Manila | By : ladykasai Category: +M through R > Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Views: 3474 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Phoenix Wright’s office was small. No…that wasn’t the right
word. His office was minute.
His knuckles rapped sharply on the windowed door. The glass
was frosted with bold, black letters declaring the name of Phoenix T. Wright,
Defense Attorney. There were a few scratch marks and a ghost of the name Mia
Fey, the late lawyer holding the office prior to the upbeat rookie and his
various…assistants. He waited impatiently for a few minutes before knocking
quite soundly, noting with a small amount of satisfaction that there were now
noises of stirring from within.
He couldn’t blame them, really. It was 7:00 at night. He hadn’t really expected to be met by anybody,
and rather had planned to simply leave the folder under the door, but it seemed
as though his luck was intact. What—rather, who—greeted him,
however, was certainly a surprise.
“E-Edgeworth…? What are you…?”
“Hello, Wright.”
“I…it’s…why…”
“Clearly you are as eloquent outside of the courtroom as you
have demonstrated yourself to be within trial. May I come in?”
“Y-yeah, sure. Um, sorry it’s so
messy. I wasn’t exactly expecting anybody.”
The truth was, Miles Edgeworth could have simply given him
the folder at the door and made his way out on his own quite sufficiently.
However, he had held a certain curiosity about his rival from their first trial
together, and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see Wright in his natural
habitat. What he saw within the office, unfortunately, was no shock to him.
While it was obvious that Miss Fey had kept the office in utmost order, Phoenix
had had his way with the space. Papers were scattered haphazardly, dirty coffee
mugs sat, forgotten, on the desk… Edgeworth sighed. How anybody could produce
such fierce preparation for court in a veritable sty was beyond him.
“You left this in the lobby after the trial today. It isn’t
exactly…decisive evidence, per se, but you should be sure to take care not to
act so carelessly.” He waved the manila folder with an air of indifference.
“Oh! Uh, wow. Thank you. You can set it on the desk there. Coffee?”
It was clear to him that the defense attorney was out of his
element having his rival in the office. Phoenix was hastily fumbling with the
coffee maker, cursing quietly as it seemed determined to thwart his efforts to
entertain. Truth be told, Edgeworth was much more of a tea man, but he was
enjoying the discomfort he caused the other attorney. It was frustrating to him
that Wright’s luck drove him to win cases with a confident visage.
Phoenix was dressed in a simple pair of gray sweatpants and
white socks that were twisted on his feet. The man’s hair was mildly
disheveled, causing a few wan spikes to fall alongside his face. It framed his
complexion nicely, and Edgeworth briefly considered commenting on it before
dismissing the notion. Although he did enjoy bringing out the bumbling fool
hiding within Wright, he didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.
Edgeworth was not there with the intention to make a new friend.
A few graceful steps carried him to the couch. It was an
interesting piece of work, as it didn’t quite match the contemporary décor of
the rest of the office. The frame was of fine mahogany, though the nicks and
scratches marring the grain proved that it had certainly seen better times. The
couch was finished with black leather and seemed as though it might fold out
into a futon, and the small assortment of laundry kicked underneath, as well as
the pair of glasses and assorted toiletries collected on the side table, spoke
volumes as to what the couch was used for. He sat gingerly, absently running
his fingers over the arm rest. Surely Wright didn’t…didn’t sleep here?
Two mugs of coffee were set on the side table (next to the
toothbrush, behind the glasses) and Phoenix flopped onto the couch next to
Edgeworth. His limbs spilled comfortably across the black surface and he
inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. It seemed as though waiting for the coffee to
brew had allowed him a bit of time to regain his composure, and this displeased
the prosecution. It was clear that he had awoken the man from a sound nap, and
he decided to use it to his advantage.
“Wright.”
The man jumped. “Yeah?”
“Surely your salary provides adequate resources to live elsewhere than your office?”
Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, well, I
wasn’t actually paid for Larry’s or Mia’s defense, and
I missed my rent twice because of it. My landlord was really mad about it, so I
moved my couch here and sold most of the rest.” He threw his arm casually over
the back of the couch and shrugged. “It isn’t so bad. Besides, with the fight
you put up in court, I probably would have had to start sleeping here anyway.”
