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Phoenix is surprised to hear a knock on his door so late at night. He’s enjoying a drink by himself, and he puts it down on the table to go answer. He’s been rereading over the files from today, still turning things over in his mind. It’s the wildest case he’s ever worked on, wilder even than figuring out that von Karma had murdered Gregory Edgeworth. He’s still trying to make sense of it in his head.
He opens his door not sure who to expect and is astonished when he sees Edgeworth standing there. He’s still wearing his maroon suit, and he’s clutching his arm, staring down at the ground. He doesn’t even look up when the door opens.
“Edgeworth?”
“Wright,” he says to the ground. Phoenix stands there for a moment, waiting for him to explain himself, and when nothing comes he clears his throat.
“Hi. Did you, um. Want to come in?”
Edgeworth pauses and then nods. Phoenix stands aside and Edgeworth brushes past him, standing in the foyer of Phoenix’s office looking intensely awkward.
“Edgeworth. What are you doing here? I thought you were, what was it? Tying up loose ends?”
“Yes, well. Consider this one of them.”
Phoenix’s eyebrows raise. “I’m a loose end?”
Edgeworth finally looks at him. “Wright. What we did today—what we did together—it was… it was… we…”
He’s never seen Edgeworth quite so flustered. He’s concerned. “Edgeworth, are you—”
He means to say okay. He doesn’t get a chance, because Edgeworth goes, “Oh, for God’s sake,” and launches himself at Phoenix.
Phoenix stumbles backwards, heart thudding in his chest. His first thought is that Edgeworth is attacking him, but something about that doesn't feel quite right; and then he feels lips on his, and he comes to the realization that he isn’t being attacked, he’s being kissed.
This is somehow more surprising than being attacked, but thankfully Phoenix’s body responds before his brain. His arms move up and wrap around Edgeworth’s sturdy body, head tilting to allow him closer, mouth responding. They tumble back towards the wall, the hard press of it at Phoenix’s back and the hard line of Edgeworth’s body at his front.
Edgeworth’s mouth is hungry, like he wants to devour, and Phoenix goes along for the ride. Hands come up to bury themselves in his spikes, gripping his hair, and his brain is going a million miles a minute. He can’t believe Edgeworth is kissing him. He can’t believe Edgeworth had kissed him first. In all of Phoenix’s fantasies it was him who had to make the first move, breaking through Edgeworth’s great wall of repression. That Edgeworth would kiss him first is more than surprising.
But hell, Phoenix isn’t going to complain. Not with the taste of Edgeworth on his tongue and his fingers curled in the frilly fabric of that ridiculous cravat. He tugs on it, pulling Edgeworth impossibly closer, the wall digging into his back as Edgeworth presses him against it.
They break for air, a reluctant necessity. Edgeworth has his eyes closed; he looks like he’s somewhere far away.
“Um,” Phoenix says, a nervous laugh escaping. “Should we talk about this?”
Edgeworth sways slightly on his feet before he says, quite firmly, “No.”
“Right,” Phoenix says. “Okay.” Then he is promptly kissed again.
Maybe he should stop this. Edgeworth is clearly not in his right mind. Phoenix knows the trial affected him, remembers a crumpled up resignation letter, but he can’t bring himself to pull away. Phoenix wouldn’t consider himself a selfish person, per se, but Miles Edgeworth’s kiss has made him one. It’s the only thing his mind can focus on.
Edgeworth yanks him forward, and Phoenix almost trips over his own feet as he is manhandled towards the old couch. He goes willingly, and even though it’s a tight fit they both fall onto it, Edgeworth atop him. They’re both still in their suits, but Phoenix’s pants are starting to feel considerably tighter, and the hard press on his leg tells him that Edgeworth is the same.
“Hey,” Phoenix says, breath stuttering as Edgeworth immediately attaches his lips to Phoenix’s neck. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I don’t have anything here. Like lube or, you know, condoms…?”
“Not a problem,” Edgeworth says. He climbs off Phoenix’s lap and kneels beside him on the floor, hands coming up to work on undoing Phoenix’s pants in an incredibly brazen manner.
