Work Text:
Miles Edgeworth would never have said anything if he and Phoenix hadn’t sunk most of a bottle of wine between them on a Thursday evening. If he hadn’t been lying on the sofa, his head on Phoenix’s lap, warm and wanted and safe. Too safe. That was the problem. In every way.
Miles was chiding himself for forgetting that Phoenix could hold his alcohol far better than he could, even as he said it, as he said, “When lived with Von Karma, I used to think about you all the time.”
“Oh.” Phoenix shifted under him in a way that suggested he was very keen to hear more.
Miles was, sadly, too drunk not to oblige. “All the time. I was, I suppose, 15. That was the age all that started for me. And you would have been that too, of course, the same age, but, for obvious reasons, I used to imagine you older. I’d imagine the man you would soon grown into.” Miles took another drink. “My imagination was very flattering.”
“Oh charming,” Phoenix muttered.
Miles was glad he couldn’t see Phoenix’s face when he said, “Actually that’s not true. I suppose I thought I was being flattering, rather generous. It turned out I was reasonably accurate.”
“Reasonably!” Phoenix said, still unhappy he didn’t compare well to this fantasy version.
“Yes. I just mean I got a few things wrong. I hadn’t seen many naked men when I was 15. Any naked men. In real life. But I had seen…”
“Porn,” Phoenix chuckled into his glass.
“Yes, porn,” said Miles, indignant. “I’d seen porn. Of course. In my sexually liberated childhood, growing up with Von Karma I saw absolute scads of porn. I watched porn all day. As is clear from the man I have become.” A breath. “No. I had not seen porn at 15. But I’d seen films. Shirtless men on TV. So I did make you. Like that.”
He could feel the way Phoenix raised an eyebrow,
“You know,” Miles went on. “Muscular, I suppose. And hairless.”
Phoenix choked. “Hairless? Bald?”
“Don’t be a goofball. I mean no body hair. No hair on your chest. I thought it was hot. Back then, I mean.”
After a few moments Phoenix said, “So what did I do? Buff hairless me?”
“We met,” said Miles, shiftily. “In a bar. I’d just imagine running into you.”
“And what would happen.”
Miles swallowed. “You’d be, pushy.”
“What? Pushy how. Like I’d ask you for money?”
“Yes. As a boy of 15 I had a regular sexual fantasy about an adult version of you asking me for money,” Miles said, dripping sarcasm.
“Oh, so this is a sexual fantasy.”
“You know very well that it is.”
“I do now. And in that case, do continue.”
“Okay. So I’d imagine you. Forward. Sexually. Very, actually. I used to imagine that you wouldn’t take no for an answer. We go out to a back alley and you’d be…” Miles took a slow breath. “Rough with me. Extremely.”
Phoenix’s hand was on Miles’s thigh, high on is thigh. How had it got there?
“Jesus Miles” Phoenix said, squeezing gently. “How rough are we talking? How kinky was this fantasy?”
Miles said it fast. “You’d hold me down. I’d have no choice. You’d force me.” Miles forced down the whimper that wanted to end that sentence. Dear god, this still did it for him.
“Fuck,” said Phoenix. It was a heavy sound, an aroused sound. “That’s really what you were into?”
“Yes. But you have to remember I was very buttoned up then.”
“You’re buttoned up now.”
“I suppose so, yes, but I liked to think of you, in contrasts, as very…”
“Unbuttoned. In you fantasy. And rapey.”
Miles looked away. Embarrassed. “Look, you don’t have to say it so…” Phoenix touched his arm. “You don’t have to say it like that. It’s just a fantasy. And when I lived with Von Karma… The fact is, if you really must know, when I first found I had sexual desires, I found them, encumbering, embarrassing, really. I didn’t want to want things. Not the things I wanted. It felt so vulgar. And so I…”
“You fantasised that you met me in a bar and I just held you down and fucked you?”
“Ah, there’s that incisive Phoenix Wright mind. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you then. Obviously now it all seems rather foolish to think something like that, that you would be capable of…”
“Wouldn’t I?” said Phoenix.
“What?”
“So you haven’t thought about that since you met me?” Phoenix said, a chime of tease in his voice.
“Well….”
“Since we got together?”
“Is, is it important?”
Phoenix touched Miles’s cheek. “Look,” Phoenix said, “what I am trying to establish here is if such a thing is still, of interest.”
Miles went a little pink. “What do you mean?”
“Because,” Phoenix said, and how was he suddenly so breathless? “because I could do that for you.”
“What?”
“I’m stronger than you. I could do that.” He said it like it was dangerous. Like he couldn’t quite believe it
“Now?” Miles said, too quick and too sharp. Far too eager.
