I Touch Myself
A dabble for the kink meme. Please be gentle, it's my first PWP.
Title: I Touch Myself
Pairing: Phoenix Wright / Miles Edgeworth
Warnings: Um... masturbation? Pseudo-phonesex... and just a touch of angst. Mild GS1 spoilers.
Prompt: "Hold it!" ~ Phoenix Wright teaching Miles Edgeworth masturbation.
"HOLD IT!" Phoenix's voice slammed into Miles's ear with the force of a jackhammer. He held the phone away from his ear and winced.
"Wright, please! I need those ears for court!"
"But, you've- What, never?" Wright was quieter, so he could move the phone back to his ear.
"No, never."
"What, never?" The concept didn't seem to be getting through, and Miles was getting nervous.
The conversation had started out easily enough. He had called Wright on the fifth day of his business trip, wanting to hear the other man's voice. They'd only been lovers for a few weeks, but those weeks had been quite eventful. After their first time, Miles's first time... they'd been positively clingy. He'd seen his spiky-haired partner almost every day, and had bedded him nearly as often. He supposed it was a mixture of Wright's apparent insatiability and their both being in the "honeymoon period", so to speak. Unfortunately, he'd left Germany rather abruptly before the Engarde case, and he still had a few loose ends that could best be wrapped up in Europe, along with some errands for the prosecutor's office.
He had called because he'd been lonely, and because Phoenix couldn't afford the international phone bills. He'd called expecting another conversation like they'd had the first night of his trip, talking about the weather and how everyone was back home, listening to Wright ramble like he always did. Telling Wright he missed him. The other man's ernest reply.
Instead...
"No, of course I haven't!"
"You've never masturbated..."
"NO! I don't see why this is such a shock." he protested.
If anything, it was a shock that Phoenix Wright apparently did. He had always been taught that engaging in such activities was both pointless and perverse. He swallowed, not wanting to think about it. Technically, he had once, but so long ago... It was his private sin, only von Karma had known.
"Not once?"
And now Wright was talking earnestly about his private shame? Asking, incredulously, as though Miles had said he didn't breathe.
"Well..." He bit his lip. "Von Karma said-"
"Von Karma? Wonderful." He could feel Phoenix's eyes rolling, an ocean and a continent away. "Let me guess, he told you it wasn't something perfect people did."
"Actually..." He'd said it was something much worse than that, he'd called it a pathology, painted the concept as disturbing and morally repugnant, making it clear that Miles was a sick, twisted child.
Miles had wanted to, later, but resisted the urges. He'd laid in bed at night, trying not to think about the things that would make his blood run hot. Trying to be something other than the monster he knew he was, the boy who was disturbed enough to kill his own father, to want to do something so wrong. The sickness was so ingrained in him that he'd wake up in the night with his sheets and legs covered in evidence, sinning even in his dreams, and had bundled the soiled cloth into the incinerator, praying nobody would find out.
"Miles, are you there?" Wright sounded worried.
"Yes." He shook his head, trying to dislodge the unpleasant memories. "He said... Said I was-" He didn't want to continue, his throat seized up and he stopped talking.
"Listen... I don't know what that sadist told you, but he was just messing with your head. Either that, or he was so repressed himself he couldn't imagine anyone else actually enjoying themselves."
"What exactly are you saying, Wright?"
"I'm saying it's normal! Completely and utterly normal!" He sounded incredulous. "After all, doesn't it hurt having blue balls all the time?"
"Well, not all the time..." Miles wasn't sure what to think, but he was more inclined to trust his best friend and lover over the man who'd murdered his parents. And the feeling of need... it had been alleviated during his time with Phoenix, but his separation from the other man had brought it back twice as strong.
Suddenly, he found his mouth twitching. The smirk turned to a chuckle, then into full-on laughter.
"Miles? What's so funny?"
"It's- It's just that I was so afraid of you finding out... finding out I wanted to- I thought you'd leave me if you found out... because there was something wrong with me!" He gasped in between. It was just so ironic, and so twisted- he was laughing, he wanted to cry. All this time, he'd thought he was some kind of horrible pervert.
