[One Fic - for gyakusai_swap]
Title: A Disastrous Evening, in 3 Parts
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Edgeworth/Phoenix
Word Count: 3527. This thing was 8 pages in Word. 8. Fucking. Pages. (P.S. That's long for me)
Original Prompt: Edgeworth is not just an emo kid with loads of frequent flier miles. So how does Phoenix get someone so utterly damaged to accept his affection--if he can at all?
Warnings: Angst, mild language, alcohol consumption, snogging, a little bit of frot, and more angst.
A/N: First and foremost, this is written for poisoninkbottle for the gyakusai_swap exchange. So, Merry Christmas/New Years, Cyanide! Hope you enjoy~
That being said, I took some liberties with the prompt, but it did so well lend itself to reinterpretation. ♥ This is left very open-ended on purpose, and there will be no sequel. Also, incidentally, I have discovered that these two are pretty f*cked up, in terms of their relationship. I cannot get enough of it~
1.
Miles Edgeworth stared blankly up at the fan. His head felt muzzy. His eyes crossed bemusedly as he followed the blades above him - one piece of lime green streamer was hooked on a sluggish propeller, fluttering haphazardly. Miles shook his head slowly, breaking his gaze away from the fan, and looked around the offices of Wright and Co. from his couchly position, amused at the state of the place - crushed streamers hung off every available surface (including Gumshoe's head, he noticed) and beer cans were perched precariously on table edges. Miles noticed a half-empty bottle (what number was this again?) in his own hand. Odd, that. He didn't even like this trash. Wright had terrible taste.
In the chair off the Edgeworth's right, Gumshoe gave a sleepy mumble and shifted, still out cold. He seemed to be using the banner ("Happy 2nd Anniversary Wright and Co.!") as a blanket. It crinkled merrily with every breath.
"How did that streamer get up there?" Wright asked mildly. Miles glanced at him. The lawyer was sprawled on the other side of the couch, half sitting, half lounging. His head lolled in the junction of the back- and arm-rests.
"Ergh." Edgeworth shrugged. Wright's shirt was open past his collarbone and Miles was curiously distracted. Very strange.
At the sound of Miles' voice, Phoenix lifted his head up. "Bwuh?!" He sounded confused for a moment. "...Oh...didn't know anyone else was still up." Wright's face was flushed and he grinned sloppily.
Damn, but that smile was infectious. Miles felt the corners of his own mouth twitching in empathy. "We seem to be the last ones standing, in a manner of speaking." Even inebriated, he tried to retain some sense of decorum.
"Ah." Wright made his own sweeping glance of the room. "...where'd everyone else go?"
Miles shrugged again. "Most of the them left around 11:30."
"Oh."
There was a long pause.
"Hey, Edgeworth?" Phoenix was looking at him rather bemusedly.
"Yes...?" Meeting Wright's gaze was nothing new, of course, but this close, Miles could see the tendrils of green in his eyes. They were wide, blue and dark and he felt a flush bloom across his face for no apparent reason. The air between them...thickened somewhat, and the lawyer's look turned heavy. Electrical.
"..." Phoenix opened his mouth, pondering. Edgeworth's heart rate sped up in...anticipation? Fear? Excitement? He wasn't sure.
Wright hesitated for a moment and then dropped his eyes. "...are you going to finish that beer?" He had the grace to look sheepish, yet, oddly, the tension didn't dissolve. Miles shifted closer to Phoenix, slightly, unintentionally.
"Oh. No; you'd like it, I assume?" Edgeworth could see a hint of shadow starting along the other man's jawline. He bit his lip.
"Yeah."
Leaning towards Wright, he braced himself against the back of the couch, which seemed to be moving just as alarmingly as the rest of the room. "How you drink this trash is beyond me."
Phoenix reached for the bottle. "'m poor, remember? I'll take what I can get."
Miles stretched out his arm with the glass in it, ignoring the fact that Phoenix was practically underneath him, ignoring the point of heat where his knee was touching the other man's shin. He leaned forward and aimed for Wright's hand, he had, but his traitorous arm decided to move faster that the rest of him could follow. The glass flew past Wright's fingers, rapidly slipping out of Edgeworth's hand. Their hands brushed together. He attempted to give chase, but was immediately reminded that there was a defense attorney directly in his path and, inevitably, he toppled.
They both exhaled loudly as Edgeworth landed clumsily on Phoenix and the bottle hit the floor with a soft whumph before rolling out of sight. For a moment, they lay there, not moving, both waiting for their brains to pick up on what had just happened. Eventually, Edgeworth noticed a sore twisting sensation in his right arm, where it had been lodged in the couch cushions and he shakily disentangled it, taking care to avoid brushing against the other man's side. At the same time, Miles lifted his head gingerly (it had smacked into Wright's surprisingly broad shoulder), disoriented by his minds' slow swirling. He shook his head briefly.