“Holy shit, Edgeworth.” Phoenix lifts his hips at Edgeworth’s prompting as he is divested of his pants and boxers in one easy slide. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
Edgeworth doesn’t answer. Instead, as Phoenix’s erection stands tall between them, he puts his mouth to a much different use.
It’s been—a while, since Phoenix has had a blow job. Judging from this one, it’s been a while since Edgeworth has given one. He goes too deep the first time, pulling back and gagging, a sound that is going to live in Phoenix’s head for the rest of his damn life, thank you very much. But Edgeworth goes about it with the same stubborn, singlehanded determinedness that he does everything else. He licks up the shaft, hand coming to grip the base as he takes the head in his mouth, tongue pressing to the bottom. It’s warm, and wet, and fucking perfect, and Phoenix moans, hand scrabbling at the back of the couch for something to hold onto. He wants to wind his fingers through Edgeworth’s hair but he’s too afraid to. Even now, like this, there’s something about him that makes him feel untouchable.
Phoenix lets out a low noise through his teeth. “Holy shit, Edgeworth, your mouth,” he says, voice low but seeming loud in the quiet of the office. How many times has he sat on this couch, going over files and evidence, getting ready to face the very man who is currently sucking his cock? How fucking surreal is this?
If he had the presence of mind, he would have warned Edgeworth that it had been a while, but as it is he can already feel his orgasm building inside him. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, fighting to get this to last a little while longer, but it’s no use. The very fact that it’s Edgeworth is nearly enough to do him in, Edgeworth getting his fancy maroon suit dirty at the knees as he kneels to suck Phoenix off. The mental image alone would have been enough—the real thing is almost too much. So it isn’t long until he’s frantically tapping Edgeworth on the shoulder trying to warn him.
“Edgeworth—holy shit, Edgeworth, I’m gonna come. Edgeworth.”
Edgeworth does not pull away. If anything he buckles in, sinking down deeper on Phoenix’s cock, throat constricting hot and tight around him as he works Phoenix to the edge.
“Edgeworth,” he says, one last desperate warning. “Edgeworth, I—fuck!”
Phoenix comes down Miles Edgeworth’s throat. Dreams do come true.
Edgeworth swallows it all, because he’s an over-achiever like that. He pulls off of Phoenix and delicately wipes his mouth as Phoenix fights to come back to himself. It’s only when Edgeworth gets to his feet that Phoenix remembers the spirit of reciprocation.
“Wait, let me—” he says, struggling to sit up with his brain leaking out of his ears. But Edgeworth shakes his head.
“It’s not necessary, Wright.”
“Whuh?” Phoenix says intelligently. “What do you mean? Of course I want to—”
“No, I mean—” To his utter surprise he can see that Edgeworth is blushing. “It’s not—necessary. It’s been taken care of.”
Phoenix glances down to see that, indeed, Edgeworth’s pants are undone, and there’s a suspicious stain on his floor. He must have been pleasuring himself while he was blowing Phoenix. Jesus, Phoenix is going to have to deep clean this place before he lets Maya step foot in it again.
“Oh,” Phoenix says. “Right. Okay. That’s, uh, good, then?” He doesn’t really know what else to say. Given that Edgeworth is getting dressed again he decides to follow suit, pulling his pants back up and tucking himself into his underwear, sitting with his elbows on his knees as he watches Edgeworth stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Edgeworth—”
“I should go,” Edgeworth says suddenly, and Phoenix’s head snaps up.
“You… what? What are you talking about, you just got here. We just—we—”
“I have things I need to attend to,” Edgeworth says. Phoenix laughs disbelievingly and runs a hand through his hair. So much for aftercare.
“I—okay. Sure. Whatever you say.” He shouldn’t be surprised that Edgeworth is running. He’s probably freaking out. Phoenix is about thirty-five seconds from doing the same.