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then- "You thought it was that bad?"
"I thought I was sick, Wright... and you're certain it's normal?"
"Positive."
"Have you..." He wasn't sure wether this would be crossing a line, but he wanted to know, to have a little more confirmation that he wasn't sick. "Have you done it recently?"
"Y-yeah." He could feel the heat of Phoenix's blush over the phone lines. "The night before last. I was thinking about how much I missed you and you hadn't called in a while, and then I was remembering the night before you left..."
"Mmmm." Miles remembered. Their farewell had been passionate to say the least, not to mention exhausting.
"I was thinking about you the whole time, you know." Phoenix's voice was low, moving towards his bedroom purr. "I was moaning your name."
"Oh." Miles couldn't think of anything else to say because he'd been hit with a very sudden, very vivid mental image. He almost missed Phoenix's next words.
"Do you want to try, Miles?"
"Well, I'm not sure-" Knowing he wasn't sick was one thing, but a lifetime of conditioning was hard to break.
"Should I talk you through it?" Phoenix's voice was kind, Miles knew the expression that must be on his face.
Miles swallowed. He trusted Phoenix with his life, Phoenix would never do a thing to hurt him.
"All right, go ahead."
After a bit of debate (he was alone in a private room, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing) Miles put the phone on speaker to leave both hands free. He sat back on the bed, feeling a mixture of scared, turned on, and mildly silly.
"So, um... what now?"
"Take your clothes off first, 'cause I'm guessing you don't want those clothes of yours to get dirty."
"Of course not, they're expensive. Armani originals." He felt a little ridiculous, stripping for a phone, but he did it anyway, folding each article of clothing precisely on the bed.
Phoenix chuckled on the other end. "I can't believe I ever thought you were straight."
"If you're going to make fun of me-"
"No, I won't, honest." Another chuckle. "Now, lie or sit down on the bed, it doesn't really matter. Get comfy."
Miles complied, lying down on the side of the bed nearest the phone. He wasn't sure exactly where to look, so he just stared at the phone.
"Now, just think about something that makes you horny, a memory or fantasy usually works. It doesn't really matter what, but I'd be flattered if it was me."
Miles chuckled a little, closing his eyes. Phoenix sounded... almost matter-of-fact in his instructions. He searched his mind for a suitable memory (he'd avoided indulging in sexual fantasies for too long to have one handy). Finally, he settled on the first time Phoenix had sucked him off. The way he'd looked up at Miles, his eyes half closed as he sucked on the prosecutor's cock...
Oh, god, he was getting hard already.
For a moment he struggled with the urge to pull up his usual erection-killer, the mental image of Oldbag naked. He fought and won, keeping his thoughts focused on Phoenix's voice and his imaginary mouth.
"You've got one?"
"Yeah... that time in the janitor's closet." This was so surreal.
"Oh, good one..." The purr was back in Phoenix's voice. Miles heard something on the other end he could've sworn was a zipper being pulled down. "Now, wrap your hand around your cock, just like I do when I'm in you. Hold it just tight enough that it feels good when you rub it."
Tentatively, his hand slipped down moving to his hardening cock. He hesitated before taking himself in hand, preforming an experimental stroke.
"Oooh!"
"Is it good?"
"Y- yeah." He moved his hand again and again, feeling the foreskin dragging over the head, his dick hardening under his own ministrations. "I wish it was your hand, though."
"Oh, so do I." There was no mistake, Phoenix was breathing a little faster. "Try your memory again. Imagine it's not your hand, but my mouth, OK?"
Oh yes, more than ok...
"My lips, dragging over the head..."
Oh god, there's precum there...
"Y-your nipple. Try pinching it."
Oh... my... He rolled the nub between his fingers, feeling it go stiff with alarming speed. Then he remembered, something that always felt so good when Phoenix did it.
"Nick, my... my balls..." It was getting harder to talk.
"Do it." The other man was panting heavily. Miles knew his face would be scrunched up, Oh god, his brow furrowed with concentration and eyes closed, biting his lip. "Miles, your f-face when I do that... Unh..."