"pfffffft, Real smooth, Edgeworth." Phoenix was shaking with suppressed laughter, the bastard. He hadn't moved an inch, apparently content to let Miles shuffle off him unassisted.
Miles whacked him in the arm and propped himself up, using the other man's chest for leverage. "You are insufferable."
Phoenix giggled quietly and Edgeworth felt a whiff of air brush against his face. He turned his head to meet the other's clouded gaze. Miles shifted unconsciously, attempting to coax his suddenly unresponsive body off the couch and somehow felt himself settle onto Phoenix's hips, his legs locking perfectly into place alongside them.
They both froze and Edgeworth heard Wright's giggle end in a sharp inhalation of breath. Miles tore his eyes away from the other man's (the dazed veil on them way clearing rapidly, frighteningly). They landed (unintentionally, of course) on the flushed skin exposed by Phoenix's open collar and like a magnet, Miles felt his fingers dragging across the rumpled fabric. A dim part of his mind knew this was a bad idea, but Phoenix had gone very still and his breathing had picked up a hoarse edge and Miles couldn't quite focus on reasons.
Cautiously, he traced his index finger Phoenix's collarbone. Phoenix tensed slowly and Edgeworth felt a thread of heat leap through his fingers, across the back of his hand, and up his arm. The recoil hit his head and he gasped quietly, wondering why Wright hadn't shoved him off yet, why he hadn't even moved, and when had that hand settled on his hip?
Miles splayed his fingers against Phoenix's neck. He could feel the other man's heartbeat and each soft thump synchronized with the flush pulsing through his body. He was baffled, confused, alarmed at the warning bells vibrating around his skull. His hand skimmed across Wright's skin to cup comfortably behind his jaw.
"Edgeworth..." Phoenix sighed shakily, exhaling heat and booze. Immediately, Miles tightened his hand alongside Phoenix's neck and snapped his gaze up. The other man's eyes were a wide, patient blue.
It wasn't until Wright craned his head upward that Edgeworth even knew he'd leaned down to kiss the disastrous man. Then Phoenix was pushing forward and kissing him back and Miles tasted the alcohol on his tongue and was drunk again. He let out a breath he'd not known he was holding and opened his mouth, pushed forward, trying to sink into the body beneath him.
Wright's breath was warm and his hand sent chills pulsing through Miles as it moved up his spine. He tensed at the contrasts. It occurred to Edgeworth, in a disconnected manner, that they were both far too drunk to make anything proper of this. Indeed, their actions were sloppy and unrehearsed, their mouths sliding every where and their teeth clicking together jarringly. Without thinking, Miles rolled his hips against Wrights, rubbing their groins together, and drew a shocked gasp from both of them. His head was pounding.
He couldn't quite bring himself to stop.
Then Phoenix was pulling back moving farther away until even the thin line of spittle between them was snapped and all contact was gone. Miles followed him desperately, confused at why he'd stopped, until he suddenly remembered a need to breathe and, from the complimentary panting, assumed Wright had discovered the same.
Still breathing heavily, Phoenix smiled up at Miles with bruised lips. "You make me a little bit crazy."
Edgeworth froze, struck painfully by sudden clarity. What the hell am I doing? He broke out in a cold sweat, eyes widening violently. Wright was still smiling at him beatifically, his hand making small circles on Miles' back.
A wave of terror gripped Edgeworth and he felt bile rise in his throat. This was Phoenix Wright, the man who had dared to challenge him and somehow managed to tear down every wall Miles had built up in the last decade, yet here Miles was, drunk, admittedly aroused, straddling Wright, kissing him like some kind of horny fool. Even then, in his shock, Edgeworth had to call in a good deal of self-restraint to avoid turning the man over and just- He panicked, his mind screaming at him to run before he lost his senses entirely.
Miles shoved himself backwards and landed hard on the floor, his shoulder turning awkwardly. Phoenix - still groggy - sat up worriedly. "Edgeworth- wha- are you OK-"
"Shut up, Wright." Miles hissed. He stood up unsteadily and scanned the room for his jacket. He had to get out now, while he still had some claim to denial. Edgeworth's mind was whirring, chastising himself for even having this unorthodox attraction to Wright, not to mention actually acting on it. Foolish.
"Wait- wha's wrong?" Phoenix sounded confused, but not hurt - not yet. There was a thump as he presumably fell off the couch. "Shit..."
Edgeworth found his coat (crumpled on a chair goddammit) and made a swerving bee-line for the door, not so worried about getting home so much as he was about getting far away from Wright. God, his head was throbbing.
Good show, Miles, he thought, way to disregard inhibitions around the one person likely to do something stupid-
"Edgeworth, wait! I'll call a cab!"
-like take this seriously.
He slammed the door behind him.
2.
The world had stopped when Edgeworth leaned down to kiss him and Phoenix was only somewhat surprised that'd responded. As he'd closed his eyes and forgotten to breathe, he hadn't thought What the hell or Oh God wrongwrongwrong or even Is this legal? Calmly, rationally, his brain shrugged, Ah, this is what I'd been waiting on.