He gets up to follow Edgeworth to the door, but he pauses with his hand on the knob. “Wright, I…” he says, but then he shakes his head. “No matter,” he says quietly, opening the door. “Goodbye, Wright.”
“Yeah, sure,” Phoenix says, a little put out. No goodbye kiss or anything? “Call me, would you?”
Edgeworth leaves without answering.
Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.
Phoenix has a drink before he goes. Liquid courage. Then he stomps his way over to the Gatewater and pounds on the door of room 201.
Edgeworth opens it, his face immediately shutting down when he sees that it’s Phoenix. He takes a deep breath. “Wright.” Then he says, “How did you know I was here?”
“Gumshoe,” is all Phoenix says, silently apologizing to the man for what will no doubt be another dent in his paycheck. Edgeworth makes a face before he sighs and stands aside.
“You might as well come in, then,” he says, and Phoenix shoves past him.
He stands in the middle of Edgeworth’s hotel room. It’s fancier than the one April May had been staying in, a suite perhaps, but Phoenix has no doubt Edgeworth has stayed in swankier digs. He wonders why he chose here.
For a long moment, they stare at each other. Edgeworth, at the very least, has the decency to look ashamed, and it is he who breaks first.
“Wright—”
Phoenix holds up his hand, and Edgeworth obediently quiets.
“First,” Phoenix says, voice tight with emotion. “Thank you. For today. For Maya.”
“You need not—”
“I’m not done.” Edgeworth falls silent again. Phoenix takes a breath. “I am… so fucking mad at you,” he says.
When he doesn’t speak for a moment, Edgeworth takes that as permission. “You have every right to be,” he says softly.
“I’m mad you did it that way. I’m mad you did it that way after we—but mostly I’m mad at myself, because I can’t stop thinking about—” His mouth. His hands. His lips. “Goddamnit, Edgeworth.”
“Wright,” Edgeworth says. “I don’t blame you for your feelings. What I did was… abhorrent. I know that. And if I had to do it again, I’d…” he trails off, looking unsure. Phoenix takes a step forward.
“What. What would you do?”
Edgeworth looks him in the eyes. “I’d do it all over again.”
“Christ, Edgeworth,” he says, and then he steps forward again and grabs Edgeworth by his stupid face, kissing him.
Edgeworth responds immediately, mouth opening beneath Phoenix’s and hands coming up to scrunch in Phoenix’s lapels. Phoenix makes a noise that’s almost a growl, shoving Edgeworth backwards towards the bed. Edgeworth goes willingly, dragging Phoenix with him until they both collapse onto the freshly made sheets. Phoenix is on top this time, pressing Edgeworth down into the mattress as he kisses him breathless.
“Wright,” Edgeworth says. “I have things.”
“Things.”
“You know. Lubrication.”
“Lubrication.”
“I’m just saying,” Edgeworth says, sounding slightly annoyed. “If you want to take things—further than we did last time.”
“Yeah? What’s that mean?”
“I would certainly not object if you wanted to fuck me.”
Phoenix’s heart stutters in his chest, and a mixture of excitement and nervousness comes over him. “Yeah,” he says a little hoarsely, nodding so vigorously he probably looks like a bobble-head. “Yeah, okay.”
Edgeworth pushes him off and heads to his suitcase, and Phoenix spreads out on the bed and watches him rummage through it. He emerges holding a medium sized bottle and nothing else.
Phoenix raises his eyebrows. “Condoms?”
Edgeworth flushes. “Why would I have packed condoms?” he asks peevishly.
“So… no condom?”
Edgeworth looks deeply uncomfortable, and Phoenix would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting some sort of satisfaction out of it.
“If you are… okay with that,” Edgeworth says. Phoenix just shrugs.
“I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Right,” Edgeworth says, fidgeting. “Well, me neither. So.”
Phoenix grins. “Get back over here, then.”
Edgeworth does. They lay side by side as they kiss, and Phoenix’s hands come up to push Edgeworth’s jacket off his shoulders. Then they travel around to his neck, tugging at the frilly fabric there.
