(no subject)
Text has been edited from the comment-boxed version.
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The first time Phoenix asked him that question was on a holiday, when Miles finally coaxed him out onto the Hazakura Bridge to watch the fireworks.
Miles simply gave Phoenix a flat look, asked him what kind of absurd question that was supposed to be, and told him to shut up and watch the pretty lights. Not the best diversion tactic, but it worked, and Miles didn’t feel like looking a gift horse in the mouth and left it at that.
The second time Phoenix asked him was when they were eating out; Miles' fork of fettucini alfredo froze halfway to his mouth as gray eyes moved to appraise the shy blue eyes, the hand rubbing across his knuckles, the teeth that nipped a lower lip and looked away.
And Miles Edgeworth realized something.
"I...don't really know."
Because he didn't. He enjoyed these little trysts with Wright, recalled fondly on lonely nights the way it all began, just as simple and straightforward as what they did now; thunderstorm, cue frightened phonecall from Phoenix. Don't forget gratitude for the something-horsepower engine, stumbling up stairs when the elevator was out, solemn promises that he would not hold Phoenix and ask him how he felt, dammit, they were grown men and this was the only time he'd do this.
And above all, the feeling of waking up with Phoenix splayed across his chest, fast asleep, the morning gray and moist outside as the credits to the last Steel Samurai episode wound to a close, and realizing he was utterly, completely lost.
"Because...well, I was thinking." Phoenix moved his palm to cup Miles' hand. "...We've been...dating...doing whatever...for nine months now." Wobbly eyebrows rose as he smirked. "...So when am I going to get that goodnight kiss?"
Something just below his ribcage lurched as memories came flooding back - memories of thirteen, of kissing Franziska on the cheek (it had been a friendly kiss, friendly goddammit), of the quiet voice of long-suffering disappointment needling in his ear, asking if that was how perfect prosecutors ran perfect cases.
"You don't need to be shy," Phoenix said, moving closer as he lowered Edgeworth's forgotten fork to the plate. "It's okay, really...I bet you're a great kisser...."
Phoenix's voice was a low, warm murmur against his cheek, his jaw, the spot below his ear (ohgodwhydidhehavetobrushhislipsthere); it was tender and soft and carried with it the promise of sex, and he found his body flaring with desire in response.
Desire - and equal parts of shame.
He jumped at the feeling of a hand on his thigh; tensed as Phoenix moved in for the kill, his lips soft, plump petals and shame perfection you must rise above this -
Edgeworth moved his head; Phoenix's lips and nose smashed against his cheek, causing him to blink and realize just what he'd done and oh, fuck, Phoenix, I'm so, so sorry.
He couldn't bring himself to even look at the other man as he rifled through his wallet with trembling fingers. He already knew what he'd see there; hurt and confusion and underneath it all just a little bit of annoyance, a bit of that characteristic patience wearing thin. "...Edgeworth, what -"
"I, um."
"Edgewor -"
Edgeworth couldn't stay any longer. With a mumbled "enjoy the rest of your meal" and some form of apology he stood, trenchcoat slung over his shoulder, and marched for the door. Phoenix didn't try to follow him, a fact his mind met with equal parts shame and relief.
He needed home. He needed secure solitude, a warm poodle in his lap and an equally warm cup of Earl Grey in his hands, and considerable distance away from Phoenix - away from the something that told the needling voice of his warped conscience to shut the hobgoblin fuck up.
_________________________
He woke to at least two of these things at 3:30 AM, Pess warm and relaxed in his lap and a lukewarm cup of Earl Grey on the side table beside Miles' favorite armchair.
The needling voice currently waited very politely for the mild knocking at the door to stop.
...Wait a second, mild knocki...oh.
Edgeworth bit his lip, fought down mild nausea, and nudged Pess off of his lap, ignoring the grumpy growl the poodle made and walking slowly over to the front door, bracing himself with each step for the inevitable.
He heard drops of water thrumming on the roof and quickened his pace. Surely...surely he hadn't...but he must have had an umbrella -
Edgeworth unlocked and swung open the door to find a very wet-looking but still resolutely cheerful Wright, who chuckled a bit and twitched his fingers in greeting.
"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty."
"...Wright, how long have you been -"
"About ten minutes. It's nothing big, really."
"Nothing big?! Phoenix, it's the middle of fall! The nights are getting colder and you - you - you know what, I'm not going to think about it," he grumbled, stepping aside and holding the door open wider.
Wright blinked, cocking his head. "Miles...are you really -"
"If you'd like me to change my mind, then you're welcome to stay where you are, but I've got dry clothes and a fire going in my room. Take your pick."
"I...wow," Phoenix said, laughing a bit awkwardly as he stepped into the house. (Edgeworth tried not to wince at the small puddles that spontaneously generated at Wright's every step.) "Thank you, Edgeworth...I didn't think that after dinner -"
"Bedroom," Miles insisted, grabbing the other man's shoulder and steering him onto the shortest, least carpeted route to his room, trying to relax the tension that coiled and cramped his hand. "Then we talk. Why are you here, anyway?"
Phoenix laughed awkwardly, rifling through a soaked pocket and pulling out a small, square piece of plastic. "...It wasn't mine. I couldn't sign off on it, and even if I could've I...don't know your account number. The chef had already seen me with you anyway, so he compromised by making me wash dishes until about 2:45…and I didn’t want to disturb you, because you kinda looked freaked out when you left." He laughed at the look on Miles' face.
Miles stopped, feeling his face fall. "...I thought I threw down some dollar bills," he said. I forgot that it was 9:43 when he asked that question.
...I left him there for roughly five hours washing dishes.
Phoenix seemed to notice the other man's realization and embarrassment. "Hey, hey," he said softly, pulling on the other man's arm and smiling reassuringly. "It's probably something really important, so don’t worry about it.."
"Phoenix -"
"Shush." Both his smile and fingers were reassuring on his face, his cheeks. "A warm shower first. Then we'll talk. And we'll say it's because you owe me an explanation."
________________________
A little more silence, some reflection and three more cups of Earl Grey later (one for Phoenix, two for him), Miles Edgeworth was ready to talk.
"Phoenix."
"Mmm?"
"...Back at the restaurant. You said that...you thought I'd be a good kisser."