“No. You’re too drunk.”
“I imagine to will take me 3 to 4 hours to process this volume of alcohol.”
Phoenix laughed. “We have work tomorrow. But after that…Tomorrow evening would you like to meet me, by chance, in a bar? Not the real me, the one your 15 year old self imagined?”
“Are you sure?” said Miles, surprised he could speak.
*
By late afternoon, Miles had read and reread the email Phoenix had sent. Of course it said nothing much. Phoenix knew better than to put anything salacious in an email to Miles. It was just the name of a bar and a time. And the phrase ‘I’ll be wearing blue’, followed by a winky face, as if Miles would need help to recognise him.
There had been a text too. A text that made Miles’s mouth dry. It had said. Safe word: parrot.
He was almost an hour early to the bar.
It was a nice place. There was huge chandelier over the bar, glittering in the centre of the room. A large plate glass window looked out over a busy street. Miles sat right by it, so he could wait for Phoenix’s arrival, nursing a glass of cranberry juice. He was so nervous he could barely sit still.
His attention must have left the street at some point, because he hadn’t seen Phoenix outside when he felt the heavy clap on his shoulder.
“Edgeworth? Oh my god, Edgie. It is you, isn’t it?”
When Miles turned Phoenix looked different somehow. Taller? No, that’s ridiculous. How could he be taller?
He wore jeans and a blue t shirt, a casual outfit of the type Miles had seen before, but his hair was a little slicker and his eyes were different. Slyer. And slyer still when they slipped, obviously, down Miles’s body, making him feel like he was wearing rather less that a three piece suit and shirt and an undershirt. This, he understood in a rush, was acting.
And Phoenix was good at it.
“I said, ‘isn’t it?’” said Phoenix, a little steel in his tone.
Miles wasn’t sure hw long he’d been staring. “Er, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it’s me.” He didn’t have to act. This version of Phoenix made him feel uneasy.
“Thought so, Edgey. Old times. So can I join you?” Phoenix clicked his tongue behind his teeth.
How on earth had he made that sound like ‘can I fuck you?’.
“Yes. Sure,” sad Miles.
There was one other chair at the table. It was opposite Miles, positioned a little closer to the window. The normal way to get to it would have been to walk around the table, but Phoenix, instead, placed a hand on Miles’s leg and proceeded to climb over him to get to the chair via the window side.
As he did so, his mouth found Miles’s ear. “Okay?” he whispered. “Not too much.”
“No,” was all Miles managed, wondering if his half hard dick would answer for him as Phoenix all but sat in his lap as he clambered. “Please,” he muttered, “please continue.”
When he reached it, Phoenix flopped into the chair, legs wide, one arm slung over the back of it. He had a beer bottle in one hand and he tipped it to his mouth, doing that look again where he seemed to burn through the fabric of Miles’s clothes with his vision. He seemed drunk, but he hadn’t smelt of alcohol at all.
“Well, well, well,” said Phoenix, setting down the bottle. “Miles Edgeworth. I’ve missed you. I wrote to you, you know. You never wrote back.”
“I didn’t…” Miles stammered out, dear god, how was Phoenix being like this making him so useless? He could barely speak. “I didn’t receive any letters from you.”
“Sure,” said Phoenix.
“Really, I didn’t,” said Miles, taking a fussy sip of his juice. The ice rattled in his glass and he saw Phoenix noticing. He could barely stand how hot this was. He hadn’t expected Phoenix to be so good at this. He was already in a state where if this man, whoever he was, ordered him to get on his knees and blow him, right here in the bar, he’d do it. He’d do anything Phoenix said right now. Dear god, wasn’t this supposed to be a role play where he resisted? Did he have it in him to do so?
“And you fucked off without saying goodbye,” sad Phoenix. “Rude that.”
“I’m sorry,” sad Miles.
“Are you?” sad Phoenix. “How sorry?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Phoenix said, “maybe you ought to make it up to me.”
Miles forced a half-laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“What, you’re not going to buy me a drink?”
“Oh,” said Miles. “A drink. Sure. Of course.” He got to his feet. Was it obvious how aroused he was?
Phoenix grinned at him. “Yeah? What did you think I meant?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
“That right,” Phoenix drawled. “I’ll have another beer.”
Miles returned from the bar with another bottle of beer, which Phoenix took a long pull from, although Miles noticed that when he set the bottle down it was still almost full.
Miles fussed with his half-drunk cranberry juice. He wasn’t sure what would happen next. In his fantasies he hadn’t bothered much with this part, just wrapped his fist around his dick and thought about being fucked in an alley way.
