some sort in his wet clothes and hair plastered to his face. It's a good thing this predatory bird is much more interested in fish, so all this gave him was a reason to chuckle.

 

 "..He threw you in the river? How barbaric. Well, he did cover me in bird seed one time as well. The Bat just looooves dramatic irony. it's so cliché of him." He crossed both arms over his chest and sighed a bit. "Don't worry though you can dry off as best as you can get it here, so you won't have to worry for your car seats." He was actually quite impressed that he could hear Scarface where his wooden body was actually floating. If Wesker wasn't convinced Scarface was a real person and the Penguin wasn't worried about.. damaging his mind for revealing the truth...then maybe he would have complimented such a talent. His umbrella set aside, he looked over the dripping Wesker who came out of the pool  and issued a chuckle.

 

"..Me? Swim? Well, it would take me forever to ready myself for a swim and by that time you'd already be finished!" He arched an eyebrow at the other as he had decided to lean in and was now dripping on him. Well. Dripping soon became SOAKING him as he gave a surprised chirp when suddenly the smaller man was in his lap. Great. Was this his plan, to get him all wet so there'd be no point in getting a suit on or an excuse to not swim? He rested his chin on the other's damp shoulder as arms came around Wesker's back.

 

"Hrrpmh.." And then with a sudden burst he got up, holding up Wesker in his arms. Waddling over to the edge of the pool, he made a brisk movement and threw the little man back in with a very pleased cackle.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Now was that his plan or was he just being friendly and really wanting the Penguin to swim with him? Wesker let out a bit of a hiss as he slid into the birds lap. Arms curled around the other's shoulders and he completely soaked the other's chest and lap. Head for a moment rested against the bird's torso. Wesker could feel the heat wafting up from under the now wet clothing. Such a contrast to the cooling water that was trying to evaporate off his body. He could also hear his heart between his squawking. He's really soft and warm. I bet he'd be great to sleep on. Such thoughts!

 

But before he could get use to the position, Mr. Cobblepot was standing up and walking toward the pool. Oh was he going to go swimming with Soaking High!Wesker?

 

 "Ahaha!" Wesker squeaked before he disappeared into the water again with a splash. It washed Mr. Scarface around to the shallow end and he just kept bumping into the wall. Ha, The Penguin must have thought himself pretty damn cleaver with that movement, eh? Probably leaned right over the edge of the pool in his short stance to gloat and smirk, right? Whatever the case, Wesker would come back up with a few more gasps. One hand of course would grab the edge of the pool to get leverage, and the other?

 

Well it snapped right up and snagged the birds suspender and he Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaked! Now this would cause either two things. Cobblepot was going to go for that swim, or that suspender was going to break. Now, how sturdy are your braces, Mr. Cobblepot?

 

 

The Penguin:  He was as predictable as ever. As soon as he'd watched Wesker's body create a satisfying splash on the surface of the pool, he squatted down there with a large grin of smugness set right into his face. Pearly white and sharp teeth glimmered somewhat as he continued to cackle to himself.

 

"You just keep staying cool down there Arnold my boy. Or perhaps you should go check on dear Scarface!" God the bird just cracked himself up! But soon the humor was about to come to a screeching halt. Of course Mr. Cobblepot only bought the best clothing money could buy. Which also meant that everything from his tailed suit jacket, to his spats was of a wonderful and sturdy quality. Just..like..those suspenders. They would survive an atomic bomb one may think. And it was the exact reason why Wesker's tug was able to cause the bird to lurch forward and with a slipped foot, he went head first into the deep end. There was a splash of some sorts about him, though he was really too close to cause a huge tidal wave even with all of his girth.

 

A few bubbles escaped to the surface and were soon followed by his now very wet head, black hair pressed to his own cheeks, actually hanging in his eyes and on his nose a bit as well. Sputtering for breath he spit out a bit of water and floated there with ease, before grabbing onto the side of the pool and pushing his hair from his eyes.

 

"..W-wesker..you are in SO much trouble.." He breathed heavily and gave a very sinister smirk as he began swimming toward the other, kicking his shoes off in the water in the process as he tried to grab for the thinner man.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Oh was he now?

 

Wesker just hung onto the side of the pool while Penguin did his little head dive into the water. It was probably a good thing that he didn't create such a massive Tidal Wave, Poor Mr. Scarface. The Dummy seemed to be enjoying itself. The wooden floatation actually laughed quite loudly before he bumped into the steps at the other end of the pool.

 

 "Ahaha.. does he float, Dummy? Oh my god dat was rich!"

 

 "He does.. Mr. Scarface." Wesker smirked himself as the now soaking wet aristocrat actually bobbed to the surface and pulled himself out of the water a bit. The Ventriloquist slid a foot or so out of the way of that flipper that was trying to grab at him, letting go of the ledge and kicking lightly. Tips of his shoes brushed the Penguin's inner thighs as he lazily swam just out of the reach of the birds range.

 

"Am I now? Whatever will you do if you get hold of me, My good sir?" Now that had a slur to it didn't it? Mmgh. The cooling water was starting to relax him, he wasn't feeling so hyper anymore, but it had yet to bring his brain out from the clouds, or was it honestly in his pants? He let the bird swipe at him a few more times before he just kicked to switch positions and swam right up to the him. Arms wound right around the Penguins shoulders and Wesker mushed his soppy face and smeared wet gleaming glasses right into the others with another smirk and slightly chattering teeth. Hot breath splattered with cool drops huffed against the other's mouth. He didn't kiss him full out this time, just lightly teased against his lips. "Hmmm?"

 

"Dummy, my legs fuckin' in dah filter. Come over 'ere and get me!" But Wesker ignored the floating mob boss.

 

 

The Penguin:  Oswald was not an.. incredibly fast swimmer, but he did live up to his namesake by almost looking like he glided through the water, albeit a bit slow. "Hrrrmm. Well. I could either do rather naughty things to you once I get you, or I could pop your little head right off your body. Usually, it's the latter with most people. But. For you.. I may make an exception." What a compliment, the Penguin did NOT want to kill Wesker. Mostly due to the fact that the little man had almost given him a hard-on once already and with that foot touching at his inner thigh he just may do it again.

 

But it seemed he wouldn't have to snatch him up after all. A smug grin came to his face as Wesker just swam right for him, and when the other's arms came about his shoulders he wrapped his own 'round his waist. Arnold's warm, slightly alcohol hinted and RUSH'd breath made him almost shiver a little against his cool wet skin, but he didn't let that mouth get off so easily. Arnold had teased quite enough for tonight. Those sharp looking teeth suddenly caught Wesker's bottom lip in a very light hold, nothing that would draw blood but it was a bit more.. dangerous feeling then any normal lip bite a person would give. Eventually he did let it go.

 

 "Mmrr. You're teeth are chattering, perhaps you need warmed up after all." He pulled Arnold in closer then and pressed his lips quite firmly now, both moving to a more shallow end of the pool so there was no need for their legs to do too much kicking underneath them. And of course, Scarface's protests and filtering woes were quite ignored by the bird as well.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  "Oh my god, Wha?" The Dummy's voice muttered out from where he was stuck in the filter. Obviously, being stuck in the pool's cleaning unit was less distracting to the puppet then Penguin's vow of 'might do naughty things'. It seemed though, that he was distended to just not be heard. After all, it was a little difficult for Wesker to concentrate on his second personality when the much more interesting and soft one of the Penguin suddenly had a hold of him and was pulling him close.

 

The sudden feel of sharp teeth on his body lip caused the Ventriloquist to gasp. It should have been fair warning for him, that something wasn't right, but as his body cooled his mind refused to let go of how he felt at the moment. Heels shifted at the bottom of the pool as they graced the shallows and continued to back up a bit. "Well I certainly.." Wesker paused between a deep kiss. Tongue flinted between the left over fish and mild alcoholic spit of the bird that was pushing into him, and the taste of the light chlorine in the pool. It made it very clean tasting, with just a hint of spice. Hotness against a demanding cold. "don't want my.."

 

Mismatching finger tips dug into the Penguin's soaping coat as he pulled closer to him. Despite the coldness of the water, there was defiantly a little disturbance going on inside the Ventriloquist's submerged tuxedo pants. His own teeth nipped back at the bird's thin bottom lip. " head popped off..". Mmgh. I never thought kissing the Penguin would be so hot..

 

Wesker brow flinched a little to his own thoughts. There was something that was trying to nag at him, not Scarface, but it was hard to tune into it with such a warm wet mouth and tongue assaulting his senses.

 

 

The Penguin:  Well Wesker was making the right choice (in Penguin's opinion) about the head popping off thing. Besides, at this rate, there could certainly be room for a far different head.. popping off. And he assumed that Arnold would find that far more pleasurable then the other version. Oh and when the other man hadn't screamed or torn away from his teeth and everything.. can you imagine how that made Oswald feel?

 

 It was the first time he'd done that without practically having to pay off the person just to do what he enjoyed! Mr. Cobblepot was completely unaware at this point that the other could be possibly coming off his drugged high and back to his normal self (a normal self who probably despised him and found no attraction to him what. so. ever.) Though earlier in the evening he'd convinced himself it was just the drug, at this point he could have cared less anymore. There was a nice body in front of him who'd teased him all through the evening and he was not about to let such an opportunity...such willingness.. leave his flippered grasp. 