And it was funny, to his spinning mind, just how much sense this made. All the glances and glares across the courtroom, the awkward handshakes and unfamiliar smiles, the heavy air to their conversations that always felt so close to resolution - it just clicked. Nick laughed to himself.
He wanted Edgew- Miles. Well, more than wanted, really, though all-out “love” was such a sticky word. Extreme affection worked just as well. What mattered, though, was that Miles was touching him and Phoenix was touching back and he could feel an odd bubbling sensation in his chest that might have been another giggle, and-
It felt right. That was all.
Nick pulled back then, tingling with euphoria, and was struck with a sudden urge to just tell him. “You make me a little bit crazy.” He smiled up at Edgeworth.
For a split second, Miles almost seemed to smile back. Then, before his mouth had even moved, Edgeworth froze. Phoenix felt the other man's fingers clench behind his head, saw his eyes turn wide and haunted, felt him trembling. Miles swallowed hard, audibly. Nick grunted in surprise as Edgeworth pushed suddenly against him and toppled clumsily to the floor, limbs flailing akimbo and landing on all the wrong places.
“E-Edgeworth- wha- are you OK-”
“Shut up, Wright.” Miles looked shaky, panicked, and his head twisted side to side as he glanced around the room, eyes landing on everything except Phoenix.
Nick couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. “What- wha's wrong?” He tried to get up, but his legs were jelly and only now regaining circulation (Miles was heavy) and he flopped off the couch. “Shit...” His head was spinning and he couldn't focus on any one thing. Edgeworth was little more than a black and white and burgundy blur on the far side of the room. Phoenix could feel his mind yelling at him with a chorus of hazy doubts. He was drunk - you knew he'd come to his senses Of course he doesn't really want you Idiot Idiot Idiot How could yo-
Go after him!
Phoenix snapped his head up (ow fuck that hurt). Edgeworth was almost to the door Stall for time stall for time stall for time.
“Edgeworth, wait! I'll call a cab!” Please just stop moving!
Miles slammed the door without looking back.
3.
The door closed behind him with a clank that would have been satisfying, had he the presence of mind to appreciate it.
Foolish. Stupid. How could I...? Angrily, Edgeworth scrubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand and walked down the steps that lead out to the street. He nearly fell when his shaking legs twisted suddenly beneath him and barely managed to catch himself on the stone railing. Already high-strung, he hissed a bit as he scraped his palm.
Miles reached the bottom of the stairs with a half-trip, hardly noticing the cool night air on his flushed face. He shrugged his jacket on roughly and patted around the pockets for his cell phone.
...which was, his increasingly panicked mind noted, nowhere to be found. Almost frantically, his hands scrabbled over every inch of clothing, into every pocket, hoping that maybe it was just Misplaced Somewhere Nearby and not laying traitorously on the floor in That Office He Wasn't Ever Going Into Again. His breath quickened and he felt the rage and self-disgust bubbling up again, manifesting in an painful trembling and clenching of every muscle in his body.
G-Gottfluch, his mind muttered, and Miles felt his knees shake beneath him. Gott- God, I've got to get home... He clenched a fist to his forehead. But how the hell am I going to get a taxi-
Edgeworth's increasingly panicked thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the small, terrifying sound of a door opening behind him. He stopped breathing. His eyes were wide open, but he couldn't see anything. Miles' entire world was temporarily reduced to the noise of socks shuffling lightly across concrete steps. Maybe if I don't say anything, he'll leave. If I just stay quiet and ignore him, we can pretend this never happened. It's 2am and we're drunk and I'm completely out of my mind and if I just-
“You left your phone.”
Miles stiffened his back at the sound of Phoenix's cautious voice, and the reappearance of his spine triggered the disappearance of his panic. A cold fury filled him as his vision returned in full force, and he spoke curtly over his shoulder, not bothering to move.
“I gathered that.” Edgeworth's voice croaked embarrassingly and he thrust his hand out behind him, fingers still twitching. “Return it. Now.”
“I-, Miles-”
“NOW, Wright!”
For a suspended moment, Phoenix stayed suspiciously quiet behind him. Then Edgeworth sensed the lawyer stepping gingerly down the stairs, heard the waver in his step, and felt him stop inches away from his outstretched hand. The air thickened, heat radiating out from Wright, and Miles closed his eyes, frightened for a moment that Phoenix was going to touch him and then he'd-
With the very barest of touches across his palm, Edgeworth felt the familiar weight of his cellphone slip back into his hand.
“We need to talk, Edgeworth.” Phoenix's voice was tired, but underneath it was the steely determination the prosecutor only heard in court.
Miles took a few steps forward, hand clenching around his cell. He dialed a number and placed the phone ear his ear, resolutely ignoring the attorney for the time being.