"But... how?" He'd moved his left hand down, cupping himself, stroking his sack, but it wasn't the same. Phoenix would take them into his mouth, sucking on the flesh and teasing them with his tongue, bathing the sensitive skin with saliva.
"Your fingers. S-suck on them, then try it..."
Miles moaned as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them, covering his hand in saliva with long licks. Moving down, he rubbed the skin and mein gott it was so hot, and the imaginary Phoenix was touching him all over, and the real Phoenix's voice was coming out of the speaker in gasps and moans that didn't sound like words anymore. His hands were moving faster, he was bucking up into his own grip and he couldn't help it, it was too much-
"NICK!" He practically yelled as his balls went tight and his whole body shuddered. He kept pumping as he emptied himself all over his own stomach. His mind went blissfully blank for a moment, returning just in time to hear his own name yelled by a man half a world away.
He lay there, gasping, slumped back against the pillows. It wasn't the longest or most powerful orgasm he'd ever experienced, but it was a novel experience, bringing about his own release. And he didn't feel dirty, or shameful... he didn't feel anything except for a pleasant post-orgasmic lethargy creeping into his bones, and a slightly silly grin spreading across his face.
"So, was it good?" Phoenix's voice was back, slightly breathless but chipper.
"Yeah... Definitely..." He sighed. "Still, it's better when it's you."
"For me too. You're so much better..." He sighed.
"See you in two days?"
"I'll count the hours. And Miles?"
"Yes?" He murmured, sleepily.
"Next time... can I watch?"
Miles hesitated. The thought of Phoenix sitting across the bed from him, watching with smoldering blue eyes...
"Only if I can watch you too."
"Deal!" The phone clicked, and the little red light on the display shut off.
The prosecutor sat up, pushing the hair out of his eyes and looking down at himself. He was covered in sweat and come... and after Phoenix's proposition, he'd gotten hard again.
Oh well, He smiled as he wrapped his hand once more around the shaft. If I'm going to be doing this with an audience, I should probably get some more practice in.
Luckily he didn't have much work left to do after that, because he was distracted for the rest of the week. After all, he had a lot of catching up to do.
Title: I Touch Myself
Pairing: Phoenix Wright / Miles Edgeworth
Warnings: Um... masturbation? Pseudo-phonesex... and just a touch of angst. Mild GS1 spoilers.
Prompt: "Hold it!" ~ Phoenix Wright teaching Miles Edgeworth masturbation.
"HOLD IT!" Phoenix's voice slammed into Miles's ear with the force of a jackhammer. He held the phone away from his ear and winced.
"Wright, please! I need those ears for court!"
"But, you've- What, never?" Wright was quieter, so he could move the phone back to his ear.
"No, never."
"What, never?" The concept didn't seem to be getting through, and Miles was getting nervous.
The conversation had started out easily enough. He had called Wright on the fifth day of his business trip, wanting to hear the other man's voice. They'd only been lovers for a few weeks, but those weeks had been quite eventful. After their first time, Miles's first time... they'd been positively clingy. He'd seen his spiky-haired partner almost every day, and had bedded him nearly as often. He supposed it was a mixture of Wright's apparent insatiability and their both being in the "honeymoon period", so to speak. Unfortunately, he'd left Germany rather abruptly before the Engarde case, and he still had a few loose ends that could best be wrapped up in Europe, along with some errands for the prosecutor's office.
He had called because he'd been lonely, and because Phoenix couldn't afford the international phone bills. He'd called expecting another conversation like they'd had the first night of his trip, talking about the weather and how everyone was back home, listening to Wright ramble like he always did. Telling Wright he missed him. The other man's ernest reply.
Instead...
"No, of course I haven't!"
"You've never masturbated..."
"NO! I don't see why this is such a shock." he protested.
If anything, it was a shock that Phoenix Wright apparently did. He had always been taught that engaging in such activities was both pointless and perverse. He swallowed, not wanting to think about it. Technically, he had once, but so long ago... It was his private sin, only von Karma had known.
"Not once?"
And now Wright was talking earnestly about his private shame? Asking, incredulously, as though Miles had said he didn't breathe.