Edgeworth narrowed his eyes at his rival. It was a
compliment, he supposed, and a bit of a relief that Wright’s big breaks in
court weren’t entirely the result of dumb luck. His eyes traveled down the
defense attorney’s body, scrutinizing the man. He was muscular, but not overly
so. His suit and tie made him seem a lot bigger. He snorted.
“Er, Edgeworth?”
Phoenix was squirming. He realized that his gaze had made
the man quite nervous, and he smirked, driving his intimidation home. “Yes, Wright?”
“Well, I don’t mean to be rude, but uh, why…why are you
here?”
“Am I making you…uncomfortable?”
The response was immediate. “No!” And then, bashful: “Er, well, I mean, I’m kind of glad for the company. You
just never seemed to be the, ah, well… The um—“
“Company type?”
“Er, yeah, heh.”
He made a show of getting comfortable. He hadn’t intended to
stay for this long, but although he wouldn’t admit it, he was, in fact,
enjoying the other man’s presence. He liked Wright, was often jealous of his
spark. His troubled past had formed him into a man uncomfortable with close
relationships, but it wasn’t to say that he didn’t want at least a few. He
supposed he could call Detective Gumshoe an acquaintance. There seemed to be…potential
here, however. He wondered if forging a tentative friendship (something more?) with
his biggest rival was a good idea.
“Perhaps not. However, we are only
human, Wright, no matter what kind of robot you might think I am.”
Phoenix chuckled, then. It was a deep, warm sound, and
Edgeworth found himself drawn to the comforting noise. He watched as the
defense shook his head and grabbed the two coffee mugs. “Robot?
You think of the strangest things sometimes. Here, your coffee is getting
cold.”
The mug was lukewarm and contained black coffee. A whiff of
it made his sinuses tingle, and while Wright was content to chug the bitter
beverage, Edgeworth set his on the floor, out of the way. “Perhaps I was wrong
to listen to the gossip, then. After all, rumors are just rumors, I suppose.”
Phoenix was trying particularly hard to contain his mirth,
but the flush on his cheeks and his quaking shoulders told otherwise.
“What are you
laughing at, Wright?”
“You could be the Steel Attorney!”
“…”
“And I’ll be the Evil Defense, thwarting you at every turn!”
Edgeworth stared at him in disbelief.
“Aw, come on. Not even a tiny smirk? A smirklette?”
“A…a what?”
Phoenix pivoted easily, his pajama pants providing no
resistance against the leather of the couch. His head landed neatly in Edgeworth’s lap, causing the man to visibly tense, and the
dark-haired man slid into an easy grin. “You know, Worthy, you really should loosen up once in a while. It might do
your health some good.”
“I’ll have you know, Phoenix Wright, that I am quite sufficiently loose.”
Another snort of laughter erupted from the rookie lawyer.
“Oh, believe me, the rumors have that pretty well
covered too.”
“What are you talking about, Wright?” Edgeworth’s
tone could have frozen the sun solid.
Apparently, Phoenix noticed this. His body tensed
immediately and his eyes widened as he realized his mistake. “Well, that is, I
mean, you’re an attractive guy, and all. It’s only natural that—“
“Attractive, Wright?” A comfortable
smirk curved his lips. Now this was an interesting development, indeed.
Naturally, the man could have simply been repeating what he’d heard, but
Edgeworth didn’t think so. His gut told him otherwise. “Is that so?”
Phoenix sat upright hastily. So much so, in fact, that he
nearly head butted Edgeworth, who had been looking down on him in amusement. He
kept his back to the prosecution attorney and stuttered for a minute, before
settling on, “Well, you know very well that you’re not unattractive,
Edgeworth.”
It was true, he pondered. Even since grade school he had
been the target of affections from both genders, but he had never paid them
much mind. He’d never had the time or interest to devote to a relationship of
sorts, and he was quite sure that von Karma wouldn’t have approved, anyway. All
of that aside, however, he was intrigued by Wright. Making a bold decision and hoping
the other man’s erratic movements might calm down as a result, Edgeworth
reached over and gripped his rival on the shoulder before gently tugging him backwards.
When Phoenix landed back onto the prosecution’s lap, his
joyful expression was gone. Instead, his face was taut with reprimand, and
Edgeworth could only imagine the thoughts flying through his head. “You know, I
can actually hear you tying yourself into knots, Wright.”
“I’m sorry, Edgeworth. I’m sure that comment was pretty out
of line.”