“Yes, I need a cab, as soon as possible. 314 75th St. No, that won't be necessary. Credit. Yes, thank you.” The phone clicked shut with a small click.
“You have until my cab arrives, Wright. Talk, but no moving, understand?” Against his better judgment, Miles felt his anger abate, and let his shoulders sag wearily.
“...What was that, that back there?”
Edgeworth snorted at Phoenix's predictably simple question. “That was too much liquor and a series of physical reactions that will never be repeated.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Miles could practically feel the false bravado the other man was giving off. He turned around slowly, customary frown in place.
“You have no idea what the hell you're talking about, Wright.”
“I know I want to touch you again; I know you probably wouldn't resist.”
Understandably, Edgeworth felt his mouth twitch in annoyance, both at Phoenix and at the familiar shiver that brushed down his back. “As I thought - you are an absolute imbecile.” He narrowed his gaze. “If you are in such a need for physical companionship, you will undoubtedly find better luck elsewhere.”
Phoenix smiled nervously. “You're the idiot. This isn't about the physical-”
“I suggest you think very, very carefully on what you mean to say next, Wright.” Miles tilted his head down and frowned darkly.
“...I want you, Edgeworth. And not just for 'companionship'...you- I-”
“No, Wright. Do not even entertain the idea - it's absolutely preposterous.”
“I want to try, Miles;” The prosecutor flinched slightly at his given name and Phoenix's rising voice. “this wasn't a spur of the moment thing and you know it.”
Edgeworth laughed sardonically. “For me, perhaps, but you? You cannot possibly claim you've entertained any such thoughts until this unfortunate incident.”
“I- No, I hadn't.”
“So you expect me to believe that you just had a sudden flash of inspiration and are now quite willing to metaphorically bat for the other team?” he sneered, teeth bared.
“No, just you.”
Miles dropped his sneer, taken aback. “You- You can't be serious...Or, well, you probably are serious, but that's-” Shaking his head, the prosecutor attempted to dispel the odd, muddy thoughts floating through his head. “It's all completely irrelevant.” He shut his eyes to the sight of the crestfallen lawyer on the stairs. “I refuse to even consider this ridicul-”
Then Edgeworth opened his eyes again and gasped sharply to see Phoenix's unnervingly calm gaze mere inches from his face. He stood, spine locked so straight it nearly curved in, shoulders wrenched back, with his usually placid face melding from shock to fear to desire to hurt. Miles tried to step backwards, but his feet wouldn't move and he managed little more than a furious tremble about the knees. He settled his features into an annoyingly quivering smirk in an attempt to regain some sense of control.
“I thought I told you not to move, Wright.” Damn the man, but he was so infuriatingly calm. It wasn't right.
“Until your cab got here.”
Edgeworth didn't even turn around - he'd heard the scratch of tires across asphalt and frowned at Phoenix.
“Which means this talk is over and I will be leaving now, thank you-”
Wright moved again, then, this time leaning his head in, tilted slightly to the right, and Miles' feet failed him a second time. This close - this terribly close - to the other man, and everything he was completely disappeared, leaving nothing but soft sounds in his ears and senses that utterly betrayed all common sense. Miles stepped forward, bringing his face that much closer to Phoenix's and all he could really hear was the blood pounding in his head to the same rhythm as before. His neck dipped down to allow their slightly parted lips to ghost over one another, barely touching, and they were so very close and if he didn't close that tiny chasm soon, he might very we-
Phoenix pulled back again, a knowing, desperate look in his eyes, and it was so much worse than earlier that Edgeworth felt the absence of his presence like a physical pain.
“I can make this work, Edgeworth. I know it.”
Edgeworth finally managed to step back. He was completely positive that if he didn't get away now, Wright would touch him again or say something and Miles would absolutely shatter, leaving himself exposed to that something of Phoenix's that disturbed him as much as it entranced him. That could not happen. They could not happen. This would- it was-
“...the end of us both.” Edgeworth murmured unsteadily. Lines of paranoia were laced through his every word, yet Phoenix's poise did not degrade. He looked up at Wright once again and a flurry of emotions assailed him under that steady gaze.
“What you think you know has little bearing on my answer,” he said acidly, carefully crafted demeanor slowly reforming, “which is most vehemently a no. I am going now, and we will not speak of this again, verstehen Sie?” Miles switched to the clipped sounds of German to hide the tremor still going through his voice. He turned around and walked across the empty street towards the discretely parked cab, stride growing steadier with every step.
“I'll see you in court tomorrow, Miles.”
Very determinedly, Edgeworth didn't look back at the horrifying man who was almost certainly standing on the curb with that same burning look he always had when he was so close to breaking another of Miles' well-crafted testimonies, when he knew he had found, with out a doubt, the truth that lay in a man's soul and was no more than a breath away from the words that would break it free-
He didn't look back; he didn't look back.
///
END
None swapfic related things: RL has EATEN MY SOUL, which is why I've produced next to nothing lately. Evil, evil college essays. EVIL.
