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As Phoenix knelt down and started to unbutton his pants, Miles began to think about how little time it had taken to completely turn around what had started out as a simple conversation.
In his sincerest intentions, Miles had gone to the Wright & Co law firm to talk. It had been a long day, a really long day. Exhausting, to be honest. Matt Engarde's trial had finally come to an end, but how could it have ended without a succession of twists and turns? "Promising young TV talent turns out to be the instigator of a murder", this is what he would have expected to find written in the newspapers at dawn the next day, followed by a "Brilliant defense lawyer condemning his own client. It would be better to think twice before hiring Phoenix Wright? Yours to say."
Miles however was the closest he got to being happy. Even though everything had started off on the wrong foot, in the end the truth had managed to make its way to the court. But above all, Miles was proud, because if justice had taken its course, the credit didn't belong to him alone. And that was exactly what he wanted to discuss with his renowned rival.
To be honest, they had already talked about it before. This actually cast doubt on his decision to go to Phoenix's. What if he didn't want to talk? After all, Phoenix had told that he had forgiven him for all his lies, but what if it was only a temporary forgiveness, due to the joy of having found Maya safe and sound and having sent a criminal to the hands of justice? He might well have had second thoughts, and Miles wouldn't have blamed him. But that evening, that evening he needed to be with someone, and that someone couldn't be anyone else but him.
And so, leaving the airport and the only person in the world he could still consider family behind, Miles headed to Wright's.
Along the way he tried to put every word of the conversation he had with Franziska out of his head. It hurt, too much to still think about. Instead he concentrated on what to say to Wright, on how to introduce himself to him without appearing like a desperate fool looking for a distraction. Yet he was. He was desperate. And maybe even a fool. But it wasn't relevant. Because that evening, nothing mattered. Only Phoenix Wright.
Standing there after knocking on the firm door, Miles couldn't help but feel like an absolute idiot. He almost hoped that no one would have opened the door. A part of him strongly suggested to leave before it was too late. He had to go back, praying no one had seen him, get into his red car and speed away. He had to go to his house, jump into bed and just forget about Phoenix, and how stupid he had been. How could he have thought going there was a good idea? He was really embarrassed. Who knows what Wright would have thought seeing him like this... like a...
But the door opened. Miles, paralyzed, motionless in front of Phoenix... Phoenix, with tired eyes, disheveled hair, loosened tie, shirt sleeves rolled up on his forearms, and an expression of unparalleled amazement on his face.
"E-Edgeworth?"
"You're here, Wright"
Phoenix was going through several emotional phases over the course of a few seconds. He looked confused, happy, angry, incredulous. But he smiled, awkwardly.
"You are here, Edgeworth. How…why?"
Miles shrugged, trying to look casual, as if his stomach hadn't tightened the moment that he saw Phoenix's face as he peeked out from behind the door.
"To be honest, I don't know. May I come in?"
Phoenix nodded, and stepped aside to let Miles into the study.
Miles' heart was beating so fast he almost feared Phoenix would hear it. He had never been as nervous as that evening. Yet he couldn't understand why. He almost never felt so agitated. Perhaps because, for the first time, they were alone. Whenever the two had interacted, they had always been surrounded by someone, whether it was a young spirit medium, a battered detective, or an unreliable witness. It was truly the first time.
"Are you the only one here?" he asked, already knowing the answer. There was no sign of Maya or Pearl. He should have felt better, right? Fewer people would witness his stupid appearance.
"Yes, after the banquet Maya and Pearl collapsed...literally. Gumshoe offered to take them home to repay me for buying him dinner, so I came here to fill out the final paperwork", Phoenix explained to him, confirming his hypothesis. "I would like to dismiss this case as soon as possible."
Miles thought so, and he couldn't blame him. And yet...he was there to talk about the case, wasn't he? Maybe it was better not to bring it up anymore. But what could he have said to Wright?
Since Edgeworth, absorbed in his reflections, was slow to speak, Phoenix broke the sudden silence.
"So..." he sighed. “How about we have a drink?”
Miles followed Phoenix's finger as he pointed to a bottle of some cheap alcoholic beverage sitting on a shelf. This wasn't a good idea, considering he had to drive home. But he didn't care. He was there to be with Phoenix, and he would stay no matter what. He didn't say anything, and when Phoenix offered him a drink, he downed it in one shot.
He almost immediately lost count of the glasses. How much could he have drunk? He wasn't sure. But he felt good. He felt really good. And Phoenix seemed so...close. So real. They were sitting side by side, in the dim light of the study, illuminated by the soft shine of the lamp. In front of them, an empty bottle of alcohol (not yet identified), and a new one opened. Phoenix was laughing at something Miles didn't even remember saying. His laugh was so genuine. Miles couldn't believe his own thoughts, but...Phoenix Wright had never been more attractive. Sure, he had always been a...handsome guy, but he had never reached such a high peak. It must have been the shining eyes, the red face, the bare forearms, so vigorous, so masculine... It must have been the alcohol. Yes, it was definitely the alcohol. He couldn't allow it to be anything else. He told himself he was drunk. He tried to really believe it.