“No matter. It’s rather refreshing
to hear an innocent compliment.” He tugged lightly at his cravat to attempt to
put Phoenix at ease. “After all, from what I hear, I seem to be a bit of an
abomination lately.”
“Yeah, well, they’re all full of it.” Phoenix folded his
arms and glared at Edgeworth, though it contained no hostility. There was a
comfortable silence as both men looked at their surroundings before the
prosecution attorney felt a light pull at his neck.
“What—what are you doing, Wright?”
“Hold still.” Clumsy fingers pulled awkwardly at his cravat
until it loosened, then removed the small cloth from his shirt. A quick flick
flung it to the floor, and Edgeworth found himself under great scrutiny. “How
come you wear that thing so much?”
“…”
Phoenix ran his thumb over Edgeworth’s
pulse. “It makes you look stuffy. You should try a turtleneck or something if
you want your neck to be covered.”
“You do think I’m
attractive.”
“Er! Well… I, ah, yes. I guess, I
mean, I won’t—“
“Shut up, Wright.” Silence. “I’m
not going to attack you up for saying that you’re attracted to me. You’re not
the first, and I sincerely doubt that you will be the last.” He shook his bangs
from his eyes and looked down at a speechless Phoenix Wright. “Isn’t the fact
that you’re currently settled on my lap evidence enough for you?” He leaned in
closer and narrowed his eyes. “Or do you have an objection?”
Edgeworth noticed that Phoenix had his thinking face on. He
got that face right before his big break in a trial, when he tied all of the
seemingly loose ends together in a tidy bow. The defense attorney’s chest rose
as he inhaled deeply, and Edgeworth noticed once more that the man was
bare-chested. As he was admiring the smaller man’s light tan, however, an
opportunity to slip fingers into the hair on the back of his head was seized.
“Wri—mmmph!”
Phoenix kissed him. And it wasn’t just a peck, either. It
was an honest to god, full-lipped, teeth nibbling, masculine,
delicious kiss.
They parted with a wet noise and both of them gasped
quietly. He hadn’t closed his eyes, was too shocked by the sheer impossibility
of the situation—not that Phoenix had kissed him, but that for a moment there,
he had enjoyed it—but Phoenix had. In
fact, his eyes were still closed, and
his chest was heaving. There was a slight sheen across his lower lip; his jaw
was slack with awe. All in all, Edgeworth would have testified that the man was
the very embodiment of “satisfied”.
“I…don’t have any evidence to base an objection on, I’m
afraid.” Dark blue eyes gazed up at him with mild trepidation. “But I will say
that I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”
Edgeworth didn’t say anything. What could he say? Thanks, Wright, but I’ve had better? He hadn’t. He’d
never kissed anybody before. Although he felt rather desperate to shove the man
off of him and go back to his apartment, he also found himself wanting to
experience that kiss again. And again.
Oh, you tightassed bastard. It’s about time you do something for
yourself once in a while.
Edgeworth leaned down and, feeling awkward for the first
time in a great number of years, paused before he made contact. “Perhaps, then,
you should do it again.”
“E-excuse me?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Mr. Wright.”
Once Phoenix got over his initial shock, he spared no time
crushing his lips against his rival’s. The kiss was fevered, though Edgeworth
was making what he was sure were awkward attempts. His back was beginning to
hurt from the awkward angle, but he paid it no mind. His brain was scrambled
between figuring out why on Earth he was doing this and whether it was right
and what would the office say and God Phoenix was hot and the kisses felt so
good but seriously—
“Miles…” It was a whisper. He barely felt it brush against
his swollen lip, but it deafened him. He hadn’t been called his first name
since his father was alive, and the tone that the heated defense attorney used
was like a sick serum that made his body shiver violently. “Are you alright…?
You’re trembling.” Phoenix turned, then, and leaned on his elbow. His eyes were
wide and innocent, and for once, Edgeworth found himself without a retort. “You
know, you don’t have to. I never expected to—“
“Wright,” though his mouth was electric, he managed to bark
the name of the man beside him, “I’m…not good with these kinds of things.” He
fisted the vibrant material of his suit pants. “If you’re going to do it, just
do it and spare me the small talk.” A wince nearly made its way to his face at
how harsh the words sounded, even for him, but damn it, he was completely out
of his element, here!