 

 "Mmm.. good answer." And with that they went right back into another very deep French kiss, and this time the Penguin decided to move his hand down along the curve of the other's spine and to his rear, giving a squeeze to the soaked through material covered flesh that was still surprisingly supple for Arnold's age. But little did Oswald know that even know the tide was starting to turn, and soon he may not have such a willingly groped Ventriloquist in his grasp.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  It was interesting how body and mind could work so completely different from each other. This situation itself was probably a very rare and unique if not utterly superb example. Very slowly, The Ventriloquist was coming back into his normal state of thinking, but even as he did, his mouth was still moving with the birds. Back arched slightly as that flipper began trailing down his wet back, feeling the clinging material groove as that wet flesh left a path along his spine. Between hot grasps of breath. Oh.. my.. god.

 

Teeth nibbled at the others lip again. What am I doing? Fingers rose up to Cobblepot's shoulders and kneaded as he grinded his mouth even harder into those sloppy tongue kisses. I'm .. kissing Penguin. He felt his cock throb and his mind wretch at the same time. Why am I kissing Penguin? It wasn't until that flipper landed on his ass and groped quite freely did mind and body attempt to verge as one.

 

The Ventriloquist gasped loudly and pulled back from the kiss. A hard pant left his chest and he stared for a moment. Stared past those dripping frames into the face of Gotham's richest, and probably one of it's most dangerous, crime bosses. Certainly much more dangerous then Scarface was. Oh my god.. what do I do? 

 

Wesker, honestly at this moment, didn't know what to do. He didn't feel so much revulsion as utter confusion. His body was still pulling at him to push right back into those hot kisses. It was so starved for them. But his mind had froze, well.. Wesker's side of the mind had froze. It seems the other 'side' had come off the RUSH as well. And well Scarface... was never one to keep his opinions to himself.

 

 "WHAT THE FUCK!?" The dummy's voice snarled out. "WHAT DAH FAGGOTRY IS DIS? EWWW DUMMY.. EWWWWW!" Wesker yelped after that! Yelped and suddenly banked away from the bird.

 

 

The Penguin:  Everything was starting to reach an all time high for the Penguin. As the kisses grew more and more intense and he groped more still, he was wondering perhaps if he should just lead Wesker right out of the pool and to somewhere where they could dry off together...naked. But alas, just as the Penguin was about to suggest such a brilliant idea, apparently things were not going as smoothly as he had hoped.

 

Oh yeah...that's just right...come to--Huh? His rather dirty thoughts came to a screeching halt when Arnold pulled away, and the look on his face was not as lustful and come-on as it had been previously. It was...confused? Well what was there to be confused about at this point!? By now his own tuxedo pants were somewhat draped around his own erection in the water, and he too gave the other a...concerned look.

 

 "..What's wrong..?" What's wrong? Well quite a few things indeed. For one, Arnold Wesker was making out with Oswald Cobblepot. That was a pretty glaring error if you think about it, logically. And yet he seemed to no longer care! So why was he suddenly having such a big issue with it....oh god. The affects. They were starting to wear off, weren't they? But before he could ponder the subject Scarface's awful screeches filled the air and caused the bird to let out a resentful squawk.

 

"..Arnold--! WAIT!" The little man splashing away from him only caused the Penguin to pursue him now, wading through the shallows. "Don't listen to him, you were ENJOYING it!  Come on!" He refused to beg the other to come back, but he could at least convince him that Scarface was just insane and really there was nothing all that disgusting about what had just happened, right!?  His eyebrows furrowed in irritation as he grumbled. You just shut up Scarface or I'll see to it you get ground up in a wood cutter..

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Wesker lost his balance and ended up sitting in the shallow end a few feet from the still wadding Penguin. If those glasses hadn't been covering his eyes, one would have bet they were really wide. His mouth was open, his lip was trembling. Oh my god what was I.. He was enjoying it? Well obviously. Arnold could still feel the hardness in his pants. Torn. Utterly torn. Did he want to get back up and clutch at the bird again? Yes! Did he want to suddenly run screaming from this house? Yes! Did he want to ball up in the water and drown? Yes!

 

 " I... I .. oh god I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.. Mr. Cobblepot I.."

 

" Oh my god, what?" Scarface's nasty voice interrupted Arnold. " Oh dis is rich, you's thought ‘e was actually all hot fer yah peck-peck? Oh common, Fatass, even Dummy HAS more taste then dat. It was dah damn drug."

 

" No I.. " Wesker's vision shot to where Scarface was floating around near the filter. Penguin was closer to him then the Ventriloquist himself. His gaze slid back to the way Oswald had looked almost pleading. God, what was he suppose to do. He felt.. sad and disappointed? Confused and afraid of course.  He slowly stood up in the shallows, water pouring off his clothes and body, taking a few steps to the side. Vision went back to Mr. Scarface. "Mr. Scarface.. the drug.. "

 

"..works great! Gut yer not gettin' it again. Common Dummy if yer dat horny I'll get yah a hooker, gut for the love of fuckin' GOD, get over 'ere and get me an’ stop all dis GAY shit at once." How horrible was this? Wesker flushed hard, more so with the fact that standing, his own arousal was still plainly obvious in his pants. That's why Mr. Scarface suggested the hooker. Wesker felt embarrassed. Why is he being so mean to Mr. Cobblepot? It was just a misunderstand.. oh god.. just a misunder..

 

..then why did he feel so empty now?



The Penguin:  "Shouldn't have done it!? So you're saying you regret it now?" The bird hissed out as he watched Wesker back pedal and try to weasel his way out of the situation. Well great. He stood up to his full (and not so impressive height) in the water, arms crossed over his chest. His clothing was dripping too, water running down his face from his damp black hair along his shoulders. Listening to Scarface explain the "truth" of the situation caused more rage out of the bird then anything. His flippers balled into fists as they dropped to his sides.

 

"Scarface I'd believe you save for the fact that the drug isn't some kind of arousal thing. If it was he would have been blindly humping and flirting with everything in sight! But no.. you zero' d right in on me. Isn't that right, Arnold?"

 

 He turned his gaze back over to the trembling man in the water who was moving off to the side as if to evade the situation all together. And yet, as soon as he said that, his own expression almost softened and seemed to say 'Right?! You can't honestly have just...it wasn't! It felt so real! Don't lie to me.." Because if he lied that would almost be worse then it truthfully just being the drug. Then that meant Arnold was.. embarrassed by the bird and whatever he may have felt.  But a sour look came over his face at the mention of hookers. He looked down at the arousal in Wesker's pants that matched his own.

 

"..Well? Are you going to walk out of here and get some bimbo to finish the job? Or stay here with a person who actually wants you?" He just hoped Scarface would stay quiet long enough to let Arnold think this over for himself. Plus, admitting be speech he wanted the other man hadn't been the easiest thing for the prideful bird, but he wasn't one to lie about something so life-affecting (at least it was in his opinion.)

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Well obviously the aching hard-on in the little man's pants was a good indicator of how he really felt. Even with all of Scarface's screaming and how confused and scared Wesker was feeling it hadn't diminished. Since Cobblepot had ceased to move, Wesker had as well. Standing there in the shallows of this man's pool, dripping with water and shaking rather viciously. " I.. But I.. "

 

The words from the bird hit him hard. Very hard. Contradicting what Scarface had previously screamed at him. It was the drug, wasn't it? I've never acted out like this before.  Now Wesker didn't have thoughts like with this man, or oh god, he's disgusting. Truth be told, Wesker had always felt a little bad for Oswald Cobblepot. After all, he knew what it was like to be shunned and cast aside. To not have any true friends, or anyone to really love you. Had RUSH just let him see past his fear and allowed him a moment to attempt to share this kind of feeling with someone who'd really needed it? His own arms came up to grip at his own elbows and the Ventriloquist huddled into his own self.

 

 " I don't.. I can't.. " What? He.. wanted him? Penguin wanted him? And not just because he'd been an obvious cock tease? Would still want him after Mr. Scarface screamed all those nasty things at him? Wesker's vision finally went back to the birds face and caught that softer expression. Eye line traveled then, from that look, to the birds own erection, then over to Mr. Scarface. Back again and back again, and he felt a sob building up in the back of his throat.

 

"Mr. Cobble...Oswald.. I'd want nothing more in the world.. but.. "   Mr. Scarface! That's the problem. Now that the Dummy was off RUSH as well, like hell would he let Wesker and Penguin have a tender moment.

 

 "Gut NOTHIN' Dummy! You heard dah gurd, paddle yer fairy ass over 'ere and lets get goin'.  My woods startin’ tah swell. "

 

 

The Penguin:  All of Wesker's stuttering and stalling was putting the bird of edge. It wasn't a yes or a no.. it was something horribly confused and in-between that left him guessing as well. Unlike Wesker, Mr. Cobblepot was in no way shivering or anything. Infact what he considered to be his normally cold blood was practically boiling in his veins. He was amazed steam wasn't rising off of him or coming out of his ears in pure anger at Scarface for ruining this moment of perfection for him. But he was at least standing and able to watch all for the various emotions conflicting run across his expression. Fantastic. How come he was NEVER confused about what he wanted in life?

 

 Maybe it was because he'd always been determined to know what he wanted so he could get it from people by whatever means necessary. And finally when Arnold burst out in the confession of sorts, his mouth opened to speak by Scarface got to him first. That's it. He would no longer just stand there and eventually wait for Arnold to get away.

 

Before he had even the slightest chance of going to retrieve the whining Scarface, Oswald swiftly waded through the water and closed the distance between himself and the mousy man at the pool's edge. Pinning him to the ledge, he glowered up at him with a sudden bit of a smirk. And he made a point to press his groin against the other's as well. Just as a ...reminder of what had taken place previously.