Phoenix narrowed his eyes; Miles could practically see him cycling through snippets of memory at lightning speed before alighting on one in recognition. "OH! Yeah. You know, no matter how much evidence you throw at me, it's not going to work, Miles Edgeworth. The defense is not going to rest on this p -"
"I've never kissed another person in my life, Phoenix."
....aaaaand cue the awkward silence.
"...You've never -"
"No."
"...not even -"
"Most likely not -"
"...But family -"
"Once on the cheek with Franziska. Thirteen." He breathed in, settled back, expelled a sigh. "I thought about what von Karma would have said to me about perfection after that."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Phoenix's eyes widen, saw his mouth move in a small "o”. It was easier to talk, easier to get this out of him if he didn't look at Phoenix's face.
"That night, I...I got my first involuntary erection. I...remember it feeling good when I rubbed it against the mattress. Then I remembered how Franziska's kiss felt good - a different kind of good, but still 'good' - and then I imagined his voice scolding us...for what we did. What I was doing. And I...felt ashamed." He paused, lifted his head; somehow it was better to talk, made von Karma's death that much stronger and his presence at the back of Edgeworth’s mind that much weaker.
"I remember I cried into my pillow that night, because it ached and I wanted to relieve it but I was too ashamed to - because perfect prosecutors did not do things like that. It did go away eventually...and I congratulated myself for self-control." He paused, laughed a little. "The emptiness I felt after that first time became easier to ignore after the fourth time."
"That abusive ba -"
"No, Wright."
"Edgeworth, how can you say -"
"He was a bastard, yes, and a cunning one at that. But he never abused me, sexually or otherwise. He never caned us. Never even raised a hand to us. And he never even gave us a tongue lashing for that, because he never caught us." He looked at Wright's frame out of the corner of his eye. "He knew that once he made his rules clear, once he’d lectured us after we broke a rule - that would be all it took for us to self-police ourselves.
“And I...I did. I played right into his mind games. I was young and I was foolish, but I should have been smart enough to see the mind games he played with us - I could have saved Franziska years of brainwashing, at least. She suffered the worst."
He ignored to soft sound Wright made and continued.
"After that...it got easier. I never touched myself, and ignoring my body's needs while I was conscious - even fighting them down, cutting them off preemptively - became second nature over time. That of course led to nocturnal emissions - I punished myself for those by staying up for an entire day studying, working myself near to the brink of exhaustion." He paused, blinked, laughed. "...It's hard to believe those habits have lingered even today."
And how foolish, how utterly foolish he was to have wasted all those years on meticulous, needless habits, nitpicks and rituals that caused him to neglect this man, this wonderful man beside him who had done nothing but be patient and loving and true.
"...Edgeworth..."
Phoenix's voice was soft and understanding; Edgeworth didn't realize how thick and rough his own had become until he felt warm tears splash down onto his clasped hands, until he felt a sob rip itself painfully from his chest.
"Oh, Edgeworth."
Arms clad in one of his own white shirts came to wrap around his shoulders; he automatically turned his face into the solid warmth of the man beside him, felt himself standing and pushing himself back with all the strength he could muster as he cried and mourned the years of his self-taught torment.
Phoenix's hands ran warm and gentle up and down his back. "There’s more than just one type of abuse," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the shell of Edgeworth's ear.
Edgeworth shook his head. "I did this to myself," he murmured, fisting his hands in the shirt. “I…no one would have -”
"You were thirteen and you were frightened." Phoenix's voice was soft, observant, nonjudgmental and just there. It was good. It was a pleasure to just clutch at that with all his strength.
And at some point his sobs and sorrow and regret slowly melted into something more; into calm, deep breaths that introduced the cologne of Phoenix's skin and his own scent to his olfactory nerves, into a gentle sort of serenity as he was finally able to begin reconciling that part life for good, into amused musings that you had to really love someone to spend five fucking hours washing dishes in a four-star restaurant so that you didn't disturb them.
And all of this faded into a resolve to do better; a resolve that self-schooling tried to silence by informing him of his half-hard cock against Phoenix's thigh, of the warmth flooding his system and Miles Edgeworth, you need to remember what perfection is, and this is not -
He turned his head to meet Phoenix's face, watched with amusement as the man squawked and tried to push him away.
"Edgeworth I'm sorry I swear I didn't mean to I'll just go get my clothes and leave and oh God -"
He took a deep breath, steeled himself and then surged his head forward, aiming for those lips, aiming to silence the idiotic babbling once and for all.
He missed. For what it was worth, though, he learned that a very effective way of shutting Phoenix up was pulling at his hair and tugging on it so that his head was forced to look up.
...Unfortunately, this made him undershoot his target, and it took a moment for both men to realize that Miles was French kissing Phoenix's chin.
Miles froze, pulled away, embarrassed and blushing hard enough to burst; Phoenix looked at him for a moment appraisingly before chuckling and changing the rhythm of his hands, moving them in ways that made his blood warm and his aroused body stir.
"We don't have to do this," Phoenix murmured, and stopped smiling long enough to lean forward so that their foreheads met, blue meeting gray head-on and searching for any sort of hesitation. "We could wait..." he offered in a voice quite unlike the Phoenix Wright Edgeworth was familiar with, chasing Miles' lips with a playful warning nip. "...or we could do many, many more things..."
"No." Edgeworth's own hands splayed between Wright's shoulderblades, meeting that gaze head-on. "We do this now, Wright. I do believe I owe you for nine months of epic cockblocking as well as a dinner."
"So you do," Phoenix murmured, eyes half-lidded, a wide smirk smearing his face. "Well, if the prosecution rests, I certainly have no objections."
"You're ruining the mood," he grumbled, blushing and looking away.
Phoenix chuckled, nudging Edgeworth gently in the groin with his thigh. "Shut up," he said. "And while you're at it, close your eyes so I can properly seduce you."
Miles hesitated, curled his fingers into the cool linen of the borrowed shirt, bit the inside of his cheek as he involuntarily as he called on old fear and self-schooling.
“Miles,” Phoenix breathed, nudging their noses together. “Trust me.”
Edgeworth hesitated a moment more, then took the proverbial plunge as he let his eyes flutter shut and kept them that way over the indignation of that inner voice.
He felt Phoenix exhale against his lips, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to touch and kiss him, and before he could stop himself his own head was moving forward, trying to join their lips and tongue and -
He let out a frustrated sound and almost opened his eyes as Phoenix placed a hand between them; the other man only chuckled and placed a warm palm over his eyes to stop him from seeing.