“Do you know how much I hate this thing,” he mumbles into Edgeworth’s mouth. “What goddamn year is it, Edgeworth?”
Edgeworth does not rise to his bait. “Take it off, then.”
“I would if I knew how.”
Edgeworth pulls away, hands coming up to his own neck, where he does something complicated before pulling his ridiculous cravat off. The sight of his neck, Phoenix is pretty sure, must be like what seeing an ankle was like for the Victorian’s. Phoenix almost immediately swoops in and presses his lips to the smooth skin there, tongue pressing against Edgeworth’s pulse point.
“Can I leave marks?” Phoenix asks desperately. “Your cravat will hide it.”
“Technically it’s a jabot—oh,” Edgeworth says, as Phoenix bites him in retaliation. “Yes, fine, go ahead.” He says it as if it’s some great sacrifice, but Phoenix can feel the twitch of Edgeworth’s cock against his leg and knows he’s full of shit.
He sinks his teeth in the unmarked skin and sucks, and Edgeworth jerks against him. Phoenix gives it his whole attention, barely paying attention to Edgeworth’s wandering hands. When he’s done he pulls back to admire his creation, the dark red spot blooming on Edgeworth’s pale neck, and he feels satisfaction course through him for the second time that night.
“There,” he says, proudly.
“Wright,” Edgeworth says, sounding like he’s trying to be annoyed and is failing quite badly at it. “Take your clothes off.”
Phoenix pulls back and does just that, stripping off his suit jacket and his shirt, shimmying out of his pants as Edgeworth does the same with his clothes. Edgeworth stands up to fold his, placing them carefully on the dresser, as Phoenix throws his off the side of the bed to lay slumped on the floor. Edgeworth takes a look at them with his nose turned up.
“Oh, shut up,” Phoenix says. “Come here.”
Edgeworth crawls onto the bed, and Phoenix grabs him by the face and pulls him into him. They kiss again; the lube lays on the mattress beside him, and Phoenix is acutely aware of it.
“Do you want anything first? Like a blow job, or something? You did for me last time—”
But Edgeworth shakes his head. “All I want is… you inside me,” he finishes quickly, like he’s ashamed of what he’s saying, and Phoenix’s entire body alights with the words. Miles Edgeworth talking dirty—give him more, please.
Phoenix grabs the lube and pours some on fingers, stopping when he looks down at where Edgeworth is splayed across the bed. “Uh, it’s been a really long time, so just, I don’t know, tell me if I’m hurting you, or anything?”
Edgeworth nods, dark eyes following each of Phoenix’s movements. He brings his hand down between Edgeworth’s legs, slowly sinking one finger inside.
They both stop, taking a breath. Phoenix is trying to grapple with the fact that he is inside Miles Edgeworth. It’s been quite a while since he’s been with a man—since college, before Dahlia—so he goes slowly, pumping one solo finger inside Edgeworth’s tight heat.
He goes slow, maybe too slow, judging from some of Edgeworth’s impatient sighs, but Phoenix wants to ensure he’s doing this properly. So he takes his time, makes sure Edgeworth is ready before he smears lube on his cock and lines up with Edgeworth’s hole. He looks up at Edgeworth, who meets his eyes.
“For God’s sake, Wright, I’m ready,” Edgeworth says, and Phoenix decides to take his word for it. He pushes in, slowly but steadily, eyes falling closed as heat envelops him. It feels better than he remembers, and he can’t hold back a moan as he bottoms out. Edgeworth takes a shaky breath, hands coming up to grip Phoenix’s biceps, blunt nails digging into the skin as he spreads his legs a little more, allowing Phoenix to get deeper. Phoenix pulls out slightly before he pushes back inside, a slow pace, each inch of his cock sinking inside Edgeworth’s willing body.
The pace is clearly too slow for Edgeworth, who makes an impatient noise and kicks his heels into Phoenix’s ass. “Go,” he says. “Harder.”
“You’re always bossy, huh?”