 

"..Don't 'but' me, Arnold. Don't deny yourself any longer.  I can give you whatever your little heart desires." He cooed to the other, one flippered hand moving suddenly to trace along the other's inner thigh slowly. With the tables turned, it was now Oswald who was doing the flirting and touches that earlier on RUSH Arnold had used to drive the Penguin into a frenzy of his own.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Confusion, sadly was a big part of Arnold Wesker's life. He was confused over his mental state, confused over wither he was good or evil, and now he was utterly in a pickle over wither or not he wanted to a lustful fulfilling night with Oswald Fucking Cobblepot Esq, or run like a bitch. That was always Scarface's last resort, when the stakes were too high and the shit was about to hit the fan. RUN AWAY! But, Wesker didn't really want to run away. At that moment, he almost wished Mr. Scarface would get sucked into the filter already and he could just melt into the bird that was suddenly pressing him into the ledge of the pull.

 

"Ohh!" Back arched a bit as groin was dug into groin and flipper traced wetly on an inner sensitive thigh. The Ventriloquists mouth pulled in a wince as he bit back a groan, teeth exposed. It was almost like he was in pain. He wants you, Arnold. Really wants you. This isn't prison or too many drinks at a bar. The drugs worn off and he still wants you. Wesker pressed hard into the ledge of the pool, cowering back for a moment. Everything your heart desires. Now to that, Wesker pulled his face from that cringe and brought his eye line back to the bird again, like many times before tonight, their faces came inches apart.

 

"Dummy?" Scarface's broke the silence. "Dummy? .. Don't you dare.."

 

Wesker's lips slowly pulled into a very soft smile. Yes. Just once. Could he not.. just.. listen to Scarface? Here he was, in a pool, with Penguin, they were both aroused, he was off the drug, and yet he lingered. "I'd like y-you to show me everything." Voice was barely above a whisper, just so the dummy couldn't hear. "Can we leave him floating?"

 

 

The Penguin:  Running away worked when the Bat was involved. But Mr. Cobblepot was not so easily thwarted. Infact, he probably would have pursued the Ventriloquist to the ends of the earth just to get a solid answer. And...if it was no and Scarface laughed in his face, it wouldn't be hard to get them back. He'd merely pull the plug on his factories and spread the word to other crime bosses in town after flashing a bit of green their way not to do business with Scarface as well. It wasn't the.. nicest alternative, but he wasn't going to feel like being very nice if he got the shaft. And not the good kind of shaft.

 

 He now watched Arnolds closely to see what kind of reaction his.. boldness was going to receive. Would he cringe and try to escape? Hm. It could definitely be possible. But, he still felt the other had a bit of an erection going at least. So he was waiting with a slight eyebrow raise, moving his pointed nose and face in closer...and closer..

 

GOD DAMN SCARFACE. His brow furrowed as that voice interrupted the mood he was hoping to set. But.. what was this? Would he not have to sic a white herd of beavers on Scarface to punish him for all of this? Because just as he was about to snap a retort to the wooden door, that smile coming to Wesker's face caught his attention, and he felt his own eyes widen. Really? REALLY? Penguin!Triumphant!  He couldn't believe that the whisper Wesker made was actually more of a turn on to him then anything else prior this evening. But it was enough to cause him to moan just a little, and a smirk come to his face moments later.

 

"..Don't worry, the pool man can fish him out." He muttered softly in return before he suddenly wrapped an arm around Wesker and began to lead him out of the shallow in. That's right Scarface, you are officially being ditched. The bird, as suave as ever, saw to Arnold getting out of the pool, and the two dripping men headed back into the mansion. Once they finally got inside he leaned over and licked along the shell of Arnold's ear briefly before murmuring. "..You really should smile like that more often, it's quite lovely." His hand moved back down to give another grope to Arnold's ass as he lead him toward his own grand bed and bath.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Indeed, Penguin had won. Not really over Wesker, the older man would have always been willing. There was just a hunk of evil homophobic wood that always said other wise. In a sense, right there as Arnold agreed to slid out of the pool with the bird, he'd won too. If just for the night. He was pretty sure Mr. Scarface would have wooden fucking kittens whenever he got back to him.

 

Yet even Arnold couldn't help but grin as the two of them stepped from the pool and headed into the mansion and all he could hear behind him was "YOU FUCKIN' FAG! I'M GONNA CAP YAH FOR DIS! DUMMY DON'T YOU DARE! PENGUIN! YOU FUCKIN' DICK! DUMMY! NO! COME GACK 'ERE! DUMMY! DUMMY! DUMMMMMMY!"

 

And it felt good. Oh god it felt so good. It almost felt so good to just walk away from Scarface, with an arm around Penguin, Wesker almost creamed himself in his goddamn pants. Luckily he managed to hold that off. Might spoil the night. Once they were heading down the hall, leaving a dripping sopping trail behind them, Wesker tilted his head down toward the bird, hearing his compliment, and the little guy smiled a bit wider. " Well.. I.. don't have much to smile about usually. " He shivered to the trail of the tongue on his ear and nuzzled down with his nose.

 

"Thank .. youUUUU!" A small jump to the sudden ass grope. My god! It was true. Penguin had an honest attraction to Wesker, and Wesker himself? Why the little guy let himself laugh lightly, not needing RUSH to feel this way and leaned down to plant a full deep kiss on the bird's lips. "Mmmgh." It wasn't as sloppy as a kiss as some of the ones before, but it honestly said. I want you, simple as that. Now to see that lovely bed and bath Penguin was ushering him into.

 

The Penguin:  A piece of wood that really deserved a plague of termites. Really now. Almost anyone would agree (except Wesker probably, who would cry if he found the sawdust remains of an eaten Scarface no doubt. But..there were two large flippered arms to always go running to!) ...Not the Mr. Cobblepot would be -that- sinister. Not unless he was really really scared about Wesker leaving him or wanted to vengefully get back at him. Though the first of those two was frighteningly starting to become a more promising issue.

 

The screams of Scarface that appropriately faded away as they walked off thanks to Arnold's true ventriloquist talents only made the bird's smug grin get even bigger. Perhaps he could get over this really nice expensive suit being ruined if things could continue going so well. As the cries faded and they came inside he leaned over and muttered. "Don't worry, once RUSH starts making him bags of money, he'll be seeing the dollars signs and forget alllll about this night." The bird knew money talked after all, and it was a shame that they both almost had to "buy" being able to spend time with each other, but he thought it was worth it.

 

At the other's comment about not having reasons to smile, he merely wrapped one arm around Arnold's waist and leaned into that nuzzling. "..Awwrk. Well perhaps that shall change in good time." He would see to it, no doubt. He tried to keep his mind focused on actually getting them to the desired room though Wesker distracting him with such a kiss was rather potent and he returned it eagerly before managing to keep them moving when it broke off. "You're very welcome." A true gentleman, of course! Soon enough they finally passed through two double doors and into a very large and lavish bedroom, the king size mattress covered neatly and the decor of the room a dark blue scheme. Surprisingly more tasteful then some would think! The door to the bathroom was visible as he made a gesture around the room.

 

"Well we..have a few options. I can call up for some champagne or food..we could..wash off the chlorine from the pool..or perhaps skip all of the casual foreplay and just get to the good stuff."

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  He could have been one hell of an entertainer with how well he could vent his throat and throw his voice ( or Mr. Scarface's voice for the matter ) and make it sound like it was actually coming from another room. It was what Wesker had really wanted to do with his life, but as Gotham would see fit, the city had stolen such a dream from him and placed that disgruntled, violent, evil hunk of Black-Gate gallows into his arms. In giving the Ventriloquist more reasons to smile, even if it just honestly turned out to be an empty promise, Penguin was doing a wondrous thing for the small man's ego.

 

So if he couldn't entertain millions for years, he could entertain one man, for one night, and maybe even more! Without Scarface. Wesker might feel bad later, when he was back with the puppet, because of course the hunk of wood would let him know just how disrespectful he'd been. As for that, right now, Arnold didn't give a shit. He sighed happily as Cobblepot nuzzled him and lead him into that quite glorious bedroom. From beneath those thick glasses eyebrows were raised.

 

"My goodness, this is nice." A hellava lot nicer then most of the places he'd stayed in. Scarface was all about modest comfort, he hoarded money, for more crimes. The puppet didn't feel the need to own property that wouldn't turn a profit. Cobblepot obviously thought different. Wesker didn't mind, those sheets looked mighty comfortable, and the thought of curling up into them with the bird was .. actually very alluring. Who would have thought!

 

The Ventriloquist looked toward the bathroom, then back down at Cobblepot as the other purposed him with the choices. Now while having a nice bath to cleanse off the pool gunk and then sipping Champagne sounded very nice, and honestly Wesker about considered it, the throbbing in his pants was a much more demanding issue. Leaning down, Wesker brushed wet forehead to wet forehead with the bird and nibbled his long nose lightly with a little murr. Wesker was too mouse like to make bird noises.

 

"I think I've teased you enough tonight, Mr. Cobblepot, no need to bestow my fancy anymore. " Hands went to the birds suspenders, only this time he was going to tug them off, sliding them down round shoulders.

 

 

The Penguin:  There was no better way to get Oswald in the mood by then taking the initiative like so. The bird was actually almost expecting Wesker to request the bathroom usage and such.. but before he could even list off the various types of good champagne available...that white haired and damp man came pressed up against him and the bird let out a delighted squawk of approval toward the nibbling to his nose. He nuzzled it in some as he grabbed the other's narrow hips and forced him to come right back groin to groin again. His erection was by no means gone yet either. And he wasn't going to let Wesker out of his line of vision before that little problem was fixed now. Watching his suspenders get removed though...that made him smirk with delight.