“No, Miles. Let me take care of you right now.” He paused, pulled his hand away from Miles’ eyelids and kissed them one after the other. “I promise I’ll let you try later,” Phoenix whispered, brushing a thumb across his cheekbones. “Let me do this for you first, though. Let me show you how it’s done. Let me make you feel good.”
A low shudder passed through Edgeworth’s spine at the soft promise in that voice and he nodded briskly, clutching Phoenix’s biceps and pushing back against the hands loosely cupping his backside. “Yes…”
He felt Phoenix smile against his lips. “All right,” he whispered, letting his tongue come out and tease Miles’ mouth open.
Miles remained absolutely still, uncertain of how to act and move as Phoenix tilted his head to deepen the kiss, as his tongue wrapped around Miles’ and coaxed it out from the cage of his teeth, moved around it and with it in slow, languorous slips and slides. And Miles found himself reacting to it, moving forward an towards Phoenix’s mouth with equal -
“Ow,” Phoenix murmured, pulling back. “Careful, Miles,” he chuckled, “That was my tongue.”
Miles frowned - he assumed he looked quite ridiculous, brow furrowed, mouth pulled down, eyes screwed tightly shut. “You’re not enjoying this,” he accused, somewhat sadly.
“Hey.” Phoenix bumped their foreheads together; he could hear the smile on the other man’s face, a soft, steady glow through the insecurity of his mind. “What did I just say? ‘Let me take care of you.’ I want you to enjoy yourself, Miles. And I assure you, nothing will turn me on more than seeing you do that.”
Miles stilled, feeling quite stupid just standing there and letting Phoenix kiss him senseless. The other must have realized this, because he let out a soft breath of amusement and nudged Miles towards the bed. “Let’s go lay down. You’ll see what I mean.”
Miles surrendered and told the voice - quieter, softer now - to shut the hell up as Phoenix took his hand, backed him towards silk sheets and a soft mattress.
“Careful,” Phoenix whispered, the muscles of his arms tightening as Miles’ knees hit the edge of the bed, helping Miles to reorient himself before sitting, then lying back on, the bed. A pause, and then the mattress dipped as Phoenix climbed on after him, one hand on Miles’ shoulder as they backed themselves up slowly, slowly, until Phoenix’s hand came around to cup his head before Miles crashed into the headboard.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” Phoenix whispered, brushing a stray bang out of Miles’ face. Miles’ rationale took over for a minute, wondering how mussed hair, a fine sheen of sweat and breaths that weren’t quite pants, weren’t quite regular could possibly be beautiful or sexy, but then Phoenix had to lean down and kiss him again - hotter, wetter, and he tentatively nipped on Phoenix’s lower lip to an appreciative soft sound - and that part of his brain shut down with astonishing rapidity.
“They say that when you lose one of your senses,” Phoenix murmured, lips grazing across his cheek, up to his ear as he spoke, “your others get much, much sharper.” He paused, reverently, lips parted on the shell of Miles’ ear; Miles didn’t even notice his hands clawing at Phoenix’s clothed back, the quiet quickening of his breath.
“Sound….” His voice rose a little here, above a whisper but still low, still so very sexy oh God.
“Taste…” and here he dragged his tongue down the column of his neck and over Edgeworth’s adam’s apple, drawing a shaky gasp and a whimper from the other man. He thought, perhaps, he felt fingers down the front of his shirt, pausing and moving methodically, but then Phoenix started talking again, and focusing on multiple things at once became difficult.
“Scent…” And here Phoenix left his neck to nuzzle in silver hair, inhaling deeply, and even through the haze of lust interrupting his frantic breaths he found himself doing the same, becoming high off the combined scent of cologne, skin and linen.
“Touch.”
Miles cried out, startled, as Phoenix’s hands crawled over to one hard nipple and pinched it firmly.
“Miles? I-I’m sorry, was that -”
“G-good,” he breathed, willing his hands to stop clawing at the sheets and his brief flash of fear to fade. “Just…didn’t expect it.” Ke-God, keep going.”
A pause that bode no good for him, he knew; he could practically see the grin growing on Phoenix’s face.
“Are you begging, Miles Edgeworth?”
His face grew warm; Phoenix laughed and kissed him again, nibbling affectionately on Miles’ lower lip as he pulled away. “All right, all right.” He squeezed the nipple again, eliciting another gasp and buck from the man beneath his fingers. “But I’ll remember this, Miles.”
“I…ah, don’t do that when I’m talking - have n-no - oh Gott -”
Phoenix lifted his head from where it was warm and wet on Miles’ neglected nipple, giving it one last lingering lick. “Having trouble keeping hold on your language, Miles?”
“You - ah - d-did that on purpose.”
“Mmm.” Phoenix popped a few more buttons open, lay a feathery kiss below the end of Miles’ breastbone. “You don’t have conclusive evidence. Though I will say that listening to you talk…or swear in German - God, it’s fucking hot.”
“I…Wright, if you think thaaaaah - that courtroom comparisons are f-funny…I will -”
“That’s nice, baby. Now will you please remove your vest and jacket?”
Edgeworth fought down the urge to glare at this man through closed eyes and make himself look more ridiculous. Instead, he obliged, shifting arms and torso until his upper body remained clad in nothing but a crisp, half-unbuttoned white shirt, his jacket and vest splayed out beneath him.
“Lovely,” Phoenix whispered into the juncture of his neck, punctuating his assertation with a soft nip. “I’m a very lucky man that you decided for whatever reason to remove your cravat when you came home.”
“Practicality, Wright. I don’t have to look dignified - or, as you would put it, ‘frilly’ - for anyone when I’m here. Pess doesn’t care what I wear, normally.”
Phoenix stayed still above him for a moment, and Edgeworth was wondering if that had been the wrong thing to say until he started unbuttoning the last few buttons on his shirt, planting a meaningful kiss with each new inch of exposed flesh. “You don’t have to look good for me,” Phoenix whispered. “You don’t have to look beautiful or dignified. We’re fine, just like this.”
Edgeworth felt his throat hitch as his heart swelled, and for a moment he feared the tears threatening to leak out of the corner of his eyes would collect and spill over any moment now; but then Phoenix dragged his nose and tongue across his groin, finally bringing to his notice how hard he was, how much he wanted this.