Now, time to work on Neb's Christmas present~ :D
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Edgeworth/Phoenix
Word Count: 3527. This thing was 8 pages in Word. 8. Fucking. Pages. (P.S. That's long for me)
Original Prompt: Edgeworth is not just an emo kid with loads of frequent flier miles. So how does Phoenix get someone so utterly damaged to accept his affection--if he can at all?
Warnings: Angst, mild language, alcohol consumption, snogging, a little bit of frot, and more angst.
A/N: First and foremost, this is written for poisoninkbottle for the gyakusai_swap exchange. So, Merry Christmas/New Years, Cyanide! Hope you enjoy~
That being said, I took some liberties with the prompt, but it did so well lend itself to reinterpretation. ♥ This is left very open-ended on purpose, and there will be no sequel. Also, incidentally, I have discovered that these two are pretty f*cked up, in terms of their relationship. I cannot get enough of it~
1.
Miles Edgeworth stared blankly up at the fan. His head felt muzzy. His eyes crossed bemusedly as he followed the blades above him - one piece of lime green streamer was hooked on a sluggish propeller, fluttering haphazardly. Miles shook his head slowly, breaking his gaze away from the fan, and looked around the offices of Wright and Co. from his couchly position, amused at the state of the place - crushed streamers hung off every available surface (including Gumshoe's head, he noticed) and beer cans were perched precariously on table edges. Miles noticed a half-empty bottle (what number was this again?) in his own hand. Odd, that. He didn't even like this trash. Wright had terrible taste.
In the chair off the Edgeworth's right, Gumshoe gave a sleepy mumble and shifted, still out cold. He seemed to be using the banner ("Happy 2nd Anniversary Wright and Co.!") as a blanket. It crinkled merrily with every breath.
"How did that streamer get up there?" Wright asked mildly. Miles glanced at him. The lawyer was sprawled on the other side of the couch, half sitting, half lounging. His head lolled in the junction of the back- and arm-rests.
"Ergh." Edgeworth shrugged. Wright's shirt was open past his collarbone and Miles was curiously distracted. Very strange.
At the sound of Miles' voice, Phoenix lifted his head up. "Bwuh?!" He sounded confused for a moment. "...Oh...didn't know anyone else was still up." Wright's face was flushed and he grinned sloppily.
Damn, but that smile was infectious. Miles felt the corners of his own mouth twitching in empathy. "We seem to be the last ones standing, in a manner of speaking." Even inebriated, he tried to retain some sense of decorum.
"Ah." Wright made his own sweeping glance of the room. "...where'd everyone else go?"
Miles shrugged again. "Most of the them left around 11:30."
"Oh."
There was a long pause.
"Hey, Edgeworth?" Phoenix was looking at him rather bemusedly.
"Yes...?" Meeting Wright's gaze was nothing new, of course, but this close, Miles could see the tendrils of green in his eyes. They were wide, blue and dark and he felt a flush bloom across his face for no apparent reason. The air between them...thickened somewhat, and the lawyer's look turned heavy. Electrical.
"..." Phoenix opened his mouth, pondering. Edgeworth's heart rate sped up in...anticipation? Fear? Excitement? He wasn't sure.
Wright hesitated for a moment and then dropped his eyes. "...are you going to finish that beer?" He had the grace to look sheepish, yet, oddly, the tension didn't dissolve. Miles shifted closer to Phoenix, slightly, unintentionally.
"Oh. No; you'd like it, I assume?" Edgeworth could see a hint of shadow starting along the other man's jawline. He bit his lip.
"Yeah."
Leaning towards Wright, he braced himself against the back of the couch, which seemed to be moving just as alarmingly as the rest of the room. "How you drink this trash is beyond me."
Phoenix reached for the bottle. "'m poor, remember? I'll take what I can get."
Miles stretched out his arm with the glass in it, ignoring the fact that Phoenix was practically underneath him, ignoring the point of heat where his knee was touching the other man's shin. He leaned forward and aimed for Wright's hand, he had, but his traitorous arm decided to move faster that the rest of him could follow. The glass flew past Wright's fingers, rapidly slipping out of Edgeworth's hand. Their hands brushed together. He attempted to give chase, but was immediately reminded that there was a defense attorney directly in his path and, inevitably, he toppled.
They both exhaled loudly as Edgeworth landed clumsily on Phoenix and the bottle hit the floor with a soft whumph before rolling out of sight. For a moment, they lay there, not moving, both waiting for their brains to pick up on what had just happened. Eventually, Edgeworth noticed a sore twisting sensation in his right arm, where it had been lodged in the couch cushions and he shakily disentangled it, taking care to avoid brushing against the other man's side. At the same time, Miles lifted his head gingerly (it had smacked into Wright's surprisingly broad shoulder), disoriented by his minds' slow swirling. He shook his head briefly.
"pfffffft, Real smooth, Edgeworth." Phoenix was shaking with suppressed laughter, the bastard. He hadn't moved an inch, apparently content to let Miles shuffle off him unassisted.