Would Phoenix actually take him to an alley way. He’d probably have to say Parrot if he did.
“What are you day-dreaming about?” said Phoenix.
Miles looked up. “Nothing, sorry.”
“As if I need to ask,” Phoenix said, raising an eyebrow. “You haven’t changed a bit. You want to get out of here?”
“What? I don’t know. And go where?”
“How about you give me a lift home. For old times,” Phoenix said. Miles breathed a small sigh of relief that there seemingly wasn’t an alley way in his future.
On the short drive to Phoenix’s house, Phoenix made a show of directing Miles as if he didn’t know the way. When they pulled up outside, Phoenix said, “Come in for a drink?”
“I don’t know,” said Miles. It came out a little breathily and he saw Phoenix’s expression change at that.
“Come on, Edgey. Old times.” Phoenix said and flashed a full-toothed grin that Miles didn’t think he’d ever been able to resist no matter what the context..
“Okay,” he said.
“Great,” Phoenix said, clapping his hands. “Come inside. And don’t worry. I won’t bite. Not unless you ask very nicely.” Phoenix winked, turning away to get out of the car before he caught Miles’s eye roll.
“So this is your place?” Miles said sitting down on the couch, looking at the familiar living room.
Phoenix was standing, leaning against the opposite wall. “I said I missed you, do you remember?”
“Yes. I missed you too.”
“Yeah?” Phoenix cocked his head. “How much? You think about me?”
“No,” Miles said, quickly.
“Liar. You thinking about me now?” Phoenix pushed off the wall, moving closer.
“Of course I am. I’m in your house. I’m talking to you.”
Phoenix was across the room, standing over Miles on the sofa. He smiled down. “I meant.” He bent at the waist, looming closer. “You thinking about me fucking you?” The syllable fuck seemed to jump out of the word, and hang there, like a tangible thing in the air between them.
“No.” Miles leaned back Phoenix was right in his face “And do you mind?”
Phoenix put his hands on the back of the couch, caging Miles where he sat. “Actually I don’t. And you need to stop telling me lies.”
“I assure you,” Miles spluttered, “I am not thinking about anything of the sort.”
“Kiss me.”
“I will not.”
Phoenix dropped into a straddle over Miles’s lap. Phoenix’s knees were on each side of him, effectively pinning his arms to his sides. He couldn’t move. He felt a hot flip of arousal as he felt Phoenix dick, hard and nudged up against his own.
“I said kiss me,” Phoenix whispered. “You said you’d missed me. Fucking kiss me.”
“Not like that. I didn’t mean that.”
“No?” Phoenix twitched his hips then moved slower so their erections slid over each other.
Miles choked. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“No?” Phoenix put a hand on Miles’s cheek, his thumb just at the corner of Miles’s mouth.
“Listen to me, Edgey. there are two ways we can do this. You can be nice to me and you can kiss me, or I will really hurt you. You know I can. Don’t make me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Miles’s closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, Phoenix. I’ll kiss you.”
“Thank you.” Phoenix leaned down and carefully kissed Miles bottom lip. Then immediately pulled away.
Miles’s eyes snapped open. He’d been expecting more than that. He’d been expecting a deep vicious exploration of his mouth, his air pulled, his head forced back, bites down his throat. He blinked at Phoenix.
Phoenix grinned. “Not enough?”
Miles tried not to shake. “It seemed like you wanted more.”
Phoenix smiled. He seemed pleased abut something. “Oh, I do, Edgey. I really do. Tell me, when did you last get really well fucked? When did you last scream?”
In truth the answer was three days ago. And It was Phoenix who had done it. But for the sake of he fantasy, what would make most sense?
Miles took a breath, he even let his eyelashes flutter a little and said, “I’ve never.”
“Never, eh? Really, Well you’re gonna get fucked tonight, baby.”
“What? Phoenix, no, please you can’t.”
“I can. You heard what I said. I will hurt you. Now, let’s get you undressed.”
Somehow Phoenix shifted Miles from underneath him without giving him much freedom to move. He pulled off the jacket and the waistcoat, while Miles whined out, wait please, struggling to get a hand free enough to undo some of the buttons, before the entire thing was shredded. But the way Phoenix didn’t care about ruining his clothing was making Miles’s buck helplessly.
When Phoenix ripped his shirt open, too fast for Miles to preserve a single button, Miles made a humiliating gasping sound and looked up to find himself lying on the sofa, shirtless, chest heaving as he looked up at Phoenix, smiling down at him.
“Someone grew up nice,” Phoenix said, dragging a slow finger down the centre line of Miles’s chest. Miles barely had time to gasp at this before Phoenix pulled his own t shirt over his head to reveal that he had - oh god - he’d shaved his chest.