“Hmm….” The infuriating smirk returned to Phoenix’s voice as he drew a finger down the bulge of his lover’s pants. “And I want to see all of you,” he murmured, bringing his thumb and forefinger up to tease the button of his pants before sliding it out of the flap, pulling the zipper down slowly, slowly. Edgeworth sighed as the pressure lessened significantly; Phoenix chuckled and moved to cup the twitching flesh, moving his thumb over the growing patch of darkened, moistened fabric.
“…silk, hmm?” Phoenix teased, and Edgeworth almost retorted, but Phoenix’s tongue ducked beneath the elastic of his boxers, made him throw his head back and gasp. “Luxurious to a fault,” he added as his lips left the skin of Edgeworth’s belly.
“I - mm - are you complaining because you can’t afford it?” Edgeworth teased back, feeling a bit of the bite coming back into him.
Phoenix’s retribution was swift, quick and sweet; in one deft movement he pulled down Miles’ boxers, and before the man had a single moment to appreciate the feeling of a completely unrestrained erection he felt his brain short-circuit as something wet and slick engulfed his cock, sucked once, hard.
Miles let out an indignant squawk and nearly opened his eyes, not quite certain what the hell was going on. “Phoeni -”
“Shhh,” Phoenix soothed, laying a kiss softly on the bottom of the other man’s cock and listening to Miles swear once, soft. “It was just my mouth. It’s called a blowjob, Miles.”
Miles felt his brows furrow. “…Sounds…familiar.”
“Did you not like it? Should I stop?”
Miles frowned, considered. “…It…it just felt weird. Really good…but weird. If…if you want to -”
“This is about what you want, Edgeworth,” Phoenix insisted, and Edgeworth could almost see the glare beyond his eyelids. “Not what I want.”
Edgeworth sighed, lay back against the bed; Phoenix teased his abdomen with soft, quick, teasing kisses and proved to be a very effective distraction to what he should have been focusing on.
“…What…ah, yeah, right there. What else…?”
Phoenix paused, considering. “…We could…we could try penetration.”
“…Penetration? Wright, what do you mean -” and whatever else he wanted to say was cut off by a very undignified yelp as Phoenix brushed a finger up against oh God, he cannot be serious.
“Right here. We’d both use some sort of lube, of course, an -”
“No.” He took a deep breath, re-centered himself. “Not…not tonight, Phoenix.”
“And you don’t want me to suck you off,” Phoenix murmured thoughtfully, and Miles felt his cock throb at the words themselves, at how sexy dirty talk in Phoenix’s practical voice sounded. “…That leaves one option, then.”
“…what’s that?”
Phoenix did not directly answer him, but he felt Phoenix lift his body, felt him crawl back up and kiss the corner of his mouth.
“Phoenix, what -”
And then they both moaned as Phoenix lowered his hips onto Edgeworth’s. For a moment, neither moved; just lay there, trembling, clinging to one another in the dying light of the fireplace.
Phoenix kissed him again, and Miles tentatively responded; when their teeth only crashed together once and Phoenix hummed his approval, Miles knew he was doing better. Phoenix lifted his head, nuzzled the skin of his cheek wordlessly. Then, without warning, he ground his hips down into Miles’, both moaning sharply at the sensation. He lifted his hips slightly, then repeated. Again. Again.
Miles felt his own body twitch in response; Miles felt his body shaking with the effort to hold himself back, to let Phoenix guide him through this. He wanted this, so, so badly. He was coming apart, neurons and synapses snapping and overloading with the overwhelming sensation…
Phoenix bent his head. “Let go,” he whispered into Miles’ ear. “I’ll correct my rhythm for you. Let go, Miles.”
Miles let go, hips pistoning wildly on their own as he cried out once, then again, loud, lost.
He was awkward in that way most all virgins are. His rhythm was uneven and off, he was quite sure that Phoenix grunted a few times in a way that had nothing to do with pleasure, but it felt so good, so very good and somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Phoenix whispering his name, murmuring small, unintelligible morsels of terribly decadent things in his ear. He climbed too high, too fast, the edges of his world going dim and dark as he started responding, “Phoenix…Phoenix…Phoe -!”
He came messily and thickly against their stomachs, his orgasm a quick, brief affair that produced more semen then he thought it would; when he was aware of himself again he found himself peering up into blue eyes darkened by lust, both realizing belatedly that Miles had even opened his eyes at all. “Miles -!”
Miles nodded, something confident and courageous welling up in his chest; it compelled him to reach between their bodies, eyes trained on Phoenix’s face, and wrap his hand around Phoenix’s erection; he squeezed a little to tightly, pulled a little too weakly -
But somehow it was enough to make what little sentience remained in Phoenix’s eyes snap, for them to squeeze shut as he cried out in a choking voice, pistoning his hips and coming, all pretenses of calm and collected gone…
“Miles!”
Miles smiled lazily at how beautiful his name sounded from those lips, somehow sweeter than he’d ever heard before.
__________________________
Miles woke the next morning to the dim pearly gray of pre-dawn and to the soft skin of his nose tucked into Phoenix’s neck, the small smile on his lips widening as he lay kisses on the sensitive skin.
He vaguely remembered brief, significant glances, soft touches and limbs entwining lazily. They hadn’t stayed awake long after that, hadn’t spoken a word when Phoenix rolled off of him and pulled him close. They’d fallen asleep like that, on top of the sheets, their shirts still hanging off shoulders and their pants and boxers somewhere on the ground.
“Where is this relationship going?” Miles mused again, and waited.
The voice stayed silent, gone for good.
Edgeworth smirked as Phoenix’s skin twitched and responded to the gentle flutter of lips against his neck. “All things considered, Phoenix Wright, I have a few ideas.”
Phoenix sighed in response, moving to curl around Edgeworth a little more. Edgeworth returned the lazy embrace and closed his eyes, opting to wait instead for the alarm clock.
Author’s Endnotes: SORRY GAIZ I MEANT TO WRITE ACTUAL FUCKING BUT IT KINDA WANTED TO BE FROT AND LO AND BEHOLD IT WAS SO I’M SORRY DON’T KILL ME PLEASE.
Instead you could give me comments/concrit. …I liek comments/concrit. They’re like mudkiepz to writers.