Miles whacked him in the arm and propped himself up, using the other man's chest for leverage. "You are insufferable."
Phoenix giggled quietly and Edgeworth felt a whiff of air brush against his face. He turned his head to meet the other's clouded gaze. Miles shifted unconsciously, attempting to coax his suddenly unresponsive body off the couch and somehow felt himself settle onto Phoenix's hips, his legs locking perfectly into place alongside them.
They both froze and Edgeworth heard Wright's giggle end in a sharp inhalation of breath. Miles tore his eyes away from the other man's (the dazed veil on them way clearing rapidly, frighteningly). They landed (unintentionally, of course) on the flushed skin exposed by Phoenix's open collar and like a magnet, Miles felt his fingers dragging across the rumpled fabric. A dim part of his mind knew this was a bad idea, but Phoenix had gone very still and his breathing had picked up a hoarse edge and Miles couldn't quite focus on reasons.
Cautiously, he traced his index finger Phoenix's collarbone. Phoenix tensed slowly and Edgeworth felt a thread of heat leap through his fingers, across the back of his hand, and up his arm. The recoil hit his head and he gasped quietly, wondering why Wright hadn't shoved him off yet, why he hadn't even moved, and when had that hand settled on his hip?
Miles splayed his fingers against Phoenix's neck. He could feel the other man's heartbeat and each soft thump synchronized with the flush pulsing through his body. He was baffled, confused, alarmed at the warning bells vibrating around his skull. His hand skimmed across Wright's skin to cup comfortably behind his jaw.
"Edgeworth..." Phoenix sighed shakily, exhaling heat and booze. Immediately, Miles tightened his hand alongside Phoenix's neck and snapped his gaze up. The other man's eyes were a wide, patient blue.
It wasn't until Wright craned his head upward that Edgeworth even knew he'd leaned down to kiss the disastrous man. Then Phoenix was pushing forward and kissing him back and Miles tasted the alcohol on his tongue and was drunk again. He let out a breath he'd not known he was holding and opened his mouth, pushed forward, trying to sink into the body beneath him.
Wright's breath was warm and his hand sent chills pulsing through Miles as it moved up his spine. He tensed at the contrasts. It occurred to Edgeworth, in a disconnected manner, that they were both far too drunk to make anything proper of this. Indeed, their actions were sloppy and unrehearsed, their mouths sliding every where and their teeth clicking together jarringly. Without thinking, Miles rolled his hips against Wrights, rubbing their groins together, and drew a shocked gasp from both of them. His head was pounding.
He couldn't quite bring himself to stop.
Then Phoenix was pulling back moving farther away until even the thin line of spittle between them was snapped and all contact was gone. Miles followed him desperately, confused at why he'd stopped, until he suddenly remembered a need to breathe and, from the complimentary panting, assumed Wright had discovered the same.
Still breathing heavily, Phoenix smiled up at Miles with bruised lips. "You make me a little bit crazy."
Edgeworth froze, struck painfully by sudden clarity. What the hell am I doing? He broke out in a cold sweat, eyes widening violently. Wright was still smiling at him beatifically, his hand making small circles on Miles' back.
A wave of terror gripped Edgeworth and he felt bile rise in his throat. This was Phoenix Wright, the man who had dared to challenge him and somehow managed to tear down every wall Miles had built up in the last decade, yet here Miles was, drunk, admittedly aroused, straddling Wright, kissing him like some kind of horny fool. Even then, in his shock, Edgeworth had to call in a good deal of self-restraint to avoid turning the man over and just- He panicked, his mind screaming at him to run before he lost his senses entirely.
Miles shoved himself backwards and landed hard on the floor, his shoulder turning awkwardly. Phoenix - still groggy - sat up worriedly. "Edgeworth- wha- are you OK-"
"Shut up, Wright." Miles hissed. He stood up unsteadily and scanned the room for his jacket. He had to get out now, while he still had some claim to denial. Edgeworth's mind was whirring, chastising himself for even having this unorthodox attraction to Wright, not to mention actually acting on it. Foolish.
"Wait- wha's wrong?" Phoenix sounded confused, but not hurt - not yet. There was a thump as he presumably fell off the couch. "Shit..."
Edgeworth found his coat (crumpled on a chair goddammit) and made a swerving bee-line for the door, not so worried about getting home so much as he was about getting far away from Wright. God, his head was throbbing.
Good show, Miles, he thought, way to disregard inhibitions around the one person likely to do something stupid-
"Edgeworth, wait! I'll call a cab!"
-like take this seriously.
He slammed the door behind him.
2.
The world had stopped when Edgeworth leaned down to kiss him and Phoenix was only somewhat surprised that'd responded. As he'd closed his eyes and forgotten to breathe, he hadn't thought What the hell or Oh God wrongwrongwrong or even Is this legal? Calmly, rationally, his brain shrugged, Ah, this is what I'd been waiting on.