He noticed that Phoenix had stopped laughing, and was looking at him with curious eyes. He blushed, afraid that his thoughts might have been picked up. He poured more liquid so as not to let him notice his embarrassment.
"Edge...Miles?"
"Mh?"
Phoenix hesitated, almost unsure what to say. Or how to put it. "Before...you said something. In fact, you said that you had to confess something to me...but what?". He laughed at his own words, aware and surrendered to his own state of cheerfulness.
What...what? Miles couldn't believe his ears. Confess? He didn't remember ever saying anything about it. To be fair, he was pretty sure he had never said that word. Was it...was Wright...bluffing? But what was his goal?
"Are you drunk?" he asked him. It couldn't be otherwise.
"No. Can you tell me?"
Edgeworth shook his head. “I have no idea what you're talking about, Wright.”
Phoenix leaned forward. "You know, you do! Something... feelings..."
Oh. Oh. Now he remembered. But...
"No. I don't know. Are you drunk?"
He leaned in again, closer and closer to his face, as if to show him that he wasn't intimidated by his refusal. Not at all. "No. Tell me."
"No. Are you drunk?"
"I'm not. Tell me!"
"I don't..."
Miles didn't have time to finish the sentence. Without any logical sense, without any reason, Phoenix Wright had definitively closed the distance between their faces, throwing himself onto Edgeworth's lips.
He didn't know what to do. He couldn't move. He couldn't understand. He couldn't process what was happening. But Phoenix's lips were so warm, so soft, and he had that smell of the alcohol they'd shared, sweet and tangy and...
Phoenix pulled away from him, just enough to separate their lips. Just enough for Miles to get back into it. "Now are you going to tell me?" he whispered.
"You're definitely drunk," Miles replied, and, without giving him time to say anything, he went back to savoring that sweet taste. He had to do it as quickly as possible, because if he didn't, reason would take over. And it was now too late to listen to logic. In any case, he thought, neither of them would remember any of it. He hoped.
He didn't know how, but they were suddenly standing up. It was clear that they both wanted to enjoy each other as much as possible, to bridge as much distance from each other as possible. And as Miles lost his breath pressing his face against Phoenix's, he found himself with his back against the wall and Wright's hands on the waistband of his trousers.
Phoenix separated from him again, this time enough to look him in the eyes. They were so big, so languid, so full of desire. Miles gave him a nod that could mean anything. He didn't care what he wanted to do to him. He just had to do it quickly.
So Wright knelt down and began to unbutton his pants, and without too many second thoughts, pulled Edgeworth's dick out. Phoenix surely knew what he was doing, and he did pretty well. Not that Miles had that much experience. He closed his eyes, trying to loose himself to Phoenix's touch. He did not dare to look. If it all was just a dream, he didn't want to be awakened.
When Phoenix finally took him in his mouth, Miles let go of a sound he'd never imagined he was able to emit. A sudden moan, that he didn't even tried to cover. There was a man under him that was sucking his dick. That was no time to be ashamedly modest. Miles threw his head back, feeling Phoenix's tounge movements. Phoenix's mouth was warm and wet, it was so skilled that Miles wondered if Wright had ever done that before. At least his mouth was not only good at bluffing.
Then he felt cold. He looked down, right into his eyes, and wished that Phoenix just restarted what he was doing just a moment before.
"You have to look at me" Phoenix stated. Alright, then. Miles nodded. Wright began to suck again, this time slowly, carefully. It was almost painful. Miles put his hands in Phoenix's dark hair, caressing it, helping Phoenix's head do the job, back and forth. Back and forth again. And this, added to Phoenix's whimpers, turned Miles on, even more. Phoenix started pacing up faster, going deeper, making Miles moan louder. In a state of pure unawareness, Miles pulled Phoenix even closer, whishing that he could just swallow him whole. He was about to give up. He was feeling dizzy, sweaty, burning; he just wanted to collapse on the ground. And as his legs began to shake, he arched his back. Even though he had tried not to, he came.
He expected Phoenix to pull out, but he didn't. Instead, he sucked until the very last drip of cum came out of Miles. Fucking hell. That man was always a surpise.
Miles reached Phoenix, still kneeling. He grabbed his cheeks and broght their lips together. He tasted himself, his flavour. And he felt so proud, because for this one time, Phoenix didn't have anything to say. Maybe he should've let Wright suck his dick before every trial.