___________________________________
The first time Phoenix asked him that question was on a holiday, when Miles finally coaxed him out onto the Hazakura Bridge to watch the fireworks.
Miles simply gave Phoenix a flat look, asked him what kind of absurd question that was supposed to be, and told him to shut up and watch the pretty lights. Not the best diversion tactic, but it worked, and Miles didn’t feel like looking a gift horse in the mouth and left it at that.
The second time Phoenix asked him was when they were eating out; Miles' fork of fettucini alfredo froze halfway to his mouth as gray eyes moved to appraise the shy blue eyes, the hand rubbing across his knuckles, the teeth that nipped a lower lip and looked away.
And Miles Edgeworth realized something.
"I...don't really know."
Because he didn't. He enjoyed these little trysts with Wright, recalled fondly on lonely nights the way it all began, just as simple and straightforward as what they did now; thunderstorm, cue frightened phonecall from Phoenix. Don't forget gratitude for the something-horsepower engine, stumbling up stairs when the elevator was out, solemn promises that he would not hold Phoenix and ask him how he felt, dammit, they were grown men and this was the only time he'd do this.
And above all, the feeling of waking up with Phoenix splayed across his chest, fast asleep, the morning gray and moist outside as the credits to the last Steel Samurai episode wound to a close, and realizing he was utterly, completely lost.
"Because...well, I was thinking." Phoenix moved his palm to cup Miles' hand. "...We've been...dating...doing whatever...for nine months now." Wobbly eyebrows rose as he smirked. "...So when am I going to get that goodnight kiss?"
Something just below his ribcage lurched as memories came flooding back - memories of thirteen, of kissing Franziska on the cheek (it had been a friendly kiss, friendly goddammit), of the quiet voice of long-suffering disappointment needling in his ear, asking if that was how perfect prosecutors ran perfect cases.
"You don't need to be shy," Phoenix said, moving closer as he lowered Edgeworth's forgotten fork to the plate. "It's okay, really...I bet you're a great kisser...."
Phoenix's voice was a low, warm murmur against his cheek, his jaw, the spot below his ear (ohgodwhydidhehavetobrushhislipsthere); it was tender and soft and carried with it the promise of sex, and he found his body flaring with desire in response.
Desire - and equal parts of shame.
He jumped at the feeling of a hand on his thigh; tensed as Phoenix moved in for the kill, his lips soft, plump petals and shame perfection you must rise above this -
Edgeworth moved his head; Phoenix's lips and nose smashed against his cheek, causing him to blink and realize just what he'd done and oh, fuck, Phoenix, I'm so, so sorry.
He couldn't bring himself to even look at the other man as he rifled through his wallet with trembling fingers. He already knew what he'd see there; hurt and confusion and underneath it all just a little bit of annoyance, a bit of that characteristic patience wearing thin. "...Edgeworth, what -"
"I, um."
"Edgewor -"
Edgeworth couldn't stay any longer. With a mumbled "enjoy the rest of your meal" and some form of apology he stood, trenchcoat slung over his shoulder, and marched for the door. Phoenix didn't try to follow him, a fact his mind met with equal parts shame and relief.
He needed home. He needed secure solitude, a warm poodle in his lap and an equally warm cup of Earl Grey in his hands, and considerable distance away from Phoenix - away from the something that told the needling voice of his warped conscience to shut the hobgoblin fuck up.
_________________________
He woke to at least two of these things at 3:30 AM, Pess warm and relaxed in his lap and a lukewarm cup of Earl Grey on the side table beside Miles' favorite armchair.
The needling voice currently waited very politely for the mild knocking at the door to stop.
...Wait a second, mild knocki...oh.
Edgeworth bit his lip, fought down mild nausea, and nudged Pess off of his lap, ignoring the grumpy growl the poodle made and walking slowly over to the front door, bracing himself with each step for the inevitable.
He heard drops of water thrumming on the roof and quickened his pace. Surely...surely he hadn't...but he must have had an umbrella -
Edgeworth unlocked and swung open the door to find a very wet-looking but still resolutely cheerful Wright, who chuckled a bit and twitched his fingers in greeting.
"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty."
"...Wright, how long have you been -"
"About ten minutes. It's nothing big, really."
"Nothing big?! Phoenix, it's the middle of fall! The nights are getting colder and you - you - you know what, I'm not going to think about it," he grumbled, stepping aside and holding the door open wider.
Wright blinked, cocking his head. "Miles...are you really -"
"If you'd like me to change my mind, then you're welcome to stay where you are, but I've got dry clothes and a fire going in my room. Take your pick."
"I...wow," Phoenix said, laughing a bit awkwardly as he stepped into the house. (Edgeworth tried not to wince at the small puddles that spontaneously generated at Wright's every step.) "Thank you, Edgeworth...I didn't think that after dinner -"
"Bedroom," Miles insisted, grabbing the other man's shoulder and steering him onto the shortest, least carpeted route to his room, trying to relax the tension that coiled and cramped his hand. "Then we talk. Why are you here, anyway?"
Phoenix laughed awkwardly, rifling through a soaked pocket and pulling out a small, square piece of plastic. "...It wasn't mine. I couldn't sign off on it, and even if I could've I...don't know your account number. The chef had already seen me with you anyway, so he compromised by making me wash dishes until about 2:45…and I didn’t want to disturb you, because you kinda looked freaked out when you left." He laughed at the look on Miles' face.
Miles stopped, feeling his face fall. "...I thought I threw down some dollar bills," he said. I forgot that it was 9:43 when he asked that question.
...I left him there for roughly five hours washing dishes.
Phoenix seemed to notice the other man's realization and embarrassment. "Hey, hey," he said softly, pulling on the other man's arm and smiling reassuringly. "It's probably something really important, so don’t worry about it.."
"Phoenix -"
"Shush." Both his smile and fingers were reassuring on his face, his cheeks. "A warm shower first. Then we'll talk. And we'll say it's because you owe me an explanation."
________________________
A little more silence, some reflection and three more cups of Earl Grey later (one for Phoenix, two for him), Miles Edgeworth was ready to talk.
"Phoenix."
"Mmm?"
"...Back at the restaurant. You said that...you thought I'd be a good kisser."