To his relief, Phoenix chuckled lightly and twisted a
section of silvery bangs. “Miles Edgeworth, you are positively the most
unbreakable man I have ever met.” The tables had turned, much to his dismay,
and now Wright was the confident one. Were he honest with himself, he might
have admitted that he was grateful for the other man’s bravado. Although he
would have liked to be in control, he was like a fish out of water (or an
attorney out of trial, he mused), and so when Phoenix cupped his chin and
guided his body to stretch across the couch, he complied.
The defense attorney was predictably gentle. It was obvious
that the man had a genuine desire to help and comfort others, though he often
did so through comically fumbled words and exaggerated actions. Though his
touch was soft, it left liquid fire in its wake, and Edgeworth was briefly
concerned that he would begin to smell foul from sweating in his treasured
suit.
His cravat was gone already, and thus the defense paid close
attention to the shirt underneath, making short work of the pearly buttons
keeping it fastened. A few solid tugs brought it from its final confines of a
tight waistband and both the shirt and jacket were discarded onto the floor. On
display now, Edgeworth fought a blush. He had never bared much flesh to anybody
save for von Karma, and even then it was from the waste up and to a seasoned
old man. Phoenix was looking at his body as if to devour it, and although he
was flattered, he felt a strong urge to roll onto his stomach and cover
himself.
“M-m… Edg—You’re…
wow.”
Feigning confidence, he stretched his arms above his head
and smirked. Though his stomach was quite upside down, thank you, he hadn’t
been a prosecution attorney for nothing. Bluffs were something he mastered for
a living. “What was that, Wright?”
“You should be a model. A statue. A painting.” Phoenix ran his fingers delicately across an
alabaster collarbone. His touch was akin to that of a butterfly’s wing brushing
against a child’s hand, and for a moment, the blue-eyed attorney looked as if
he were going to bolt. “I can’t believe I’m
doing this.”
“Mm. Perhaps you should take advantage, then, instead of
stumbling through your words.” His heart was pounding.
Phoenix’s hands were strong and lightly calloused, the
result of what Edgeworth could only assume were sports throughout schooling. He
realized then that he knew next to nothing about the other man, but his thoughts
were scattered once more when a thumb brushed gently against an unsuspecting
nipple. He grunted and arched, drawing his brows together at the unfamiliar
feeling, but needing more of it. Was this what he had been missing out on?
A set of plump lips caught his again, and he darted at them,
wanting to taste the innocence of Phoenix Wright.
The innocence of Phoenix Wright tasted like cheap coffee and
cigarettes.
Strangely enough, it didn’t bother him at all.
Hands were everywhere. His own were somewhere on Phoenix’s
body, clutching at warm flesh and working on autopilot. The lights of the city
snuck in between the blinds and hit them both, drawing thick lines of shadow
across boyish muscle. Neither of them had ever been very broad, always
remaining on the slender side of boyhood, but he took a small amount of
pleasure in the fact that he had just a bit more body mass than his opponent.
Phoenix’s skin was taut and delicious, and though he felt
like he was clumsy and fumbling, he stretched to press a few wet kisses against
the pulsing neck that was bared to him. Everything was moving, heated, real, and he felt close and confined,
but welcomed. It was unlike anything he had ever imagined he’d feel, much less
with the very man in his arms.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought his pants could feel quite
so tight, either.
“Wright,” he gasped, feeling irritated with himself, “my
pants—“
He would have marveled at the other man for such fluid
movements, hands pressing into the dips and few curves of his chest before
sliding to his belly to unbutton his pants. However, a very hot, very slick mouth had closed in on his right
nipple and began to suck lightly, and he was left with the single thought that
if he opened his mouth to say much more, what little air was left in his lungs
would leave him. Unfortunately, he gasped loudly anyway, and fisted the thick,
soft mass of hair crowning Phoenix’s head.
A deep chuckle forced a few small puffs of air across his
now budded, tight flesh, and he gritted his teeth, attempting to come down to
reality and compose himself. “Bikini briefs, Edgeworth? Really?”
His eyes shot southward and a very deep blush crept onto his
cheekbones. He didn’t know quite what to say. He didn’t know quite how Wright
had made such quick work of his pants—where were his shoes?!
Phoenix drew himself upward and put his hands on his hips,
and he reminded Edgeworth of a tomcat trying to impress. “The defense approves
of this unexpected evidence!” His voice was comically deep and his face was
over-serious.
It caught Edgeworth off guard, and for a moment, he
chuckled. “Evidence of what, exactly?”