"Well..." He bit his lip. "Von Karma said-"
"Von Karma? Wonderful." He could feel Phoenix's eyes rolling, an ocean and a continent away. "Let me guess, he told you it wasn't something perfect people did."
"Actually..." He'd said it was something much worse than that, he'd called it a pathology, painted the concept as disturbing and morally repugnant, making it clear that Miles was a sick, twisted child.
Miles had wanted to, later, but resisted the urges. He'd laid in bed at night, trying not to think about the things that would make his blood run hot. Trying to be something other than the monster he knew he was, the boy who was disturbed enough to kill his own father, to want to do something so wrong. The sickness was so ingrained in him that he'd wake up in the night with his sheets and legs covered in evidence, sinning even in his dreams, and had bundled the soiled cloth into the incinerator, praying nobody would find out.
"Miles, are you there?" Wright sounded worried.
"Yes." He shook his head, trying to dislodge the unpleasant memories. "He said... Said I was-" He didn't want to continue, his throat seized up and he stopped talking.
"Listen... I don't know what that sadist told you, but he was just messing with your head. Either that, or he was so repressed himself he couldn't imagine anyone else actually enjoying themselves."
"What exactly are you saying, Wright?"
"I'm saying it's normal! Completely and utterly normal!" He sounded incredulous. "After all, doesn't it hurt having blue balls all the time?"
"Well, not all the time..." Miles wasn't sure what to think, but he was more inclined to trust his best friend and lover over the man who'd murdered his parents. And the feeling of need... it had been alleviated during his time with Phoenix, but his separation from the other man had brought it back twice as strong.
Suddenly, he found his mouth twitching. The smirk turned to a chuckle, then into full-on laughter.
"Miles? What's so funny?"
"It's- It's just that I was so afraid of you finding out... finding out I wanted to- I thought you'd leave me if you found out... because there was something wrong with me!" He gasped in between. It was just so ironic, and so twisted- he was laughing, he wanted to cry. All this time, he'd thought he was some kind of horrible pervert.
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then- "You thought it was that bad?"
"I thought I was sick, Wright... and you're certain it's normal?"
"Positive."
"Have you..." He wasn't sure wether this would be crossing a line, but he wanted to know, to have a little more confirmation that he wasn't sick. "Have you done it recently?"
"Y-yeah." He could feel the heat of Phoenix's blush over the phone lines. "The night before last. I was thinking about how much I missed you and you hadn't called in a while, and then I was remembering the night before you left..."
"Mmmm." Miles remembered. Their farewell had been passionate to say the least, not to mention exhausting.
"I was thinking about you the whole time, you know." Phoenix's voice was low, moving towards his bedroom purr. "I was moaning your name."
"Oh." Miles couldn't think of anything else to say because he'd been hit with a very sudden, very vivid mental image. He almost missed Phoenix's next words.
"Do you want to try, Miles?"
"Well, I'm not sure-" Knowing he wasn't sick was one thing, but a lifetime of conditioning was hard to break.
"Should I talk you through it?" Phoenix's voice was kind, Miles knew the expression that must be on his face.
Miles swallowed. He trusted Phoenix with his life, Phoenix would never do a thing to hurt him.
"All right, go ahead."
After a bit of debate (he was alone in a private room, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing) Miles put the phone on speaker to leave both hands free. He sat back on the bed, feeling a mixture of scared, turned on, and mildly silly.
"So, um... what now?"
"Take your clothes off first, 'cause I'm guessing you don't want those clothes of yours to get dirty."
"Of course not, they're expensive. Armani originals." He felt a little ridiculous, stripping for a phone, but he did it anyway, folding each article of clothing precisely on the bed.
Phoenix chuckled on the other end. "I can't believe I ever thought you were straight."
"If you're going to make fun of me-"
"No, I won't, honest." Another chuckle. "Now, lie or sit down on the bed, it doesn't really matter. Get comfy."
Miles complied, lying down on the side of the bed nearest the phone. He wasn't sure exactly where to look, so he just stared at the phone.
"Now, just think about something that makes you horny, a memory or fantasy usually works. It doesn't really matter what, but I'd be flattered if it was me."