Phoenix narrowed his eyes; Miles could practically see him cycling through snippets of memory at lightning speed before alighting on one in recognition. "OH! Yeah. You know, no matter how much evidence you throw at me, it's not going to work, Miles Edgeworth. The defense is not going to rest on this p -"
"I've never kissed another person in my life, Phoenix."
....aaaaand cue the awkward silence.
"...You've never -"
"No."
"...not even -"
"Most likely not -"
"...But family -"
"Once on the cheek with Franziska. Thirteen." He breathed in, settled back, expelled a sigh. "I thought about what von Karma would have said to me about perfection after that."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Phoenix's eyes widen, saw his mouth move in a small "o”. It was easier to talk, easier to get this out of him if he didn't look at Phoenix's face.
"That night, I...I got my first involuntary erection. I...remember it feeling good when I rubbed it against the mattress. Then I remembered how Franziska's kiss felt good - a different kind of good, but still 'good' - and then I imagined his voice scolding us...for what we did. What I was doing. And I...felt ashamed." He paused, lifted his head; somehow it was better to talk, made von Karma's death that much stronger and his presence at the back of Edgeworth’s mind that much weaker.
"I remember I cried into my pillow that night, because it ached and I wanted to relieve it but I was too ashamed to - because perfect prosecutors did not do things like that. It did go away eventually...and I congratulated myself for self-control." He paused, laughed a little. "The emptiness I felt after that first time became easier to ignore after the fourth time."
"That abusive ba -"
"No, Wright."
"Edgeworth, how can you say -"
"He was a bastard, yes, and a cunning one at that. But he never abused me, sexually or otherwise. He never caned us. Never even raised a hand to us. And he never even gave us a tongue lashing for that, because he never caught us." He looked at Wright's frame out of the corner of his eye. "He knew that once he made his rules clear, once he’d lectured us after we broke a rule - that would be all it took for us to self-police ourselves.
“And I...I did. I played right into his mind games. I was young and I was foolish, but I should have been smart enough to see the mind games he played with us - I could have saved Franziska years of brainwashing, at least. She suffered the worst."
He ignored to soft sound Wright made and continued.
"After that...it got easier. I never touched myself, and ignoring my body's needs while I was conscious - even fighting them down, cutting them off preemptively - became second nature over time. That of course led to nocturnal emissions - I punished myself for those by staying up for an entire day studying, working myself near to the brink of exhaustion." He paused, blinked, laughed. "...It's hard to believe those habits have lingered even today."
And how foolish, how utterly foolish he was to have wasted all those years on meticulous, needless habits, nitpicks and rituals that caused him to neglect this man, this wonderful man beside him who had done nothing but be patient and loving and true.
"...Edgeworth..."
Phoenix's voice was soft and understanding; Edgeworth didn't realize how thick and rough his own had become until he felt warm tears splash down onto his clasped hands, until he felt a sob rip itself painfully from his chest.
"Oh, Edgeworth."
Arms clad in one of his own white shirts came to wrap around his shoulders; he automatically turned his face into the solid warmth of the man beside him, felt himself standing and pushing himself back with all the strength he could muster as he cried and mourned the years of his self-taught torment.
Phoenix's hands ran warm and gentle up and down his back. "There’s more than just one type of abuse," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the shell of Edgeworth's ear.
Edgeworth shook his head. "I did this to myself," he murmured, fisting his hands in the shirt. “I…no one would have -”
"You were thirteen and you were frightened." Phoenix's voice was soft, observant, nonjudgmental and just there. It was good. It was a pleasure to just clutch at that with all his strength.
And at some point his sobs and sorrow and regret slowly melted into something more; into calm, deep breaths that introduced the cologne of Phoenix's skin and his own scent to his olfactory nerves, into a gentle sort of serenity as he was finally able to begin reconciling that part life for good, into amused musings that you had to really love someone to spend five fucking hours washing dishes in a four-star restaurant so that you didn't disturb them.
And all of this faded into a resolve to do better; a resolve that self-schooling tried to silence by informing him of his half-hard cock against Phoenix's thigh, of the warmth flooding his system and Miles Edgeworth, you need to remember what perfection is, and this is not -
He turned his head to meet Phoenix's face, watched with amusement as the man squawked and tried to push him away.
"Edgeworth I'm sorry I swear I didn't mean to I'll just go get my clothes and leave and oh God -"
He took a deep breath, steeled himself and then surged his head forward, aiming for those lips, aiming to silence the idiotic babbling once and for all.
He missed. For what it was worth, though, he learned that a very effective way of shutting Phoenix up was pulling at his hair and tugging on it so that his head was forced to look up.
...Unfortunately, this made him undershoot his target, and it took a moment for both men to realize that Miles was French kissing Phoenix's chin.
Miles froze, pulled away, embarrassed and blushing hard enough to burst; Phoenix looked at him for a moment appraisingly before chuckling and changing the rhythm of his hands, moving them in ways that made his blood warm and his aroused body stir.
"We don't have to do this," Phoenix murmured, and stopped smiling long enough to lean forward so that their foreheads met, blue meeting gray head-on and searching for any sort of hesitation. "We could wait..." he offered in a voice quite unlike the Phoenix Wright Edgeworth was familiar with, chasing Miles' lips with a playful warning nip. "...or we could do many, many more things..."
"No." Edgeworth's own hands splayed between Wright's shoulderblades, meeting that gaze head-on. "We do this now, Wright. I do believe I owe you for nine months of epic cockblocking as well as a dinner."
"So you do," Phoenix murmured, eyes half-lidded, a wide smirk smearing his face. "Well, if the prosecution rests, I certainly have no objections."
"You're ruining the mood," he grumbled, blushing and looking away.
Phoenix chuckled, nudging Edgeworth gently in the groin with his thigh. "Shut up," he said. "And while you're at it, close your eyes so I can properly seduce you."
Miles hesitated, curled his fingers into the cool linen of the borrowed shirt, bit the inside of his cheek as he involuntarily as he called on old fear and self-schooling.
“Miles,” Phoenix breathed, nudging their noses together. “Trust me.”
Edgeworth hesitated a moment more, then took the proverbial plunge as he let his eyes flutter shut and kept them that way over the indignation of that inner voice.
He felt Phoenix exhale against his lips, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to touch and kiss him, and before he could stop himself his own head was moving forward, trying to join their lips and tongue and -
He let out a frustrated sound and almost opened his eyes as Phoenix placed a hand between them; the other man only chuckled and placed a warm palm over his eyes to stop him from seeing.
