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Elevators And Other Cruelties	By : BringtheHawt Category: +M through R > Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Views: 3021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the ace attorney franchise nor own any of the characters and am not trying to make any money off of this story.

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August 24th, 8:16 PM
Damon Gant's Home - The Master Bedroom
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Frustrated. Damon was very frustrated. He had Edgeworth so incredibly aroused, desperate. Damon had truly wanted to provide the gorgeous prosecutor the wild fuck he so clearly craved. This interruption was so unfortunate.
The police chief entered his bedroom to spy Marissa sitting in his armchair in the corner.
Of course, Marissa was smoking in his bedroom.
Of course.
"Disgusting habit," Gant commented, stepping toward her and plucking the cigarette from her lips, "never saw the allure in smoking. Makes one's mouth taste like shit."
"You're angry," Marissa declared.
"Coincidentally, you're infuriating," Damon muttered, taking the cigarette into his oversized bathroom to dispose of it.
Marissa smirked.
"Was Boytoy upset?" she inquired with false concern, "I do apologize. He was fairly handsome. Why not invite him up here to join us?"
"Oh, he was so impressed by your subtlety, charm and tact. I'm sure he'll eagerly accept such an invitation."
"You're irritable today."
"You were supposed to be here hours ago," he pointed out. Marissa: Always late, eternally imperious.
"I'm a busy woman."
"In that case, let's get to the point: Ushijima," Gant remained in the bathroom as he spoke to her, looking at himself in the mirror.
"Did he really kill that girl?"
"Unfortunately."
"He lied to me."
"A politician who lies? Say it isn't so," Gant muttered sarcastically.
"Gant, quit being a dick."
"Hmph," Damon snorted. Marissa was certainly lucky she was either a powerful ally or a ruthless enemy. It made the decision to keep her an ally slightly easier.
"how old was she?" she asked.
"Seventeen."
"What a mess," she sighed, "what was he thinking?"
"A crime of passion," Gant answered, eyeing his shoulder in the mirror, searching for evidence of Edgeworth's lustful bite earlier.
"I'm friends with his wife. Our children used to play together," Marissa muttered. It was actually rather difficult for her to think of Ushijima as a father, knowing he murdered a seventeen year-old girl so cruelly. While Marissa was certainly accustomed to corrupt politicians and criminals, this act seemed particularly despicable.
"Yes, I do lament for Akito," Gant revealed as he finally left the mirror to return to the bedroom, "Beautiful, elegant woman."
Marissa paused, musing over those words, watching Damon.
" ... Have you fucked her?"
Gant smirked, "I'll leave that to your imagination."
Marissa sighed, reaching into her clutch for another cigarette absent-mindedly. As she pulled out her pack of cigarettes, Gant's silent stare reminded her that she recently just had one removed from her mouth.
"Sorry. Instinct," as she returned the cigarettes to her clutch, "Will Ushijima be convicted?"
Gant mused over Miles' fiery fit at Tokyo's Metropolitan Government Building yesterday.
"Without a doubt, should he go to trial" Damon confirmed, "how does your husband feel about this situation?"
"We won't protect him."
That's exactly what Damon wanted to hear.
"Mind if I return to my party?" Really, though, Gant had lost interest in the social gathering ... he just needed to prevent Edgeworth from leaving. "I'd offer you an invitation to join us, but apparently you're a busy woman ... "
"Really? You're not going to tend to me?" She inquired haughtily.
Damon looked to her with that dangerously silent stare of his. The look made Marissa wary ... but still, she held her ground.
"I suppose I have time to teach you some manners," the police chief relented, moving to her. He gripped her throat, none-too-gently, and leaned down to kiss her.
As predicted, she tasted bitter. Gant felt as though he were licking an ashtray.
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August 24th, 8:47 PM
Damon Gant's Home - The Living Room
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Everyone was back inside Gant's home at this point. The party was thinning out, only about a dozen people remaining. Lance and Lana were sitting at the stools of Gant's mini-bar, chatting. A few of the pretty girls remained, an officer, another lawyer ... The pretty redhead who had been flirting with Phoenix earlier had disappeared.