The playful attorney slung a pale leg over his shoulder and smooshed his face into a hairless thigh. Wide ocean eyes
playfully met his from under deceptively innocent brows, and through his
awkward shock, he felt a bit of amusement and awe bubbling from his gut. “Why,
evidence of the prosecution’s rather…constricted
lifestyle, of course. The defense proposes that the prosecution should party a
bit more.”
“What?!”
Phoenix ignored him. Instead, he began brushing light kisses
over the smooth skin presented to him. Edgeworth then realized that in an
unfortunate set of circumstances, his amusement and awe were not, in fact,
because he happened to find Phoenix Wright to be a very handsome man, but
because his thighs were apparently very, very ticklish. His pride drove him to
fight the urge to squirm, but once his rival reached the groove between thigh
and groin, his body jerked violently and he stifled a laugh.
“Edgeworth?” The hands and mouth on his body and all of
their ridiculous torture had stopped completely. Phoenix had mistaken his
actions for those of reluctance.
“I, er…” He scowled and attempted
to curdle the paint on the far wall. “It appears as though I am a bit…” he
couldn’t believe he was about to say
this, “…ticklish.”
The room was pregnant with silence. He chanced a small
glance in the opposing attorney’s direction.
Phoenix was staring at him.
And he was thankfully withholding his hysterics.
“You can’t be
serious. You can’t be!”
“Exploit it and I’ll have your head, Wright.”
“Oh, believe me, Edgeworth. There are many other things that
I’d rather exploit right now.”
“What? What are you—ooh!” His groan caught in his throat as
what seemed to be an expert hand glided easily over the line of his manhood.
Instead, he gaped at the ceiling, feeling his chest heave with the sudden
assault to his body. “Phoenix!”
Though the dark-haired man was secretly thrilled by the
sound of his first name, he didn’t pause in his handiwork. Miles Edgeworth was
positively godly, and by some stroke of sheer genius luck, he was all for the
taking. The man smelled like detergent and sweat and musk, and it was obvious
to him that although Edgeworth was clearly enjoying himself, Phoenix had caught
him off guard. If he stopped now, the man might regain his composure and slip
back into his everyday self. If that happened, Phoenix was sure he wouldn’t get
this opportunity again.
A few delicate fingers gripped the back of his neck as he
spread kisses across a dampened abdomen. He had no idea where this confidence
had come from—perhaps it was that Edgeworth had finally relaxed a little, and he didn’t feel quite so intimidated.
Whatever it was, combined with the movements of the body beneath him, it was
delectably empowering. He slipped his fingers into the only thing between him
and his goal, but a harsh whisper stopped him.
“Wright.” Edgeworth propped himself
on his elbows and looked at the man pinning him to the couch. Phoenix was
struck dumb by the spectacle, and a slow, easy smile slipped onto the
sweat-slicked face of the prosecutor. “This is hardly fair, wouldn’t you
agree?”
“Er…what?
What’s wrong?”
“Clearly this situation is a bit…one-sided.” He retrieved
his leg from its support, flexing his toes to get blood flowing to them once
more. Placing his hands on rippling shoulders, he applied a bit of pressure,
feeling his familiar confidence return to him once more. Running with it, he
continued until Phoenix was forced to swing his legs underneath the advancing
attorney, and soon, Edgeworth had him pinned. “I believe it’s my turn to have
my way with you.”
“You’re like a predator.”
“A predator? Perhaps.
When presented with such an effortless hunt, what else am I to do?” He could
feel the evidence of Phoenix’s advances beneath him, and although it was a
foreign presence, he found it rather encouraging. An experimental thrust presented
him with a boneless lawyer, and he smirked. For once, he was having a great
deal of fun.
He leaned over his opponent and nibbled lightly at an ear
lobe. Easier access followed immediately as Phoenix’s head lolled away from
him, and for a moment, he was unsure of how to continue.
A small grin consoled him. If there were anything that the
defense attorney could do effortlessly, it was smiling. He was always, always
smiling. “You can start with my neck. It’s pretty sensitive.”
He snorted. He was always offering assistance, too, no
matter how much Edgeworth refused it. Although he was moderately grateful for
it now, he still wouldn’t admit it. He’d never hear the end of it.