 

"..Really now? Well that is very considerate of you Mr. Wesker. Unfortunately, I have my own means of procuring what I want that's a bit more direct then.. just teasing." It only took a slightly forceful nudge forward with his round belly and the two of them were moving toward the bed. And what pray tell was he planning to do? Those glimmering sharp teeth seemed to say it all, as when they reached the low edge of the bed, he pushed the glasses wearing man onto the bed and leaned over him.. as if about to press a forceful kiss to his lips.. when that head ducked and he took a swift moment to removed that wet black suit jacket Wesker was wearing. It landed with a dull soaked noise as he flung it aside, and then began his plan of action.

 

Those sharp teeth suddenly began, one by one, ripping off each button of Wesker's white shirt. One would be severed from the material, and then spit out off to the side with a smirk, until finally the shirt was completely opened and he could run that thin tongue up from Wesker's lower belly where the shirt ended allllll the way to his collar bone.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  "Mmmgh." Groin to Groin. Wesker let out a bit of a gasp to the sharp prodding he received as a pleasurable compliment to his selfishless act of by-passing Mr. Cobblepot's hospitality. Eyes safeguarded by glasses rolled up into his skull for a moment and hot breath hissed out over the birds nose. "Umph.. Oh you do? What would that beee ah!"

 

 Belly was pressing him back to the bed now. For a moment before he actually landed on the soft item, the Ventriloquist felt a little sorry for the good sheets and comforter he was about to get soaking wet. Well The Penguin had already ruined a good pair of clothes, shoes and probably waterlogged his monocle, would bed sheets be all that bad in the conquest for a bit of pleasure? The abandonment of items for lust was a turn on, but even so much more a turn on for the Ventriloquist? The way the bird DID just shove him into the bed with that gleaming sharp smile. Wet clothes or not. And god, when those teeth found those buttons and literally chewed their way down to the bottom of his shirt? Back arched against the now damp bed and he let out a moan. Pale damp chest was exposed, still gleaming with the pool water. He wasn't flawless, he had scars from past attackers, scars from the Bat, he even had a bullet wound through his side where Scarface had shot him once, just above his pudgy little belly. Flaws were not an issue here.

 

The Ventriloquist couldn't have been more attracted to the bird that was now licking his collarbone, then anyone else in his entire life. Those sharp teeth,  that wicked smirk, hallowish eyes and slick black hair? Mmmgh. Had his pants not been already soaked, the way his own cock was already leaking in his pants would have been a dead give away. Mismatched hands shifted into Penguin's black soaked strands.

 

 "O-oswald, oh god.." He gasped and pressed his face down against the bird's hair, right where his hands entangled and nuzzled with a pant.

 

 

The Penguin:  This was going to be one of those wonderful moments where just the smell and aura of sex wouldn't leave the two men for days upon end. Perhaps it was because both were so very needy for a touch, look, or glance from a person? Or maybe they were really just that attracted to one another. Both scenarios seemed plausible, perhaps there was a mix of both.

 

One way or another, all Oswald could really think of at the moment was how badly he wanted to see the smaller man naked, and how nothing more mattered. Though hearing the other moan out his real..real given name like that made the bird shudder easily, almost distracting him from his next desire. He let his tongue run circles along Arnold's neck, tasting the chlorine and salty flesh beneath, kissing and leaving small bites in his wake as well.

 

"..Arnold.." He cooed out in return, before he moved back just enough to be able to watch himself grab hold of the other man's soaking pants and begin to pull them down and off. The wet underwear went as well, and just as the cool air of the room hit the other's revealed wet flesh, his dark eyes focused in on the erection at hand. Literally at his hand.. for it had come down and slowly began pumping at the base. There really was an upside to his flippered fingers.. his grasp could still be firm, bit it was far more smooth and easy to move up and down that shaft to maximize the other's pleasure.  Though he didn't just start beating away. He leaned back down after shrugging off his own wet black coat, letting his lips brush over Wesker's briefly as he groaned out.

 

"...It's nice to see just how erect you've kept.. believe me, I'll make sure you cum, and then some." His hand not jerking Wesker off began to try and undo the button of his own water logged tuxedo pants as best he could without interrupting the moment to much as his eyes roved over the certainly not perfect. .but appealing to his tastes none the less.. body before it. "Lovely."

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  One would think having Oswald Cobblepot slinking and biting over their body would be a frightening thing, well in a different scenario it might have been, but all Arnold could possible do to each nib and slip of tongue was groan and shiver. Less with the cooling water on his body and more from the other's touches. Especially when those flipper hands had finally freed his throbbing erection from the confines of those tight wet pants. It was utterly stiff and weeping. And on god.. that hand.

 

A quirk of his lower spine slid the smaller man's cock hard against that flipper's smooth palm, especially to those words. Ugh, If Penguin kept being so smooth, Wesker wasn't sure he could containing himself. Was it possible to ejaculate on words alone? Lovely? He was lovely? Face flushed red as the Ventriloquist pressed back into those brushing lips and whispering words. "Now..y-you're the one teasing.." He hushed right back. Grunting against the bed, he shifted away from that fondling hand, sliding to his knees before the bird.

 

"Let me.." Another press of lips against the other's face. Tongue flickering for a moment. His own hands landed on Cobblepot's to stall his undressing. One hand’s fingertips brushed the softness of the Flippers palm, the other, his puppet hand went up to the birds collar and began unsnapping the buttons in a slow but easy manner. Quick little fingers he had, adapt for Scarface's intricate controls. He'd slowly exposed the birds plumage like his life depended on it. Flipper that had been fondling his cock was pulled up to his face and Arnold nuzzled into it’s palm. It smelt like the pool, like sweat and like himself. Would it taste the same? Tongue flinted out between the thumb and the conjoined fingers.

 

"You're.. hands are really soft, Oswald." Another cheek nuzzle, another lick.

 

 

The Penguin:  He wasn't going to argue with the other man suddenly offering to help undress him. Infact the more he got to watch Wesker do anything (naked especially) the better. He leaned back some and watched those skilled hands go to work undoing the wet dress shirt he wore. Somehow the tie he was wearing had been lost in the pool, nothing of major consequence to him. But the man's pale, large chest was soon exposed, and he did his very best to block out a sudden unkind wave of self consciousness that bubbled up into his throat. He couldn't let Wesker know how actually worried he was about this moment.

 

Oswald had no problems with the other man being naked, but his own nakedness? He talked confident and certainly had a skillful handle on words that had easily wooed and turned Arnold on, but words couldn't mask the truth about his body. It just was not very nice by the standards of modern day society.

 

But just as that wet shirt hit the floor and he was about to finish with the pants, suddenly Wesker took his flipper and began...Oh God. Oswald (if he was able to think straight at the moment) wouldn't have been able to recall a moment in his life that made him feel more turned on or tugged on his heartstrings more then this. And believe me, those heart strings were quite dusty and far less used then other marionettes or easily manipulated objects (like Scarface).

 

 His mouth opened as if to say something but for once the articulate Penguin couldn't produce anything more then an "..Ohhh..." As he watched and felt the delightful ministrations of Arnold's tongue. No one had ever even really wanted to shake his deformed hand, and here this man was.. causing throbbing in his groan by those licks to it! 

 

"A-arnold.. thank.. youuu..." He cooed out after a light gasp. Oh no, he couldn't let this go on and not give Arnold there the very ride of his life. "There's.. lubricant.. in the side drawer on the night stand.. I'm afraid I.. ohhh.. am greedy for the 'good stuff' sooner then I expected." He hissed out. The only reason he said this to him was just because physically Wesker was closer and dammit he had longer arms! And it was going to take Oswald a few moments to recover from this euphoria to his senses.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, it was always stated. So Mr. Cobblepot honestly needn't worry about wither the sight of his naked flesh was going to put Wesker out of the mood or not. He'd been willing and friendly up to this point, something the small man was utterly starved for. His words and the feel of his hands had been plenty arousing that a little girth wasn't going to have the Ventriloquist shrink back in horror. In fact Arnold only flushed a little bit and gave another lick to that flipper before it was pulled away. Penguin looked soft and warm, he had lust in his eyes and he seriously wanted Wesker, there was nothing more alluring then that.

 

 A "You're welcome." was murmured out. So here sat Wesker on his knees, in nothing but his glasses and his socks, hands going to the Penguin's fly to help the bird out of his tight confines when the sudden imperative was hinted in the other's breath. Wesker himself bit back a needful moan and he nodded. "That's fine, in fact, wonderful..  I-I'll fetch it."

 

 But not before he at least tugged the bird's cock free from his tuxedo britches. Opening the fly enough to pull the length free, giving it a gentle run up along it's veiny hard but delicate surface, tips of cleaver fingers pulling away sticky. Trailing the head with those tips as he turned and crawled across the bed to the nightstand. He tried to find the lube as quickly as possible. He'd never thought that pulling away from Cobblepot would be a painful thing. But it was, it made his own cock throb and a rush of panic in his veins. At least it was a good show of wiggling for the other's view. The older man's ass wasn't dumpy, just pale and soft and just little bit plush. All the pasta obviously went to that general area.

 

Hands shifted through the drawer, odds and ends of things and he finally found the tube and about flipped as he crawled his way back to the bird, with grin. "Mmm here you go. "

 

 

The Penguin:  Oswald finally seemed to be coming out of that state of utter bliss and slight confusion when Arnold stopped just before he went to get the lube to make one little adjustment--the removal of his own damp pants. He kicked them off of his ankles and over into the rest of the damp pile of their clothing with a slight bit of hurry.