It took Edgeworth, who was feeling particularly irritated and drunk at this point, a full minute to realize that Gumshoe and Wright had joined him in the corner. They were prattling on about a no-name trial Phoenix had recently won.
"Why are you two here?" He examined their casual attire ... it was very strange to see Wright in a polo and Gumshoe in a blue Hawaiian shirt. They didn't look right without their suit and trench coat, respectively.
" ... Thought you could use some company," Phoenix offered.
Miles took another sip of that wine. He needed to take a bottle of this wine home, should Gant have any left he'd spare.
"Where's that unfortunate little redhead that was flirting with you all night?"
"Heh. She left with another guy. Kinda happy about it, actually," Phoenix admitted. He certainly hadn't been opposed to the idea of getting laid ... but Rejected Redhead had been a little too wild, for his tastes.
"I see."
"Listen Edgeworth," Gumshoe interrupted, "I'm letting Phoenix finish his beer before we're taking off for the night ... - "
"-What? It isn't even nine yet ... What time do you work? Seven?" Phoenix whined.
"Ya but I like hitting the gym before work. Gotta, ya know, maintain all this muscle ... " He flexed his right arm, which did manage to catch Edgeworth's attention.
I've clearly drank too much ... Edgeworth decided as he mentally undressed the detective. Suddenly Miles was comparing Richard and Damon. Gumshoe was genuinely friendly, kind-hearted, simple, innocent ... Gant was a beast: complicated, manipulative and awfully seductive.
Then there was Lana. Who he had found himself occasionally thinking about throughout the night. Mysterious. Difficult. Beautiful.
The prosecutor briefly wondered if his rampant sexual frustrations were a result of Gant or the wine. Probably both. A make-out session with Damon and six glasses of wine made him want to fuck everybody, apparently.
Or had it been seven glasses?
"The working out has been paying off, Gumshoe," Edgeworth admitted.
"So it meets your ... standards?" The detective asked with a happy smile.
Phoenix's eyes narrowed, taking a big gulp of his beer. Was he really about to owe Gumshoe one-hundred bucks?
" ... Sure," Edgeworth responded, thinking his two companions were beginning to act incredibly odd. Gumshoe folded his arms across his chest, wearing a proud expression.
"Ya but ... arms are only like, 20% of the body," Phoenix estimated roughly, "Does the whole package, meet your standards?"
" ... What?!" Edgeworth growled, annoyed. Were they toying with him? He was not in the mood to be toyed with.
"Nevermind, nevermind," Gumshoe interjected, "the point of this conversation was, well, I offered to be designated driver for the night, and I'm driving Phoenix home. It'd be nothing to drop you off too, should you need a ride."
It was Gumshoe's kind way of saying: You're drunk as hell and really shouldn't drive yourself home ...
"I can even pick you up on my lunch break tomorrow and bring you back here to retrieve your car ... "
It wasn't a bad idea, really. But rather than being touched by the detective's soft-hearted concern, he found himself feeling irrationally insulted by it.
"I can take care of myself, thank you."
"Oh ya, I know but, I just wanted-"
"-I'm fine, detective," firmly.
"Ok, ok," Gumshoe stated, not wanting to upset the prosecutor any further, "Listen, you have my phone number. If you change your mind, just call. I don't care what time it is, I'll come back for ya."
The detective's kindness momentarily silenced Edgeworth. The prosecutor instantly regretted the angry tone he had just used on him.
"Thank you, Gumshoe," sincerely, "I'll be fine."
"Alright then," as the detective managed a big smile, "enjoy the rest of your night. Stay safe."
Recognizing the cue, the defense lawyer took one last sip of his beer.
"I had a fun time, Edgeworth. It was nice to see you outside of work," Phoenix declared before he and Gumshoe turned to leave.
"Wright ... " in a soft tone.