“No, Miles. Let me take care of you right now.” He paused, pulled his hand away from Miles’ eyelids and kissed them one after the other. “I promise I’ll let you try later,” Phoenix whispered, brushing a thumb across his cheekbones. “Let me do this for you first, though. Let me show you how it’s done. Let me make you feel good.”
A low shudder passed through Edgeworth’s spine at the soft promise in that voice and he nodded briskly, clutching Phoenix’s biceps and pushing back against the hands loosely cupping his backside. “Yes…”
He felt Phoenix smile against his lips. “All right,” he whispered, letting his tongue come out and tease Miles’ mouth open.
Miles remained absolutely still, uncertain of how to act and move as Phoenix tilted his head to deepen the kiss, as his tongue wrapped around Miles’ and coaxed it out from the cage of his teeth, moved around it and with it in slow, languorous slips and slides. And Miles found himself reacting to it, moving forward an towards Phoenix’s mouth with equal -
“Ow,” Phoenix murmured, pulling back. “Careful, Miles,” he chuckled, “That was my tongue.”
Miles frowned - he assumed he looked quite ridiculous, brow furrowed, mouth pulled down, eyes screwed tightly shut. “You’re not enjoying this,” he accused, somewhat sadly.
“Hey.” Phoenix bumped their foreheads together; he could hear the smile on the other man’s face, a soft, steady glow through the insecurity of his mind. “What did I just say? ‘Let me take care of you.’ I want you to enjoy yourself, Miles. And I assure you, nothing will turn me on more than seeing you do that.”
Miles stilled, feeling quite stupid just standing there and letting Phoenix kiss him senseless. The other must have realized this, because he let out a soft breath of amusement and nudged Miles towards the bed. “Let’s go lay down. You’ll see what I mean.”
Miles surrendered and told the voice - quieter, softer now - to shut the hell up as Phoenix took his hand, backed him towards silk sheets and a soft mattress.
“Careful,” Phoenix whispered, the muscles of his arms tightening as Miles’ knees hit the edge of the bed, helping Miles to reorient himself before sitting, then lying back on, the bed. A pause, and then the mattress dipped as Phoenix climbed on after him, one hand on Miles’ shoulder as they backed themselves up slowly, slowly, until Phoenix’s hand came around to cup his head before Miles crashed into the headboard.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” Phoenix whispered, brushing a stray bang out of Miles’ face. Miles’ rationale took over for a minute, wondering how mussed hair, a fine sheen of sweat and breaths that weren’t quite pants, weren’t quite regular could possibly be beautiful or sexy, but then Phoenix had to lean down and kiss him again - hotter, wetter, and he tentatively nipped on Phoenix’s lower lip to an appreciative soft sound - and that part of his brain shut down with astonishing rapidity.
“They say that when you lose one of your senses,” Phoenix murmured, lips grazing across his cheek, up to his ear as he spoke, “your others get much, much sharper.” He paused, reverently, lips parted on the shell of Miles’ ear; Miles didn’t even notice his hands clawing at Phoenix’s clothed back, the quiet quickening of his breath.
“Sound….” His voice rose a little here, above a whisper but still low, still so very sexy oh God.
“Taste…” and here he dragged his tongue down the column of his neck and over Edgeworth’s adam’s apple, drawing a shaky gasp and a whimper from the other man. He thought, perhaps, he felt fingers down the front of his shirt, pausing and moving methodically, but then Phoenix started talking again, and focusing on multiple things at once became difficult.
“Scent…” And here Phoenix left his neck to nuzzle in silver hair, inhaling deeply, and even through the haze of lust interrupting his frantic breaths he found himself doing the same, becoming high off the combined scent of cologne, skin and linen.
“Touch.”
Miles cried out, startled, as Phoenix’s hands crawled over to one hard nipple and pinched it firmly.
“Miles? I-I’m sorry, was that -”
“G-good,” he breathed, willing his hands to stop clawing at the sheets and his brief flash of fear to fade. “Just…didn’t expect it.” Ke-God, keep going.”
A pause that bode no good for him, he knew; he could practically see the grin growing on Phoenix’s face.
“Are you begging, Miles Edgeworth?”
His face grew warm; Phoenix laughed and kissed him again, nibbling affectionately on Miles’ lower lip as he pulled away. “All right, all right.” He squeezed the nipple again, eliciting another gasp and buck from the man beneath his fingers. “But I’ll remember this, Miles.”
“I…ah, don’t do that when I’m talking - have n-no - oh Gott -”
Phoenix lifted his head from where it was warm and wet on Miles’ neglected nipple, giving it one last lingering lick. “Having trouble keeping hold on your language, Miles?”
“You - ah - d-did that on purpose.”
“Mmm.” Phoenix popped a few more buttons open, lay a feathery kiss below the end of Miles’ breastbone. “You don’t have conclusive evidence. Though I will say that listening to you talk…or swear in German - God, it’s fucking hot.”
“I…Wright, if you think thaaaaah - that courtroom comparisons are f-funny…I will -”
“That’s nice, baby. Now will you please remove your vest and jacket?”
Edgeworth fought down the urge to glare at this man through closed eyes and make himself look more ridiculous. Instead, he obliged, shifting arms and torso until his upper body remained clad in nothing but a crisp, half-unbuttoned white shirt, his jacket and vest splayed out beneath him.
“Lovely,” Phoenix whispered into the juncture of his neck, punctuating his assertation with a soft nip. “I’m a very lucky man that you decided for whatever reason to remove your cravat when you came home.”
“Practicality, Wright. I don’t have to look dignified - or, as you would put it, ‘frilly’ - for anyone when I’m here. Pess doesn’t care what I wear, normally.”
Phoenix stayed still above him for a moment, and Edgeworth was wondering if that had been the wrong thing to say until he started unbuttoning the last few buttons on his shirt, planting a meaningful kiss with each new inch of exposed flesh. “You don’t have to look good for me,” Phoenix whispered. “You don’t have to look beautiful or dignified. We’re fine, just like this.”
Edgeworth felt his throat hitch as his heart swelled, and for a moment he feared the tears threatening to leak out of the corner of his eyes would collect and spill over any moment now; but then Phoenix dragged his nose and tongue across his groin, finally bringing to his notice how hard he was, how much he wanted this.