 

Apparently Arnold going off and away from him was just as much of a pain to Oswald as it was to the other, who, watching that older man's rear bounce, was reaching down with a slight groan and touching his own erection now. He couldn't help it, the sight was incredibly delicious, and wherever that pasta might've gone didn't really matter so much to the bird, it just looked good enough to sink his own teeth into. But soon enough Wesker returned, and he was broken from his stare when he saw the grin on the other man's face. He reached out and took the small tube with a little grin of his own.

 

"Why thank you my good sir.." He tipped forward a little, before he squeezed out the item acquired and began to lather his erection in the slick gel. When he felt it was satisfying enough, he tossed the item aside and reached out with one slippery palm and the other dry to pull himself onto the bed where Wesker was still perched on his hands and knees. "Just.. stay like that. I like it." Because it was very easy to come up behind the other and spread those ass cheeks apart, giving the sensitive, puckered area a few presses with those lubricated flippers.

 

"Mrrrr.." He didn't really know what was better: the satisfaction of getting what he wanted, or the fact that it was Arnold Wesker and he had proceeded to push his way right into his thoughts and take up residence in his fantasies. None the less, after that bit of teasing to the desire hole, he stood up and with the firm bed's nice support had no need to worry about balance as he positioned his cock right over Wesker and began to slide that flesh into his tight entrance with a loud gasp of excitement. "Ohhhh! Yes!"

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  He liked it eh? Well Arnold honestly had no quaffs with the position. If Cobblepot wanted him like this, well damn straight he could have him. Honestly the bird could have thrown him over the side of the bed, mushed his face into the floor and at this point, Wesker wouldn't have given a damn, just so long as it happened. Mm, actually wanton and excited to have Penguin inside him?

 

Oh yes. Face flushed and he panted a bit as the bird climbed onto the bed and stood up behind him. A hard shiver ran up his spine to the feel of that lubricated flipper pressing against that rather sensitive puckered flesh. It sent a fresh wave of awareness right though the little guy. God it been forever since he'd found himself in a willing position like this, where he was anticipating what was going to happen, feeling his cock leak and even his prostate ache. When was the last time he'd wanted someone, anyone, this bad?

 

"Mgh.. O-oswa..aaahhh God!" Head dipped down between his splayed mismatched hands when he felt the other's greased up cock pushing into him. He fought to not instinctively tightening around the hard flesh as it side into him. Body that had been washed of sweat from the pool was starting to bead with droplets again, just feeling that. Fingers gripped into the damp bed sheets and he splayed his thighs a little further apart, subordinate and very willing to take it all. For such a little bird, Penguin had a pretty decent cock, it was making the Ventriloquist give heated little moans and harder heaving breaths till Cobblepot found his hilt.

 

"Oh god.. ng that's .. " A gasp, a shift of hips, even a press back against the bird. "..really nice. "

 

 

The Penguin:  All of those delicious moans Wesker made beneath him where just what the bird had been waiting and practically salivating over. Sure it could feel great to him until the end of time.. but to have the person beneath him moaning his name and other little incoherent phrases? That was the ticket. Indeed his cock wasn't huge but it was of a reasonable size, and it was felt much more then actually seen because the rest of his body was large enough to make it seem a bit smaller then it actually was. No matter though.. what was that phrase everyone said? 'It's not the size that counts, but how you use it.' Heh.

 

Well whatever the case was, Oswald  was going to use it to the best of his abilities, and it was driven home clearly as he finally got himself in all the way to the hilt. Moving both his hips and Wesker's as well that he'd grabbed onto them. He made sure he got nice and deep within him, just ghosting at that sweet spot in Wesker where once hit would indeed send waves of pure pleasure through him. And after he felt he'd spent long enough enjoying those tight walls and muscles squeezing at his erection, he pulled himself almost entirely out.. just in time to hear the other breath to word nice out. Oh Arnold, you may want to take that back, because this dirty bird had more in mind then just a 'nice' fuck.

 

His face curled into one of those dangerous smirks, and without missing a beat, he soon began making use of that lubricant as he began to pump his girth in..out..and right back into Arnold with much more vigor then that first penetration. Head tilted back as he groaned out, hips gaining a delightful quick rhythm. "Mrrr...oh yeah babyyy...that's..it...! Ahh!" Now those deeper thrusts too were hitting in to that male g-spot of Wesker's.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Well, you couldn't blame him, up to now, asides from the little biting and random moment of uncertainty in the pool, Cobblepot had been pretty nice to Wesker. ( Even if he did EAT the buttons off his shirt! ) The older man was just there, deliciously positioned on his hands and knees, lingering to the feeling of being full penetrated and expecting a slow rhythm to begin. Something they could work into, but oh ho! Penguin did sure surprise him when the bird's cock was shoved back in with much more gusto then had been expected.

 

"Aaah!" A sharp cry and face pushed into the comforter as his entire body jerked. The head of the other's cock nudged right into that sweet spot and Wesker spazed against the bed. "Oh g-aaah!" Before he could even fully register that first full thrust, the bird was thrusting deep and aiming true. It took a moment, ( Complete with a few more enticing moans and cries ) but Arnold adjusted to the pace and finally pulled his head from the comforter to gasp and look over his shoulder up at the other villain. He caught that naughty smirk and the 'baby' as it was huffed out and it made Wesker groan even louder. Knees lightly left the bed with each quick deep thrust that rocked his frame. Sweat had ceased to bead and was now dripping down the side of his face.

 

"Ah, god..yes.. yes.. Mgh, more."  Certainly the bird knew how to use that cock of his, and he about had the Ventriloquist screaming back for more. For a man that was usually meek and quiet choosing to voice himself through that wooden dummy, Arnold Wesker was a noisy little fuck. Ah but he couldn't help it. It was just that good. No it was more then good, it was, it was.. "Ahgod Oswald! P-please, harder!"

 

Wesker might of been issued to speak a bit more naughty, but it was Wesker after all, but he knew what he wanted, how he wanted it. And he'd beg if he had too.

 

 

The Penguin:  More? Harder? Please? All of these words Mr. Cobblepot liked very very much. Certain words like 'No', and 'Stop' put him off greatly, but Arnold Wesker at this moment was clearly speaking his language. He knew it could have been a hit or miss with the rather fast pace thrusts he took, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Because if Arnold liked it, then it was going to make things feel even more pleasurable.

 

 We wouldn't say that the Penguin got -a lot- of practice doing it, but he'd watched enough porn and gotten his flippers on enough people to know just how he wanted to give it to Wesker now. Perhaps later on things could get mushier, and pillow talk could take place, but for now, all he had on his mind was watching that little man writhe and moan beneath him as he fucked him into next Tuesday.

 

And oh how sweet those words were, causing Mr. Cobblepot to dribble out even more incessant pre-cum into Wesker as shivers of pleasure mixed in with what he already felt radiating from his cock. That usually timid voice of the other was taking on a new inflection of begging and loudness that cause Oswald to only thrust faster and faster, his hair now damp on his face less from the water and much more from sweat he was starting to be drenched in. His large chest was panting heavily now as he felt himself growing closer and closer to his orgasm.

 

Leaning forward he reached down and grabbed a hold of Arnold's cock then, beginning once again to pump it in time with his quick and powerful thrusts, a hot breath leaking over the man beneath him’s ear.

 

"...Uhhnn..I love it when you..aahh..get so loud! Keep talkin'...I'm gunna give you..every..thing." That 'more' and 'harder' kicked in at that moment as he gasped out, knowing just a bit more of this and he'd be in heaven.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  "Ye----eesssSSS!" If what Mr. Cobblepot wanted was for Mr. Wesker to continue to voice his favor of the extra vigor to their fucking, well, Mr. Cobblepot was not going to be disappointed. Later, Wesker might be a bit embarrassed to remember he'd been practically singing for the bird. That was rather ironic as it came to be, what bird didn't want to hear their mate chirping in gusto to a good rump?

 

"Y-yes, like t-that yes.. ahhhh" He honestly could have produced those beggaring moans and yelps into the other room if he wanted, probably making a maid or butler blush. That flipper that was curled around his own cock and pumping away made him writhe and press back harder. At least the bird did not tease and was good on his word, for once he was throwing his weight into it, Wesker found himself more clinging on for the ride with his life then merely being a passenger. Each thrust caused his body to jerk forward before the sticky flipper on his hip and his own knees pushed him back into it. Fingers were gripped so tightly into the bed sheets his knuckles were turning white. Honestly the only thing that wasn’t jerking about was his glasses. So very attached to his face, and glimmering with the sweat that glistened down his forehead and onto the frames.

 

"Yes. Yes. Yes." With every rock forward. He'd never said the word more in his life, not even with Scarface was he this diligent. But such a rhythm could not be held onto forever. As much as Arnold would have love to have stayed in this perfect mix of pleasure and raw sex,  such hard thrusts were going to have him spent in a moment. The way it was building up inside him promised to be explosive, promised a much needed release, promised he'd be sore in the morning.

 

But promised to be fulfilled none-the-less. "Oh god, I'm gon-ing to.. O-oswald.."

 

 

The Penguin:  Being a bit sore was a small price to pay for the kind of pleasure that came with him. Though how could he really be talking, he was the one giving it, not taking it! None the less, Mr. Cobblepot knew that dear Wesker's ass may not be happy for a while, but he would sooth any incessant pains if it came to that. The lubricant was slowly beginning to be rubbed into his skin, and it was probably a good thing in the end that they both were so close to coming. Their fucking may soon become dry and painful, and he just assumed Wesker would hate that just as much if not more so then he!