Instead, he tentatively pressed his lips against the curve
of Phoenix’s neck, relishing the heat of the man’s skin. Edgeworth’s
life had been cold, especially so after his father’s death, and this new
feeling of impossible heat against his entire body was almost dizzying. His
actions snowballed, graduating from shy touches to fervent grasping and rough
kisses. Phoenix’s body responded marvelously, arching and twisting beneath his own.
His fingers clenched clumsily into the waistband of the attorney’s sweatpants,
and he tugged at them in frustration.
Warm (everything about Phoenix was warm, he noticed)
laughter sounded from beneath him. “You might have better luck if you tug down instead of out.”
“I can handle myself quite well, Wright. You’ll do well to
remember it.”
“Mmhm.”
Phoenix laced his fingers behind his head and watched Edgeworth contentedly. He
knew that his sweatpants did nothing to hide his obvious desire for the
prosecutor, but he had yet to have his arms broken for his advances, so he
relaxed a bit. His pajamas were slid gracefully from his body and he suppressed
another laugh at the look on his newfound lover’s face. If he never saw
anything again, he’d be grateful to remember that face.
“You—you’re not—you don’t have…!”
“Underwear?”
“Wright!”
“Right,” he echoed mirthfully. “You did wake me up, after all. Or do you sleep in,” he tugged playfully
at the elastic of Edgeworth’s undies,
“these?”
Edgeworth sputtered indignantly. Certainly, biologically, it
was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but when presented with… And expected to…?
“Here.” Confident once more,
Phoenix gently snagged one of Edgeworth’s wrists and
used it to guide him into a slow kiss. He grunted quietly as his erection was
caught between their bodies, but knew that he had to tread lightly lest he
screw this one up. “It’s alright. I’ll show you.”
Two thumbs hooked into a pair of briefs and made short work
of them, depositing them onto the floor in a lackadaisical manner. He sat up,
bracing his back against the cool armrest of the couch, and pulled Edgeworth
onto his lap. Taking a slender hand in his own, he
placed it onto his swollen member and squeezed lightly, gasping at the feeling
of a foreign hand. An expert hand guided the novice, repeating motions known
far too well for his taste. Soon, when he felt little resistance, he let go and
leaned back, enjoying the contact.
It was obvious how Edgeworth adapted so quickly in turnabout
trials. He was a very, very fast learner.
He moaned a bit in encouragement and reached forward,
himself, reciprocating in a similar fashion. Edgeworth’s
rhythm faltered a bit as he bucked gently, and Phoenix teased him for a few
moments before increasing his pressure, delighting in the lack of restraint the
prosecutor was displaying. It was rare and delicious, and he fought to keep his
eyes open if only to memorize the sight. “M-Miles, I…”
The man grunted. “What is it, Wright?” His voice was gruff.
“Can… Can I—“
“I told you to spare me the small talk, Wright.”
The defense attorney groaned. Supporting the fair-skinned
man with strong hands at his back, Phoenix scooped him up and laid him on the
floor. Two chiseled calves hugged his neck as he slipped two fingers into his
mouth, and he considered putting on a brief show for the man beneath him, but
realized that it would probably only embarrass them both. Thinking better of
it, he quickly slicked his fingers and slipped one into the body of Miles
Edgeworth.
“N-ngh!
What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I can’t just go straight for it. You’d be in agony,
Edgeworth.” A sharp turn of his index finger resulted in a delicious squirm,
and he added a second finger when he thought the other attorney wouldn’t
notice.
“Who—who’s to say I wouldn’t—ah!—enjoy it?”
A delicate brow rose high on Phoenix’s forehead. His fingers
didn’t stop moving, didn’t pause in their stretching, but his entire body damn
near shut down regardless. The urge to plunge deep inside the blistering, velvety
body on display for him was almost overpowering, but he wanted to do this
right. He wanted to cause the man as little pain as possible, because God knows
Edgeworth had had plenty already.
“God, Edgeworth. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
A stern nod confirmed what was already physically evident to
him.
With no more left to be said, Phoenix spit indelicately into
the palm of his hand and guided his fist over his arousal. He paused to meet
the gaze of his opponent before sliding slowly into bliss.
Edgeworth hissed sharply, relishing the peculiar combination
of pleasure and pain. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about being in such a
vulnerable position, but if they both played their cards right, he might be
able to pay Wright back for his…generosity. He also considered retracting his
statement about imagining Phoenix to be bigger, but dismissed it as something
forbidden pressed against the inside of him in unspeakable ways. He felt giddy,
like laughing and growling at the same time, and braced himself against the
flexed arms that trapped him.