Both men turned to look back toward the suddenly somber prosecutor.
"My super power," Edgeworth murmured somberly, thinking of his dead father, thinking of the murdered victims of all the trials he's prosecuted, "I'd want the ability to bring the dead back to life."
Gumshoe's eyes softened sympathetically. Phoenix walked back to the prosecutor, patting his shoulder gently.
"I'm ... not surprised that you're the one that thought of a power specific to saving lives," Wright said, almost affectionately, "Are you sure you don't want us to drive you home?"
"I'm fine," he responded, looking away from the two.
Friendships were always an awkward arrangement for the prosecutor.
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August 24th, 8:59 PM
Damon Gant's Home - The Driveway
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"You like him," Phoenix accused as he and Gumshoe got into the detective's cheap car.
"Ya, he's a great friend," Gumshoe returned.
"No I mean ... really like him."
Gumshoe buckled up, deciding not to respond
"Maybe we shouldn't have stuck together all night-"
"-put your seatbelt on-"
"-It would have been funny if he thought we were a couple, or something," Phoenix decided, obeying.
"It's ok," Gumshoe reasoned, sounding a bit sad, starting the car, "I don't meet his standards anyway, right?"
Phoenix smiled nervously, "I didn't mean it like that ... "
"Oh, you also owe me one-hundred bucks."
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August 24th, 9:45 PM
Damon Gant's Home - The Living Room
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Gant is a bastard, Edgeworth decided as he glanced at the clock, and it's time to go home.
Though Miles really shouldn't drive. So leaving the party on his own wasn't an option.
He glanced about at the remaining party-goers ... there weren't many, but he turned optimistic when he spied Lana in the corner of the room chatting with that moderately-handsome politician that had sat beside her in the hot tub earlier. Lance, was it?
Edgeworth slowly stood upward and walked over to the pair.
"Lana," Edgeworth spoke loudly, blatantly interrupting Lance who was in the middle of speaking about a recent road trip he went on, "when your company is done boring you, I'd like you to drive me home."
Lance huffed, rightfully insulted by Miles' comment.
Lana aimed a measured stare at Edgeworth before relenting.
"After I finish my drink," she sighed, "now, go back to your corner."
"Very well, but ... do not allow me to change my mind," Miles spoke seriously, "I absolutely must go home this evening."
" ... I'll make sure you get home," Lana promised.
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August 24th, 10:05 PM
Damon Gant's Home - The Living Room
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The sight of Damon's return chilled Lana's blood.
Gant looked good, she decided warily. Like a predator. He wore a wrinkleless black dress shirt and khaki pants ... his hair was clean. Which means he must have showered. Which means he probably just fucked someone.
She thought to herself that if she were a good human being, Miles would have already been returned home. Instead, he was asleep in the corner of the room ... completely unaware that his fate rested in the hands of the manipulative police chief and the concerned chief prosecutor.
It was just the three of them, now. Everyone else had left.
Gant approached Lana at the minibar, flashing her a wink. She could smell his cologne.
"Did you enjoy your night?" he asked casually as he reached for a wine bottle.
"Your newest target asked me to take him home," Lana announced.
"Oh," Gant smiled, "he won't be going home."
"You can have your fun with him another night, Damon ... " she argued hesitantly.
"You're always the last person to leave these little parties of mine," Damon pointed out with that strange smile of his as he poured a glass half-full with that wine, "as though you expect to catch me performing some sort of dastardly act upon one of my guests."
Lana's expression darkened as she watched Gant pull out a small vial from his pocket.
"Tell me, Lana," the police chief continued as he popped the lid of the vial, "if you did catch me doing something despicable ... would you do anything about it?"
Then Gant began pouring the vial's powdered contents into the half-full glass of wine.
"What are you doing?!" she hissed, standing upward.
"Oh, settle down, Miss Skye. Just a simple aphrodisiac," Damon lied with a chuckle, "completely harmless. He'll be asking for more of it by the morning."