 

Currently, he was leaned over, soft stomach (sweating somewhat less then his chest was) was pressed against the other's back as he continued those wonderful jerking motions with his flipper given to Wesker's cock. It certainly was a moment to watch, as the man beneath him cried and gasped for more and more, and the Penguin himself felt that usual easy grasp on self control he had slipping.

 

"..Ahhh! Oh fuck..yesss..so goooddd.. Aaarnold..!" Hearing the  other practically sing to him it wasn't easy to stop himself from cooing and chirping right back as those teeth nashed just a little gritting together. He could feel the muscles in Arnold's body all tightening around him, swelling and preparing for the orgasm that would soon ravage the body beneath him. And his own body too was ready, muscles in his legs trembling as he wrapped arms around the other man's stomach and used a last burst of energy in his thrusts in hopes to send both of them over the edge..in just a..matter of moments! Arnold after all had admitted it was close, and now he took gasped. "I-I'm gunna--! AHH!.."

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Being sore would honestly be well worth this when he came out of it. Fuck, Wesker would probably be happily limping for a few days, face flushed and in good spirits, no matter how much Mr. Scarface screamed at him. Nothing could compare to this. The hard jerking cock inside him, the smooth flipper pumping him, the feel of the sweat and heat of the bird glowering over him. Penguin had promised to give him everything, and oh god did the bird come through. Come...Cum.. that was right, he was about to..

 

"AhhGODYES!" The Ventriloquist spazed out the birds name, not his 'Penguin' one either as he went right over the edge with a final nice hard thrust right to the held, nudging that tender and now overworked spot. He curled a bit, face pushed into the covers between his gripping fingers as his body tightened almost viciously around the bird's cock. His own erupted with a spurt of hot sticky white all over that flipper and onto the bed. His spine quirked hard and that white lick of pure pleasure in electric waves gripped him. He rode it out with high whimpers and gasps of "yes" and "oswald".

 

 In that moment there was no Scarface, there was no RUSH, there was just Mr. Wesker and Mr. Cobblepot and one hell of a finale.

 

 

The Penguin:  Mr. Cobblepot couldn't quite realize that finally, there would be an end to this until it really hit him. A shocking moment of Oh my God, I actually did it, I got Arnold into my bed and we did it and god it felt so good and now he's... flashed through the bird's mind and was rather appropriately interrupted by Arnold finally shooting off a very powerful orgasm, so much so that the Penguin cried out when those muscles tightened around his cock and the hot sticky liquid found itself covering his flipper.

 

A shudder ran through him as that seemed to set off a chain reaction in himself, the final erotic piece needed to send him over the edge as well. "Aghhh! Arnold! Oh YES! AHH!" The room was just full of their passionate cries, and indeed a butler or maid passing by may have found themselves blushing to hear the scratchy low voice of their employer screaming at the top of his lungs during his climax.

 

And oh that burst of his hot seed went shooting right into that tight ass he had been fucking with such resilience, determined to give Arnold -everything-..including that hot full feeling of his cum filling him at the end. Panting heavily locks of black hair dangled down into his face, mouth hung open to suck in air while he made a few last thrusts before slowly pulling his sticky cock out and collapsing backwards onto the bed trying to regain proper breathing and also come down from that immeasurable sexual high he just had experienced. But soon enough he sat over and dark eyes fell onto Wesker with a toothy smile pulling back thin lips.

 

"..My god..you're so wonderful..mrrrr.." He cooed out. Indeed, there was no Scarface or anyone else. All he could see hear feel taste touch breath was Arnold Wesker.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  There was probably going to be some talking around the Cobblepot mansion amidst the employees after this, but Wesker wouldn't care. Yes, at that moment, he didn't care if the entire fucking world knew he'd taken it up the ass from Penguin. Because it had been good, no better then good. Words didn't express the absolute high he was experience as he felt Mr. Cobblepot's hot sticky seed whitewashing his insides and flooding back out a bit with it's force. He even gave a few more low cries to the extra couple of thrusts the bird gave him before they both collapsed in their exhausted aftermath.

 

 For long moments Wesker just curled up into himself, panting and shaking. Glasses clicked against the sheets as he breathed in everything. The sweat, the smell of their bodies, the damp sticky sheets. This here, this right here, this was what paradise smelled like. Penguin's damp and now dirty bed was Wesker's personal cloud nine! Oh yes.

 

Slowly the Ventriloquist began to gain the wits Penguin had about fucked out of  him and raised his face out of the sheets to slowly turn around to face where the bird had sprawled himself. Small pants were still leaving his body as he shifted himself with a light groan and half sprawled onto Penguin's chest. Arms going around the birds shoulders and Wesker pressed his sweaty face into the birds neck. " Mm I don't think I have a..s-strong enough compliment for that Oswald. It was.. it was.." He smiled against the bird's damp flesh.

 

 "C-can I .. stay here.. all night with you?" Yes. It  was more then just the sex. More then just the clash of sweaty bodies. Wesker was not going to tuck and run now. He wanted to stay. And he'd NEVER wanted to stay before.

 

 

The Penguin:  There were a ton of jumbled thoughts battling around in his brain for victory, but only one thing remained crystal clear: That was amazing, and Arnold was amazing.

 

Whatever the hell it may be, the Penguin did know that he didn't just fuck someone and not care about who they were like he always imagined the really great ones would be. Oh no, he knew that man and his glasses and the pity he felt toward his condition and the way he screamed his name as he came. There were just so many reasons to like Wesker for the bird, that he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but let out a tender sigh when he felt that other body come up to his and nuzzle itself in even to the crook of his neck. A lazy arm came up and he curled it around Arnold's waist tucking him in closer as he murmured in reply.

 

"Don't worry about words to really describe that...it's impossible." It was practically magical for the two men, and now both still lay engulfed in one another's spell. But the Penguin only grinned wider and nodded. "Oh of course you can stay.. and tomorrow morning there will be a nice breakfast we can talk about our deal over. But for now.. I would love.. nothing more them to shower you with lavish attention."

 

With that he leaned in and began to kiss the other man's neck with a dark little chuckle. "..How does that champagne sound to you now?" He sat up a little and then noticed the stain on the sheets from their.. erhm.. love juices. "Looks like we've made a mess Arnold.. wonderful." Oswald said as he leaned in and nibbled at the delicate curve of Arnold's neck.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Ah yes, they were going to have much to discuss and who knows how this could grow. They might come completely off their high and commence with the deal and be done with it.. oh no, no way. This had to be something special. Three hours ago Wesker would have been utterly shocked at the idea that he might fall for Oswald Cobblepot, but look at him now. Nuzzling up to the bird on that messy King sized bed. His lips to the birds throat, his arms around the birds neck. A SMILE on his flushed little face.

 

"Thank you, that sounds like a wonderful plan. " The small man pulled his legs to the other's side and rested against him as Penguin sat up a bit and nibbled at the curve of Wesker's neck. His own hand trailed a little circle around on the bird's chest and he let out a happy sigh. "I think.. Champagne.. would be lovely now." A light nod of his head and he kissed Oswald's forehead. Oh if Scarface could see him now, the Dummy would have an absolute shit fit. Ah. Mr. Scarface, A wrinkle of Arnold's little nose.

 

"..would you send someone to at least fish Mr. Scarface out of the water and put him on the ground? I'd hate for him to be three times the size in the morning, I'd have trouble carrying him." Even if the images made Wesker chuckle a bit, and oh the Dummy deserved it, in a odd way, It was Mr. Scarface's fault this had all taken place. Why if he hadn't fed Wesker that RUSH, none of this would have happened.

 

 

The Penguin:  The maids were probably going to shudder with disgust when they began picking up their employer's bedroom tomorrow morning. They never really liked to touch his things in the first place, and this bedcover stained with their cum would probably almost make some faint. But in a way that just pleased the bird all the more, knowing he could have better and hotter sex then any of those brats. Still clinging closely to Arnold he returned a light nuzzle to the top of the other's head with a grin.

 

"Mmrrr good. But you're going to have to pry yourself off of me then if you do want that champagne." The bird gave a little chuckle and slowly slid off the bed after making one return kiss to the other man's forehead. As much as he didn't want to leave those thin and affectionate arms, he did go over to the bathroom and briefly.. wiped his dying erection clean and then for the decency of his staff members threw a dark red robe on over himself.

 

As he went and opened the bedroom door, there was a sudden gasp as three women and two men all stumbled back into each other. Oh yes, they'd been eavesdropping alright! But the Penguin, who usually would have bitch smacked them each with an umbrella for daring to interrupt his privacy, was in such good spirits that he merely chuckled and waved a flippered hand. "Go get us a goddamn bottle of champagne." And although it wouldn't take five people to do it, they all rushed off embarrassed as ever.

 

Mr. Cobblepot waddled back into the room and sighed. "I suppose we must've put on a really good show. Or at least your incredibly hot cries of passion were attention getting enough." A little wink was given to Arnold as he sat himself down on the edge of the bed.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Even though Penguin made the comment that Wesker would have to pry himself off so that the bird could call for room service, he honestly just rolled off Cobblepot as the other slipped out of the bed and into the bathroom. Wesker took the moment to sigh happily and sat himself up against the back of the bed with a little groan. His ass had gone numb, there was drying seed on his inner thighs, naked in Penguin's bed and he couldn't have been more happy! He nodded his head, hair still sweat stuck to his face at  the bird as Mr. Cobblepot made his way over to the door and flung it open.. to

 

"Eeeeeee!" Yes that was Wesker! Rather high pitch squeak at that. Glasses hid wide eyes. It was short and he didn't do much else other then that. Just sat rather surprised staring at all those faces staring  right back just as shocked. Oh my god.. his own mouth fell open a bit. Notice, though it wasn't until Cobblepot came back to the bed and shot him that complement about his cries of pleasure being 'incredibly hot' did he actually turn red and covered his face a bit with his hands. Ahah, but slowly shoulders started to shake, almost like he was sobbing, but it turned out Arnold Wesker was .. laughing.. yes LAUGHING!