Miles chuckled a little, closing his eyes. Phoenix sounded... almost matter-of-fact in his instructions. He searched his mind for a suitable memory (he'd avoided indulging in sexual fantasies for too long to have one handy). Finally, he settled on the first time Phoenix had sucked him off. The way he'd looked up at Miles, his eyes half closed as he sucked on the prosecutor's cock...
Oh, god, he was getting hard already.
For a moment he struggled with the urge to pull up his usual erection-killer, the mental image of Oldbag naked. He fought and won, keeping his thoughts focused on Phoenix's voice and his imaginary mouth.
"You've got one?"
"Yeah... that time in the janitor's closet." This was so surreal.
"Oh, good one..." The purr was back in Phoenix's voice. Miles heard something on the other end he could've sworn was a zipper being pulled down. "Now, wrap your hand around your cock, just like I do when I'm in you. Hold it just tight enough that it feels good when you rub it."
Tentatively, his hand slipped down moving to his hardening cock. He hesitated before taking himself in hand, preforming an experimental stroke.
"Oooh!"
"Is it good?"
"Y- yeah." He moved his hand again and again, feeling the foreskin dragging over the head, his dick hardening under his own ministrations. "I wish it was your hand, though."
"Oh, so do I." There was no mistake, Phoenix was breathing a little faster. "Try your memory again. Imagine it's not your hand, but my mouth, OK?"
Oh yes, more than ok...
"My lips, dragging over the head..."
Oh god, there's precum there...
"Y-your nipple. Try pinching it."
Oh... my... He rolled the nub between his fingers, feeling it go stiff with alarming speed. Then he remembered, something that always felt so good when Phoenix did it.
"Nick, my... my balls..." It was getting harder to talk.
"Do it." The other man was panting heavily. Miles knew his face would be scrunched up, Oh god, his brow furrowed with concentration and eyes closed, biting his lip. "Miles, your f-face when I do that... Unh..."
"But... how?" He'd moved his left hand down, cupping himself, stroking his sack, but it wasn't the same. Phoenix would take them into his mouth, sucking on the flesh and teasing them with his tongue, bathing the sensitive skin with saliva.
"Your fingers. S-suck on them, then try it..."
Miles moaned as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them, covering his hand in saliva with long licks. Moving down, he rubbed the skin and mein gott it was so hot, and the imaginary Phoenix was touching him all over, and the real Phoenix's voice was coming out of the speaker in gasps and moans that didn't sound like words anymore. His hands were moving faster, he was bucking up into his own grip and he couldn't help it, it was too much-
"NICK!" He practically yelled as his balls went tight and his whole body shuddered. He kept pumping as he emptied himself all over his own stomach. His mind went blissfully blank for a moment, returning just in time to hear his own name yelled by a man half a world away.
He lay there, gasping, slumped back against the pillows. It wasn't the longest or most powerful orgasm he'd ever experienced, but it was a novel experience, bringing about his own release. And he didn't feel dirty, or shameful... he didn't feel anything except for a pleasant post-orgasmic lethargy creeping into his bones, and a slightly silly grin spreading across his face.
"So, was it good?" Phoenix's voice was back, slightly breathless but chipper.
"Yeah... Definitely..." He sighed. "Still, it's better when it's you."
"For me too. You're so much better..." He sighed.
"See you in two days?"
"I'll count the hours. And Miles?"
"Yes?" He murmured, sleepily.
"Next time... can I watch?"
Miles hesitated. The thought of Phoenix sitting across the bed from him, watching with smoldering blue eyes...
"Only if I can watch you too."
"Deal!" The phone clicked, and the little red light on the display shut off.
The prosecutor sat up, pushing the hair out of his eyes and looking down at himself. He was covered in sweat and come... and after Phoenix's proposition, he'd gotten hard again.
Oh well, He smiled as he wrapped his hand once more around the shaft. If I'm going to be doing this with an audience, I should probably get some more practice in.
Luckily he didn't have much work left to do after that, because he was distracted for the rest of the week. After all, he had a lot of catching up to do.