“Hmm….” The infuriating smirk returned to Phoenix’s voice as he drew a finger down the bulge of his lover’s pants. “And I want to see all of you,” he murmured, bringing his thumb and forefinger up to tease the button of his pants before sliding it out of the flap, pulling the zipper down slowly, slowly. Edgeworth sighed as the pressure lessened significantly; Phoenix chuckled and moved to cup the twitching flesh, moving his thumb over the growing patch of darkened, moistened fabric.
“…silk, hmm?” Phoenix teased, and Edgeworth almost retorted, but Phoenix’s tongue ducked beneath the elastic of his boxers, made him throw his head back and gasp. “Luxurious to a fault,” he added as his lips left the skin of Edgeworth’s belly.
“I - mm - are you complaining because you can’t afford it?” Edgeworth teased back, feeling a bit of the bite coming back into him.
Phoenix’s retribution was swift, quick and sweet; in one deft movement he pulled down Miles’ boxers, and before the man had a single moment to appreciate the feeling of a completely unrestrained erection he felt his brain short-circuit as something wet and slick engulfed his cock, sucked once, hard.
Miles let out an indignant squawk and nearly opened his eyes, not quite certain what the hell was going on. “Phoeni -”
“Shhh,” Phoenix soothed, laying a kiss softly on the bottom of the other man’s cock and listening to Miles swear once, soft. “It was just my mouth. It’s called a blowjob, Miles.”
Miles felt his brows furrow. “…Sounds…familiar.”
“Did you not like it? Should I stop?”
Miles frowned, considered. “…It…it just felt weird. Really good…but weird. If…if you want to -”
“This is about what you want, Edgeworth,” Phoenix insisted, and Edgeworth could almost see the glare beyond his eyelids. “Not what I want.”
Edgeworth sighed, lay back against the bed; Phoenix teased his abdomen with soft, quick, teasing kisses and proved to be a very effective distraction to what he should have been focusing on.
“…What…ah, yeah, right there. What else…?”
Phoenix paused, considering. “…We could…we could try penetration.”
“…Penetration? Wright, what do you mean -” and whatever else he wanted to say was cut off by a very undignified yelp as Phoenix brushed a finger up against oh God, he cannot be serious.
“Right here. We’d both use some sort of lube, of course, an -”
“No.” He took a deep breath, re-centered himself. “Not…not tonight, Phoenix.”
“And you don’t want me to suck you off,” Phoenix murmured thoughtfully, and Miles felt his cock throb at the words themselves, at how sexy dirty talk in Phoenix’s practical voice sounded. “…That leaves one option, then.”
“…what’s that?”
Phoenix did not directly answer him, but he felt Phoenix lift his body, felt him crawl back up and kiss the corner of his mouth.
“Phoenix, what -”
And then they both moaned as Phoenix lowered his hips onto Edgeworth’s. For a moment, neither moved; just lay there, trembling, clinging to one another in the dying light of the fireplace.
Phoenix kissed him again, and Miles tentatively responded; when their teeth only crashed together once and Phoenix hummed his approval, Miles knew he was doing better. Phoenix lifted his head, nuzzled the skin of his cheek wordlessly. Then, without warning, he ground his hips down into Miles’, both moaning sharply at the sensation. He lifted his hips slightly, then repeated. Again. Again.
Miles felt his own body twitch in response; Miles felt his body shaking with the effort to hold himself back, to let Phoenix guide him through this. He wanted this, so, so badly. He was coming apart, neurons and synapses snapping and overloading with the overwhelming sensation…
Phoenix bent his head. “Let go,” he whispered into Miles’ ear. “I’ll correct my rhythm for you. Let go, Miles.”
Miles let go, hips pistoning wildly on their own as he cried out once, then again, loud, lost.
He was awkward in that way most all virgins are. His rhythm was uneven and off, he was quite sure that Phoenix grunted a few times in a way that had nothing to do with pleasure, but it felt so good, so very good and somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Phoenix whispering his name, murmuring small, unintelligible morsels of terribly decadent things in his ear. He climbed too high, too fast, the edges of his world going dim and dark as he started responding, “Phoenix…Phoenix…Phoe -!”
He came messily and thickly against their stomachs, his orgasm a quick, brief affair that produced more semen then he thought it would; when he was aware of himself again he found himself peering up into blue eyes darkened by lust, both realizing belatedly that Miles had even opened his eyes at all. “Miles -!”
Miles nodded, something confident and courageous welling up in his chest; it compelled him to reach between their bodies, eyes trained on Phoenix’s face, and wrap his hand around Phoenix’s erection; he squeezed a little to tightly, pulled a little too weakly -
But somehow it was enough to make what little sentience remained in Phoenix’s eyes snap, for them to squeeze shut as he cried out in a choking voice, pistoning his hips and coming, all pretenses of calm and collected gone…
“Miles!”
Miles smiled lazily at how beautiful his name sounded from those lips, somehow sweeter than he’d ever heard before.
__________________________
Miles woke the next morning to the dim pearly gray of pre-dawn and to the soft skin of his nose tucked into Phoenix’s neck, the small smile on his lips widening as he lay kisses on the sensitive skin.
He vaguely remembered brief, significant glances, soft touches and limbs entwining lazily. They hadn’t stayed awake long after that, hadn’t spoken a word when Phoenix rolled off of him and pulled him close. They’d fallen asleep like that, on top of the sheets, their shirts still hanging off shoulders and their pants and boxers somewhere on the ground.
“Where is this relationship going?” Miles mused again, and waited.
The voice stayed silent, gone for good.
Edgeworth smirked as Phoenix’s skin twitched and responded to the gentle flutter of lips against his neck. “All things considered, Phoenix Wright, I have a few ideas.”
Phoenix sighed in response, moving to curl around Edgeworth a little more. Edgeworth returned the lazy embrace and closed his eyes, opting to wait instead for the alarm clock.
Author’s Endnotes: SORRY GAIZ I MEANT TO WRITE ACTUAL FUCKING BUT IT KINDA WANTED TO BE FROT AND LO AND BEHOLD IT WAS SO I’M SORRY DON’T KILL ME PLEASE.
Instead you could give me comments/concrit. …I liek comments/concrit. They’re like mudkiepz to writers.