 

 He let his hands raise to wipe under his glasses and with a few more chuckles crawled across the bed to where Cobblepot was sitting and threw arms around his neck with a mousy murr. "Well, maybe they'd better get use to it, because I wouldn't mind, as long you would have me of course, making this.. " He took a moment to shyly nip at the birds neck.

 

" …routine, Mr. Cobblepot?" Partners and more, maybe. RUSH had worn off, and he still wanted to stay with the bird. Heart starting to beat fast again, and without an aluminum can in sight.

 

 

The Penguin:  He couldn't help but arch an eyebrow when he heard that strange laughing/sobbing type of noise being issued from the other. Now the eek he had practically expected. But then when he realized Arnold had definitely been laughing that did make him smile more. Ah yes, so everyone was a bit nosey around here. But it made life more interesting anyway.

 

Mr. Cobblepot leaned back into the other man who came around to hold him from behind. Another toothy grin curled onto his face as he listened to the other man's "Proposition" for the future. A...routine, you say? There certainly was no RUSH left addling the other's brain, at least he could tell, so Oswald was feeling much more confident in believing the other's words, that there was more behind them then just hyper excitement and flirtatiousness. 

 

"Arnold, I think that is a very good idea. We could very easily...work something out." An almost sinister chuckle followed as he turned around to peck a few kisses on the other's face. But before he could snake that tongue out along the other's neck, the door was knocked on politely. A sigh was heaved as he slid away from the other and opened the door once again. This time just one brave maid was holding the chilled bucket and bottle of champagne as well as two glasses.

 

 "S'about time you showed up, do you think I'm paying you to pick up gossip for Gotham tabloids?" He snatched both items and slammed the door in her face. Aaah there was the Penguin we know and love. But as he came back over to Arnold and set the items down on the bed beside him, he was grinning.

 

"I love scaring them.. it's almost to easy!" With that, he took out the bottle and popped the cork right above them with a laugh. "Hold out your glass handsome. I think we should raise a toast.."

 

 

~*~

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  "To the success of RUSH, to our new partnership, may Gotham bring us in another heavy sum on it's next day of production. " Arnold Wesker clinked his glass against Oswald Cobblepot's and smiled from where he sat across the table from the bird. He pulled the glass back and swished the fine champagne around before taking a sip and sighed rather happily.

 

"May dah Gat tear his cowl off in frustration trying tah find out what the hell's wrong wit everyone in the Gurg!" Scarface did not have a Champagne glass, but the dummy was not complaining for once in it's life. It was seated on Arnold's crossed legs, gazing it's glass eyes over the side of the terrace of the third story private outside dining room at Cobblepot's Manson. Wesker's glasses shimmered in the moonlight as he tilted his head at the man across the table from home.

 

It had been four days since the night at the Stack Deck and everything was going smooth and fine. So well that even Mr. Scarface was willing to let his unfortunate float in the pool go as long as the green kept coming in. While he wasn't too keen on all the face sucking that kept going on, as long they kept to business, what the fuck ever.

 

Wesker wore his usually tuxedo and bow-tie/bower combo, but he was far less ragged and stressed then normal, in fact he seemed to have a healthy glow. Well, as healthy as a man with a split mind could have. "Did you have anything to add, Oswald?"

 

 

The Penguin:  And may I continue to fuck Arnold Wesker senselessly over my office desk.. and in the court yard.. and in the pool.. and in the kitchen...He managed to keep that toasting though quiet and in his head, though you could almost plainly see his thoughts in the smirk on his face across the table to Arnold and the dummy as he held up that glass of champagne.

 

They were very good toasts otherwise, and so far things that had been going on. A chuckle escaped his mouth as he even heard Scarface's bit about Batman's cowl. As he swished the contents of his glass around, his eyes rolled up as he pursed his lips in thought for a moment. A good toast? Wellll.

 

 "...I suppose all I wish to add is that may the commercial aired tomorrow gets good response, and that our PR person has a smooth press conference." Because they had hired a virtual unknown to "head" their company as the PR person and then the real owner's names were fake and made up. If people found out that The Penguin and The Ventriloquist were selling them RUSH they.. might be a little unnerved. No matter though, eventually when everyone was addicted they would barely have to worry.

 

"Oh.. and ..may the veal be cooked well enough tonight." Because, as this was a partnership, Oswald was beginning to.. learn to somewhat like foods other then fish that Arnold suggested. And they were going to try veal! Fancy that. Maybe he really did care about that glasses wearing man in front of him a lot more then anyone would have guessed, because he actually shared things, was very nice to him, and had even given him a special umbrella as a present yesterday. It had a blade on the end of it, his personal favorite.

 

And after he felt his toast had been good enough he reached out and clanked his glass traditionally with Wesker's, monocle glinting in the candlelight.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Fancy that indeed. Penguin was learning that a little human interaction could be a good one, and the Ventriloquist was learning that it was okay to open up to someone, even someone as outcasted as Cobblepot. Did he love him?

 

Maybe not yet. He defiantly did care for him though, more then he had for anyone in a long time. And honestly as long as the bird kept randomly surprising him with such hot moments of utter lust and passion he might just make that leap from liking to loving. For now though, the older man would enjoy the short portly man's attention and friendship as long as it would last, hoping it would last. That umbrella had surely been a sheer act of kindness, and Wesker had rewarded it with utter abandonment, scaring another maid that had opened the door to vacuum. Ah the poor help, they were just going to have to get use to it.

 

"Here, here." Arnold added and drained the half his glass.

 

"So Peck Pecks gonna try dah Lamg eh? Dat's a gig leap, mayge next week we's can get em tah actually really try dah Taco Gell, yah know I'm still cravin' dat shit. " Scarface clanged and shifted on Wesker's knee. It pulled a cigar from the small man's tuxedo and went about chewing on the end of it like a teething infant.

 

" Maybe, Mr. Scarface, Maybe.." Lips were pursed and the Ventriloquist raised brows at the Penguin. "You're very savvy and careful, Mr. Cobblepot, Mr. Scarface has great intuition and you've put it all together, as much as I usually distaste any crime, I'm glad at least you to can work together on this."

 

One had to remember, Wesker wasn't the criminal, Scarface was. In all due respects, Arnold had just decided, to set his mind at ease, that his only part in this whole venture was to be Penguin's play toy, and that, he didn't mind one bit, oh not one bit at all. "How long before they have the dinner cooked?"

 

 

The Penguin:  "Don't push your luck Scarface. It would be ME on RUSH that probably would end up eating Taco Bell. And don't get any ideas." He pointed his index flipper at the wooden person with a skeptical glance. But of course it only melded into a chuckle as he took his glass to his lips and drained the it down half way as well. Looking over the edge of the glass to Arnold, he grinned as he listened to his little rationalization speech.

 

Oh Arnold Arnold. So wonderfully innocent in one sense, and then so terribly evil another. That evil of course being personified by the being on his lap. One way or another he tipped his glass toward them both. "Crime is a state of mind, Arnold. Really, Mr. Scarface and I are just business men. In some people's point of view.. what we do is considered immoral and harmful, but to us? Why we're just trying to live out the American dream like everyone else! We're just going about it in a much more efficient manner."

 

No paper work bullshit, no FDA regulations.. bah! Who needed it? "Someday maybe the Bat will realize that even though we really have no concern about the welfare of our fellow Gothamites. .then maybe he'll start to understand what we do isn't a "crime" by any means, merely a very smart business venture."

 

 He grinned widely and concluded his explanation on crime with a last sip of his drink before waving a flipper. "I told them--" But before he could even finish the staff began to bring out the fine meal and the bird gave a squawk of delight. "I spoke to soon." Taking up a fork and knife, he looked at Arnold and shrugged. "Bon appetite."

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  Now here Arnold could have argued a good point, something about how it was wrong to take advantage of mankind for one's own personal gain and that Cobblepot should treat the rest of the world like he was treating him. ( Or close enough, Wesker was sure the rest of the world didn't need assramage along with fine wine, aha! ) But he just smiled and nodded, because this is Arnold Wesker after all, and he was never one to argue, not to Scarface, not to Dr. Arkham, and certain not with Penguin. It was much nicer to see the bird smiling and glowering in his intelligence and good grace, Wesker would let him have that. Be it a criminal or a businessman.

 

"Very well, we'll leave it at that." Arnold said.

 

"I coulda put dah RUSH in yer fancypancy drink yah know, you could ge drinking it riiiii-- 'ey dah foods 'ere!" Of course Scarface was bullshitting, but he always had to get the last words in. Wesker shifted his gaze down to the food and then nodded to the help as they topped off the champagne glasses and then scooted off.

 

" Mmm looks delicious. " He shot a smile to the bird and then did as he'd been instructed, digging into the veal and eating quietly.

 

 

The Penguin:  Arnold was very smart not to argue on the philosophy of crime with his lover, because no matter what the Arkham doctor had tried to jam into that split head of his, the bird would just scoff at it. People who didn't know what it was like to be the outcast or suffer always had the easiest time dishing out psychological diagnosis’s and advice for people. Tch. But he merely grinned across the table to the other, having said it mostly for Scarface's benefit.