Phoenix caught Miles’s eye. Miles knew he was staring. It wasn’t that Miles didn’t like the way Phoenix usually looked, he did, very much, but Phoenix looked so different like this, without the dark hair he normally had across the centre of his chest, he looked more naked. “See something you like?” Phoenix said.
Miles’s struggled for a moment to stay in the game. Not to shriek at Phoenix, you impulsive fool. How could you do such a thing. Just for me. Just to make me happy. I love you.
But he swallowed and he said, “You know very well this is happening under duress.”
“I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” said Phoenix, shucking down and getting Miles’s pants off. It took a moment or too, and then Miles was naked under Phoenix, and Phoenix already had a hand between his legs, a promise of what was to come.
Miles’s dick was hard, had been hard long before Phoenix got is hands on it, the pad of his flat thumb working the precome beading at the tip, sliding it around until most of his palm was coated, slick against Miles’s flesh.
Miles shuddered, back arching into his touch as he whimpered out, “Please, please don’t.”
“Shush,” Phoenix cooed back, jacking Miles’s dick a little harder. “Let me get you ready for me. You like it rough, I imagine?”
“No, I…”
“No?” said Phoenix. “I guess we’ll see.” His hand stilled on Miles’s dick and Miles couldn’t stop himself looking up at Phoenix, glassy eyed, chest heaving. He was so turned on, he didn’t think he could put up and adequate show of resisting now if he tried.
Phoenix’s hand slipped down further between Miles’s legs. Miles rolled his head back against the couch cushions as he felt the touch there. A familiar finger, slicked with something when Miles’s hadn’t been paying attention, but there was an easy press there and a finger inside him and for the sake of the game they were playing he really should have fought that, said no, or something like that, but he had no words. Phoenix nipped at his ear, “Looks like someone’s forgotten to act like they don’t want this,” he said.
Miles opened his eyes and looked at him.
Phoenix slipped in a second finger. “Always was the most implausible part of that fantasy if you ask me. That you wouldn’t beg to be fucked.”
Miles carried on staring at him. The fingers inside him felt so good. Better than he’d ever imagined they could. Had he even imagined this part? All it had ever been was someone strong holding his face to a wall, shoving into him rough and careless, while he’d begged for them to stop. This had been nothing like any of that. This had been…
“Phoenix,” Miles said, “please fuck me.”
Phoenix smiled. His real smile. Miles hadn’t seen that all smile all evening. “I’d be delighted.” Phoenix said, fingers slipping out, hips repositioning. Miles’s fingers found Phoenix’s lips, catching his attention.
“But you can,” Miles swallowed, “you can still be an ass to me while you do it. I like it.”
“That right?” Phoenix said in that drawl that wasn’t quite him, but was so very him.
“Yes, please.”
“Okay then, Princess Edgeworth, lets see if you scream for cock as much as you look like you’re gonna,” said Phoenix as he held Miles by the shoulder and slammed his dick into him. It was quick and hard, no easy slide. Miles was well prepared but it still made him yell out. Phoenix had never, ever fucked him this roughly. Fingernails in his flesh as he pulled back to fuck into him again. Swift and hard. The whole couch was shifting under them.
“See,” Phoenix said, half a snarl, pressing out words in time with his vicious fucking, “I knew you’d like it like this. Fucking comes off you in waves.” Phoenix voice was broken up with panting breaths. He was fucking Miles so hard he was already sweating. Miles writhed under him, skewered on his dick, nowhere to go except up and down the couch cushions as Phoenix slammed into him, using his body. Miles dick was wet between them, still hard and dripping.
“You want to come?” Phoenix snarled down. “You gonna come from being fucked because you sure look like you’re gonna.”
“Yes,” Miles sobbed out, “god, yes. Please make me come. Touch me and make me come.”
Phoenix’s hand found Miles’s dick, easily. When he curled his fingers around it, if was as if he lost it, Phoenix sighed, slowing the pace of his fucking, eyes on Miles’s.
“Come on, babe,” he said, the act falling away, melting off him. Miles watched his face turn softer, almost boyish as Phoenix whispered, “Come for me, Miles. Please.”
It took Miles a second to comply, an orgasm that had been building for hours, perhaps for decades. He cried out so loud and so long, he barely noticed Phoenix finishing, noticed nothing much until he was lying, naked and exhausted in Phoenix’s arms, gazing at him. They were on the floor, along with most of the couch cushions. Miles had no idea when that had happened.
He said, “So you can act?”
“A bit,” said Phoenix. “I guess. I did a class.”