And it was funny, to his spinning mind, just how much sense this made. All the glances and glares across the courtroom, the awkward handshakes and unfamiliar smiles, the heavy air to their conversations that always felt so close to resolution - it just clicked. Nick laughed to himself.
He wanted Edgew- Miles. Well, more than wanted, really, though all-out “love” was such a sticky word. Extreme affection worked just as well. What mattered, though, was that Miles was touching him and Phoenix was touching back and he could feel an odd bubbling sensation in his chest that might have been another giggle, and-
It felt right. That was all.
Nick pulled back then, tingling with euphoria, and was struck with a sudden urge to just tell him. “You make me a little bit crazy.” He smiled up at Edgeworth.
For a split second, Miles almost seemed to smile back. Then, before his mouth had even moved, Edgeworth froze. Phoenix felt the other man's fingers clench behind his head, saw his eyes turn wide and haunted, felt him trembling. Miles swallowed hard, audibly. Nick grunted in surprise as Edgeworth pushed suddenly against him and toppled clumsily to the floor, limbs flailing akimbo and landing on all the wrong places.
“E-Edgeworth- wha- are you OK-”
“Shut up, Wright.” Miles looked shaky, panicked, and his head twisted side to side as he glanced around the room, eyes landing on everything except Phoenix.
Nick couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. “What- wha's wrong?” He tried to get up, but his legs were jelly and only now regaining circulation (Miles was heavy) and he flopped off the couch. “Shit...” His head was spinning and he couldn't focus on any one thing. Edgeworth was little more than a black and white and burgundy blur on the far side of the room. Phoenix could feel his mind yelling at him with a chorus of hazy doubts. He was drunk - you knew he'd come to his senses Of course he doesn't really want you Idiot Idiot Idiot How could yo-
Go after him!
Phoenix snapped his head up (ow fuck that hurt). Edgeworth was almost to the door Stall for time stall for time stall for time.
“Edgeworth, wait! I'll call a cab!” Please just stop moving!
Miles slammed the door without looking back.
3.
The door closed behind him with a clank that would have been satisfying, had he the presence of mind to appreciate it.
Foolish. Stupid. How could I...? Angrily, Edgeworth scrubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand and walked down the steps that lead out to the street. He nearly fell when his shaking legs twisted suddenly beneath him and barely managed to catch himself on the stone railing. Already high-strung, he hissed a bit as he scraped his palm.
Miles reached the bottom of the stairs with a half-trip, hardly noticing the cool night air on his flushed face. He shrugged his jacket on roughly and patted around the pockets for his cell phone.
...which was, his increasingly panicked mind noted, nowhere to be found. Almost frantically, his hands scrabbled over every inch of clothing, into every pocket, hoping that maybe it was just Misplaced Somewhere Nearby and not laying traitorously on the floor in That Office He Wasn't Ever Going Into Again. His breath quickened and he felt the rage and self-disgust bubbling up again, manifesting in an painful trembling and clenching of every muscle in his body.
G-Gottfluch, his mind muttered, and Miles felt his knees shake beneath him. Gott- God, I've got to get home... He clenched a fist to his forehead. But how the hell am I going to get a taxi-
Edgeworth's increasingly panicked thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the small, terrifying sound of a door opening behind him. He stopped breathing. His eyes were wide open, but he couldn't see anything. Miles' entire world was temporarily reduced to the noise of socks shuffling lightly across concrete steps. Maybe if I don't say anything, he'll leave. If I just stay quiet and ignore him, we can pretend this never happened. It's 2am and we're drunk and I'm completely out of my mind and if I just-
“You left your phone.”
Miles stiffened his back at the sound of Phoenix's cautious voice, and the reappearance of his spine triggered the disappearance of his panic. A cold fury filled him as his vision returned in full force, and he spoke curtly over his shoulder, not bothering to move.
“I gathered that.” Edgeworth's voice croaked embarrassingly and he thrust his hand out behind him, fingers still twitching. “Return it. Now.”
“I-, Miles-”
“NOW, Wright!”
For a suspended moment, Phoenix stayed suspiciously quiet behind him. Then Edgeworth sensed the lawyer stepping gingerly down the stairs, heard the waver in his step, and felt him stop inches away from his outstretched hand. The air thickened, heat radiating out from Wright, and Miles closed his eyes, frightened for a moment that Phoenix was going to touch him and then he'd-
With the very barest of touches across his palm, Edgeworth felt the familiar weight of his cellphone slip back into his hand.
“We need to talk, Edgeworth.” Phoenix's voice was tired, but underneath it was the steely determination the prosecutor only heard in court.
Miles took a few steps forward, hand clenching around his cell. He dialed a number and placed the phone ear his ear, resolutely ignoring the attorney for the time being.
“Yes, I need a cab, as soon as possible. 314 75th St. No, that won't be necessary. Credit. Yes, thank you.” The phone clicked shut with a small click.