“Wright—”
Phoenix grins down at him and then snaps his hips. Edgeworth groans and tilts his head back, and Phoenix’s eyes zoom in on the mark he left, the one that will be hidden by Edgeworth’s neckwear. He’s going to have to go to work like that, and even though nobody else will know Edgeworth will, will remember the time Phoenix had sucked on his neck, will remember the way he’d fucked him every time he looks in the mirror. It sends excitement thrumming through Phoenix’s body, and he leans in to press his lips to the mark, a kiss that is far too gentle to hide the feelings Phoenix has been steadfastly ignoring this whole time.
Phoenix fucks him, hips thrusting at a steady rhythm, each snap of his hips pushing a little noise out of Edgeworth’s mouth. Phoenix commits them to memory, each groan and moan and gasp of pleasure, knows he’s going to relive them every time he puts a hand to his own cock, each sleepless night when he jerks off to try to fall asleep. He’s been ruined for anything else now. Edgeworth has ruined him.
Edgeworth ruined him a long time ago. Ever since he put his mouth on Phoenix, Phoenix has belonged to no one else, no matter how hard he tries to deny it.
He reaches a hand up to grasp Edgeworth’s cock. He hadn’t gotten to do anything with it last time, hadn’t even been able to touch him, so he does his best to appreciate it now. It’s hot and heavy in his hand, dripping pre-cum from the tip, and he fists it in time with his thrusts. Edgeworth’s eyes fly open and seek out Phoenix, and Phoenix sees his mouth form a single word.
Phoenix.
When Edgeworth comes he does so with a shout, coming apart beneath Phoenix’s hands, cum spurting from his cock and splashing on both his and Phoenix’s chests and a little on his hand. Phoenix moves his hand away and wipes it on the sheets beside Edgeworth’s head, fisting his hand in them as he seeks his own release. He pumps inside of Edgeworth with no real rhyme or reason, just searching for pleasure, hips desperate and eyes scrunched shut as he takes and takes from Edgeworth’s limp body.
Finally his orgasm crashes over him, and he pulls out of Edgeworth before he can forget and spills onto his stomach, groaning in pleasure. When it’s subsided he opens his eyes and finds Edgeworth’s, who is looking at him with a softness that is shut down as soon as he realizes Phoenix is looking back.
“I can forgive the cum on my stomach,” he says. “But don’t think for one moment I didn’t notice you wiping it on my sheets.”
Phoenix laughs, sitting back. “You are so…” he doesn’t even know how to end that sentence. There are so many possible words, not all of them bad. “Just ask them to change the sheets.”
“Surely they’ll know why.”
Phoenix collapses beside him on the bed, sides pressed up against each other. “Then I guess you’re sleeping on cum-stained sheets.”
Edgeworth is silent, and Phoenix is trying to figure out how to stave off the awkwardness when Edgeworth says, “If you are not opposed, perhaps… we could sleep on cum-stained sheets?”
It takes Phoenix a moment to understand what he’s saying, and when he does he turns his head to catch Edgeworth’s eye. “You asking me to stay?”
“I know what I did last time was wrong. I don’t want to run away again. So yes, Wright. I am asking you to stay.”
Phoenix considers this. “I’m still mad at you,” he says.
“As you should be.”
“But I… if you take the cum side, I’ll stay.”
“I…” for a moment he’s certain Edgeworth is going to say no, but he simply says, “Will lay down a towel then.”
Phoenix smiles. Maybe forgiveness is closer than he thought. He admires Edgeworth’s ass as he gets up to grab a towel and, presumably, wipe off his stomach, and when he comes back and gets into bed Phoenix turns into him and shoves his face in Edgeworth’s neck. Edgeworth wraps an arm around his back, and together the two of them simply breathe.
In the morning, Edgeworth is still there; Phoenix kisses him good morning and is promptly told to brush his teeth. The mark on his neck is a vivid purple, and Phoenix admires it with satisfaction. After borrowing a spare toothbrush (because of course Edgeworth carries more than one) Phoenix crawls into bed, caging Edgeworth with his arms, and kisses him again.
It takes them quite a long time to get out of bed that morning.