 

Speaking to the...darker side of Arnold was sometimes quite amusing for him. If Arnold had decided to really get spitfire and disagree the bird may have just thrown a pointy fork or knife to silence his obviously WRONG arguments. None the less though, he was currently very content as the food was set down before them and he neatly picked up his silverware and began digging in. Though as hard as he tried he still.. ate with a certain almost animal like quality that many people considered embarrassing. Like he would use his flippers at time, tear with those sharp teeth, and so on and so forth.

 

 "Mmrrr. Well it's not bad. It's no filet du sol, but it does have a nice taste and quality to it." He chirped with approval and then gave a resigned sigh. "I suppose you were right then Arnold." Because he had had his doubts! But indeed he had trusted Arnold and there for was now enjoying a rather delightful meal. Perhaps Taco Bell wasn't so far off?

 

He gave the glasses wearing man a sweet little nudge with his foot underneath the table after dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his napkins. "..And as for you, Scarface, I'd be able to taste RUSH in this very expensive champagne, so don't even try to act clever." But he only gave a delighted chuckle and went back to his eating.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  If Penguin had utterly gone primal on his veal, Wesker probably wouldn't have had the right to stare, after all, he was busy actually feeding bits of the lamb to the puppet as he ate his own dinner. Scarface would nash at the piece of meat till it either fell on the ground or down its little body. The Ventriloquist would obviously have to clean him later. Ah these two men, with their odd little quirks and offhandedness to the rest of Gotham society, they made quiet a pair ( or trio which ever was the case here. ) interesting pals. Or Friends. Lovers. Whatever they were, or would grow into with time.

 

Wesker's glasses sheened a bit as he watched Penguin tear into his meat and then voice his approval of it. The man had food all over his face, veal caught between those sharp teeth, and Arnold wouldn't have minded leaning over and kissing him at that moment. There was something about Penguin's sophisticated.. savagery that was quite the turn on.

 

"I'm.. glad you like it, Oswald. And there's lots of new things to try, eat, go. Anything you'd like to give taste, you know I'm always willing."  The nudge of his foot was returned with a more slow slid of well polished little shoe against the others and the corner of the Ventriloquists mouth curled up in a seductive smile.

 

"Ya know what you's need tah try? More Italian food! Like we's should go tah Frozzalia's an’ get dah REAL New York pizzah."

 

 

 

The Penguin:  He'd gone out to eat before and it had pretty much turned into an embarrassing disaster, though his meal became free as long as he just LEFT the place! That's why dining on this third floor private terrace was just sooo much nicer and so very much more.. personal. He could eat however he fancied, and that even included licking the left over grease and residue off of his flipper with a smirk on his face. Arnold must've clearly seen beyond that food stained face to the man beneath the oddities, and truly Oswald was very kind and gentle toward the Ventriloquist. Not many were so lucky.

 

But he too got a very large surge of happiness just watching Arnold feed the dummy the veal, which obviously was a complete waist of time. But.. what did that really matter to either of them? Scarface.. had to "eat" after all. It was almost cute, in a way. So as he was finally beginning to finish up his plate, he listened to the proposal of Italian food.

 

"Hrrrm.. pizza? Well could we get it with anchovies perhaps?" He did actually enjoy that kind of pizza! But he couldn't help it. Leaning across the table just a bit he lowered his voice after wiping his mouth clean and murmuring to Arnold. "Italian food and such a setting does seem.. quite romantic. It sounds like a good idea." An indoor, intimate candlelight dinner with Arnold? Followed by some rather hot and passionate sex and wine intermingled somewhere? Sounded like heaven to the bird. It was even starting to get him a little hot under the collar as well.

 

That seductive grin the little man gave him was no help in his quest to not want to ravage Arnold right on top of the table, but he was still grinning and giving Wesker an affectionate look through his manacle none the less.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  "Anything you like on it, of course, I've not had Anchovies, but if you're willing to try lamb.. well I can try those then. " A nod of his little head as he kept his glass covered glass settled on the birds face. His foot did not stop in it's teasing little slid against Penguin's own expensive shoes. He was just taking it all in, the casual conversation about a 'romantic' dinner, the candlelit flickering in the other's monocle, the hazy lustful look the bird was starting to drip from across the table.

 

Only four days and he could spot that look in the bird’s eye a mile away already. Wesker picked up his Champagne glass and down the rest of it rather quickly. The glass was set back down and then the Ventriloquist quirked a brow in the direction of the mansion and never lost that smile he had on his face. Four days, No RUSH to blame this time, and he was willing and even anticipating the birds random fiery passion.

 

However, the dummy itself was also keen to pick up on such notions, after all, it was still apart of Wesker's brain, even if it was a completely different personality. Scarface had been busy trying to scoop some peas off the plate Wesker had abandoned when it noticed the random silence and clanked it's wooden head up at the Ventriloquist. A moment to stare at Wesker and then head spun toward Penguin. Same fucking look. Oh no.

 

"Ah common, we're havin' ah party. Don't you two even THINK agout dat, not right now, dammit! Dummy.. don't you dare! "

 

 

The Penguin:  "Goooood. I also like the cheese and such too of course. But any way.. this meal was quite good. My staff seem to be set on impressing the both of you, they never put this much effort in for me." He gave a little chuckle as he motioned to the now fairly empty plates, though Scarface still seemed to be picking here or there.

 

His main focus at the moment was infact something much more important then lamb or anything of the sort-- that being Arnold Wesker. Who he just couldn't seem to stop himself from staring at across that table, watching him finish up his drink and feeling the foot nudging into his own. How could he not? But Scarface seemed to be just as much aware as the Penguin was of how much he wanted to drag the other man off after dinner and have a.. "quiet" evening with him.

 

The two villains were exchanging similar looks by now, and he actually propped one elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm of his flipper looking over at him, grinning "innocently" as he listened to Scarface suddenly call them on what was going on.

 

"..Huh? I don't know what you're talking about Scarface. I'm just enjoying the view, is all." And that was a view directly of Arnold's face. Bringing the last bit of champagne to his lips, he seemed to lightly nudge his head toward the exit at the older man who he was apparently claiming not to want to steal away with. Hah! That look said it all, and so did a slight wink he gave as well.

 

 

The Ventriloquist:  "Yah well look fer once an' try not tah touch, I've been easy agout it an' all up tah now, gut this is startin’ to get ridicilou--- DUMMY WHAT THE FUCK?" Scarface screeched as it suddenly found itself face down on the table with the Ventriloquist's very skilled hand sliding out of the dummy's intricate controls. Wesker stood up and stretched for a moment.

 

"I think I'd like to change the view anyway, my dear Oswald." Shoes tapped on the terrace as he stepped over the birds side of the table and reached down to take the birds arm and tug him up to a standing position ( it would obviously have to be Cobblepot willing standing, because there was no way Arnold could have actually picked the other man up ) Once the bird was standing, the Ventriloquist leaned down and pressed a hard kiss, so very much like the one he'd giving him that night at the Stack Deck, a teasing, flirtatious kiss only lasting a moment before he pulled away and turned on his heels to begin heading into the house.

 

 "What? What? WHAT?" The Dummy snarled from it's position on the table. " Dummy you get gack 'ere right now! Peck-Peck, tell em tah get gack 'ere! God damn it! GOD FUCKIN' DAMMIT, I'll Ice yah GOTH! "

 

Even as Arnold made it to the door, Scarface's voice still sounding like it was coming from the table. The small man paused to look over his shoulder and smile at the bird with raised eyebrows, if ever an invitation right there, and blew him a light kiss before continuing on his way.

 

"DUMMY? DUMMY!? GOD DAMN IT YOU HO!"

 

 

The Penguin:  Oh dear. Mr. Cobblepot was almost taken aback by the sudden forceful kiss to his lips, just how he'd been the first time it was given! He had however been watching in pure amusement as Arnold got up off his chair and left Scarface in a world of confusion. But soon it was the bird who was as surprised as Scarface when that mouth came to his, fully passionate and blood boiling.. and then like that

 

--gone!

 

 In a past life or something.. or even deeper in Arnold's psyche a cock tease really did live. Because he was really making Oswald hard just like that! Just looking at him and kissing him for a few moments! It was mind boggling. But still, as he watched the other disappear with a hanging open jaw, he looked over to the lifeless but screaming Scarface and only chuckled.

 

"..You just relax. I'll go see where he ran off to. You can trust me." Yeaahh. Trust him to find Arnold and fuck him senseless for what he just did! Oh even that little kiss he'd blown! It made the bird just coo with delight. So maybe Arnold was becoming a bit of a 'ho' ..as Scarface so brilliantly screamed after him. But he was his ho, and the Penguin couldn't have asked for anything more.

 

With that he stood from the table and with a regal drop of his napkin, went waddling right off of the terrace followed by the cries of a very angry Scarface intermixed with his own dark chuckles of delight as he followed Wesker and his scent along through the hallway and into the bedroom where they would be not seen, but most.. certainly heard, the rest of the evening.

 


The Ventriloquist:  " Dummmmmmmy... Duuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmy.. Duuuuhhhhmeeeeeeeeeeee..."

 

Scarface's voice continued for a moment, even after the bird and man had headed into the house. Wooden face pressed to the table, in the momentary silence, with help staring at it with confused faces, Scarface let out a grunt.
 
"At least I'm not in dah pool dis time. What dah fuck are you gappin' at? Feed me some peas!"

 

 

 

THE END

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