Phoenix was concentrating, though on what, Edgeworth wasn’t
sure. He didn’t care. Phoenix’s thrusts had picked up in speed and force, each successive
more delicious than those prior, and he used the leverage he got from his grip
to thrust upward, meeting his rival halfway. It was rough and painful and sexy
and exciting all at once, and he allowed his head to fall backward. His body
felt like it was on fire, and he knew that neither of them was going to last
long.
The sheen glistening across Phoenix’s chest confirmed his
assumptions, and the man bit down hard on his bottom lip. Edgeworth refused to
finish first, though it was going to be difficult unless he helped things along
a bit. Smirking and panting, he let go of the smooth muscle at his palms and imitated
Wright’s earlier actions.
When his thumbs hit copper flesh, Phoenix cried out, and,
fueled by the sound, Edgeworth took it a step further by rolling the tiny buds between
his fingers.
“M—m—oh god!” Phoenix gripped
tightly onto one of the prosecutor’s thighs as he came with a strained groan.
His other hand found its way to Edgeworth’s erection,
pumping it in time with his hilt-deep thrusts. His last-ditch efforts were dutifully
rewarded as the light-haired man’s upper lip curled tightly. The defense gasped
as he was pulled into a fierce embrace and gave one last push, filling the
trembling body beneath him as Edgeworth finished hard.
For longer than the prosecutor would care to admit, he was
content to simply lay and enjoy the close contact of his biggest rival. Phoenix
had slipped from his body at some point and they sprawled comfortably, both
pressing their backs into the scratchy office carpet for hope of some relief
from the stifling heat they had produced. They were pressed together at the
hip, and he would have been content to fall asleep like that, if it had been
somewhere more appropriate than Phoenix Wright’s bedroom office.
However, the easy quiet was disturbed eventually as the
breathing of his fellow attorney hitched uncomfortably ,
and although it was subtle, Edgeworth’s senses had
long since been honed to notice even the most minute detail in his opponents’
reactions. “Problems, Wright?”
“I…It’s nothing, Edgeworth.”
He rolled onto his side to examine the man. Phoenix was
staring hard at the ceiling, no longer the loose, comfortable man he had been
mere minutes ago. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.” He took the liberty of
running a fingertip over a few ribs. “You’d never make it in prosecution.”
“Is this it?”
“Hm?”
“This. With you. I…I don’t want—“
“Wright.” He slid into a
comfortable arrogance. Though he could guarantee a veritable war within his own
mind, especially concerning…well, everything, he knew that he wasn’t simply
going to give up the opportunity that he had been given. It was certainly
unexpected, and more than peculiar, but Miles was a fluid man, contrary to
popular belief. It was in his nature as a lawyer. Forcing his body to move from
where it had settled languidly onto the floor, he covered Phoenix’s body with
his own and allowed the man a rare smile. “I am not a stupid man, Phoenix. I…like
this. And I believe you owe me a bit of reciprocation, anyway, as not many have
been able to find me in such a weak position. I expect my debts to be repaid,
Mr. Wright. In full.”
Phoenix’s relief was nearly tangible. Edgeworth expected
(and dreaded) something flowery after that, as Wright seemed the perfect type
for cuddling and sweet talk, but he was surprised when he was pushed aside. The
defense rose, then, and after haphazardly running a tissue over his stomach a
few times, pulled a thick comforter from a small cupboard beside the couch. He tossed
the box of tissues to Edgeworth, then, and made his way to the makeshift bed as
the fairer of the two paid much more attention to making himself presentable.
Phoenix oozed onto the couch, and his easy spill across the black leather was
displayed for his rival once more before it was covered in soft fabric.
Edgeworth frowned, confused. Not only was he just very
rudely pushed aside, but here was a bit of a problem with this situation,
namely in the form of a spunky young woman.
“Your assistant—“
“—doesn’t have a key. It’s Friday,
you’re heavy, c’mere.” A corner of the comforter was
lifted invitingly, and Phoenix’s usual smile twinkled at him in the dark.
“You’re positively insane, Wright.” His limbs refused to
cooperate gracefully, but he made it to the other man’s embrace without any
major consequences. A strong arm and a plush blanket curled around him
protectively, and he settled in with a content sigh. Phoenix chuckled behind
him.
“It’s one of my best features.”
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