“You have until my cab arrives, Wright. Talk, but no moving, understand?” Against his better judgment, Miles felt his anger abate, and let his shoulders sag wearily.
“...What was that, that back there?”
Edgeworth snorted at Phoenix's predictably simple question. “That was too much liquor and a series of physical reactions that will never be repeated.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Miles could practically feel the false bravado the other man was giving off. He turned around slowly, customary frown in place.
“You have no idea what the hell you're talking about, Wright.”
“I know I want to touch you again; I know you probably wouldn't resist.”
Understandably, Edgeworth felt his mouth twitch in annoyance, both at Phoenix and at the familiar shiver that brushed down his back. “As I thought - you are an absolute imbecile.” He narrowed his gaze. “If you are in such a need for physical companionship, you will undoubtedly find better luck elsewhere.”
Phoenix smiled nervously. “You're the idiot. This isn't about the physical-”
“I suggest you think very, very carefully on what you mean to say next, Wright.” Miles tilted his head down and frowned darkly.
“...I want you, Edgeworth. And not just for 'companionship'...you- I-”
“No, Wright. Do not even entertain the idea - it's absolutely preposterous.”
“I want to try, Miles;” The prosecutor flinched slightly at his given name and Phoenix's rising voice. “this wasn't a spur of the moment thing and you know it.”
Edgeworth laughed sardonically. “For me, perhaps, but you? You cannot possibly claim you've entertained any such thoughts until this unfortunate incident.”
“I- No, I hadn't.”
“So you expect me to believe that you just had a sudden flash of inspiration and are now quite willing to metaphorically bat for the other team?” he sneered, teeth bared.
“No, just you.”
Miles dropped his sneer, taken aback. “You- You can't be serious...Or, well, you probably are serious, but that's-” Shaking his head, the prosecutor attempted to dispel the odd, muddy thoughts floating through his head. “It's all completely irrelevant.” He shut his eyes to the sight of the crestfallen lawyer on the stairs. “I refuse to even consider this ridicul-”
Then Edgeworth opened his eyes again and gasped sharply to see Phoenix's unnervingly calm gaze mere inches from his face. He stood, spine locked so straight it nearly curved in, shoulders wrenched back, with his usually placid face melding from shock to fear to desire to hurt. Miles tried to step backwards, but his feet wouldn't move and he managed little more than a furious tremble about the knees. He settled his features into an annoyingly quivering smirk in an attempt to regain some sense of control.
“I thought I told you not to move, Wright.” Damn the man, but he was so infuriatingly calm. It wasn't right.
“Until your cab got here.”
Edgeworth didn't even turn around - he'd heard the scratch of tires across asphalt and frowned at Phoenix.
“Which means this talk is over and I will be leaving now, thank you-”
Wright moved again, then, this time leaning his head in, tilted slightly to the right, and Miles' feet failed him a second time. This close - this terribly close - to the other man, and everything he was completely disappeared, leaving nothing but soft sounds in his ears and senses that utterly betrayed all common sense. Miles stepped forward, bringing his face that much closer to Phoenix's and all he could really hear was the blood pounding in his head to the same rhythm as before. His neck dipped down to allow their slightly parted lips to ghost over one another, barely touching, and they were so very close and if he didn't close that tiny chasm soon, he might very we-
Phoenix pulled back again, a knowing, desperate look in his eyes, and it was so much worse than earlier that Edgeworth felt the absence of his presence like a physical pain.
“I can make this work, Edgeworth. I know it.”
Edgeworth finally managed to step back. He was completely positive that if he didn't get away now, Wright would touch him again or say something and Miles would absolutely shatter, leaving himself exposed to that something of Phoenix's that disturbed him as much as it entranced him. That could not happen. They could not happen. This would- it was-
“...the end of us both.” Edgeworth murmured unsteadily. Lines of paranoia were laced through his every word, yet Phoenix's poise did not degrade. He looked up at Wright once again and a flurry of emotions assailed him under that steady gaze.
“What you think you know has little bearing on my answer,” he said acidly, carefully crafted demeanor slowly reforming, “which is most vehemently a no. I am going now, and we will not speak of this again, verstehen Sie?” Miles switched to the clipped sounds of German to hide the tremor still going through his voice. He turned around and walked across the empty street towards the discretely parked cab, stride growing steadier with every step.
“I'll see you in court tomorrow, Miles.”
Very determinedly, Edgeworth didn't look back at the horrifying man who was almost certainly standing on the curb with that same burning look he always had when he was so close to breaking another of Miles' well-crafted testimonies, when he knew he had found, with out a doubt, the truth that lay in a man's soul and was no more than a breath away from the words that would break it free-
He didn't look back; he didn't look back.
///
END
None swapfic related things: RL has EATEN MY SOUL, which is why I've produced next to nothing lately. Evil, evil college essays. EVIL.
Now, time to work on Neb's Christmas present~ :D