"I'm not letting you do this," Lana snapped, "I promised him I'd - "
" - How's your lovely sister?" Gant asked with a smug smirk, swishing the wineglass to hasten the drug's dispersion.
Lana adopted a distressed look as she went silent. Though being blackmailed for years was starting to truly torment her ... she could never allow her sister to go to jail for years ... even though this meant turning a blind eye to Gant's countless crimes.
"Would you care to join us, this evening?" Damon asked in a throaty tone, stepping close to her so he could slide his muscular arm around her slender waist, "it's been a while since I've last enjoyed you. I think I'd have to tie you up."
It was an offer Gant knew she'd never accept. An offer that was supposed to steer her from the truth. Let the female lawyer think he had lewd intentions for the evening.
" ... You're not going to hurt him, are you?"
"Of course not," Damon admonished playfully, "what sort of monster do you think I am?"
The heartless kind, Lana thought sadly as she glanced one last time at the motionless lawyer in the corner of the room, I'm sorry, Edgeworth ...
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August 24th, 10:15 PM
Damon Gant's Home - The Living Room
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A strong grip on Edgeworth's shoulder stirred him from his slumber.
"So. Lana told me you wish to go home."
Miles lifted his head upward to see Damon gazing down at him. Figures the police chief would show up after he had made up his mind to leave.
"Indeed," Edgeworth muttered bitterly as he shifted his posture, "you missed your opportunity."
"I'll drive you home," Damon offered, moving to stand in front of the lawyer.
"Lana is driving me." The silver-haired lawyer wasn't quite as articulate as usual. Verbally sluggish, even.
"Lana left," Damon announced casually.
Miles' eyes narrowed at the police chief. The prosecutor was quite annoyed Lana abandoned him, and though he had no proof, he assumed Damon had encouraged her to do so.
"I'll drive you home," Gant repeated, "though I should probably stop drinking before doing so. Mind finishing my wine?"
The police chief held the wineglass before a wary Edgeworth.
"You realize another glass of wine isn't going to convince me to stay?"
"I realize," Damon answered with a smile.
Miles took the glass, but did not drink from it. He was still sulking over the fact that Lana left without him. He didn't even look toward Damon when the larger man took a seat on the couch beside him.
There was a moment of silence as Damon observed the younger man - what a unique look Edgeworth had: smooth, pale skin and slate-colored hair. It certainly stirred his appetite. He found himself reaching a hand toward that neck to trace two fingertips across Edgeworth's flesh.
Miles shifted away, surprised by Gant's forwardness. He glanced about, trying to estimate how many party-goers would spy this sensually bold act ...
"Relax, Worthy," as Damon adjusted so he could lean close to the attractive lawyer, "there's no one left," and his fingers moved to grip the younger man's jaw so that he could force Miles to look at him.
"We're alone," Gant reiterated as he pressed forward to touch his lips against Edgeworth's. "just you ... and me."
"I'm not staying," Miles reminded ... but the act of speaking caused their lips to brush together. This was a dangerous proximity. And Gant smelled good. Clean. Masculine. Suddenly Edgeworth was asking himself if he truly wanted to leave.
"Hm. That's quite a pity," Damon sighed, pulling away from the visibly conflicted lawyer, smiling.
"You should ... consider it a miracle I even stayed this long," Miles declared as he tugged his eyes away from Damon and took a long sip of that wine.
Gant watched him quietly. Still smiling.
The silence permitted Edgeworth's thoughts to become bitter. They should be fucking. Right now. And they would be if that snobbish tramp hadn't shown up and interrupted them.
"I noticed you're clean," Miles muttered, "I assume you enjoyed your time with Marissa."
" ... I'll leave that to your imagination."
That answer did not please Edgeworth. In fact, it annoyed him. He finished the wine quickly.
"Let's go," Miles practically snarled as he abruptly stood upward, but the act earned him a fierce dose of dizziness. Perhaps he had drank too much?
I should sit back down ...
But before he could even act on this decision, there was that incredibly strong grip on his forearm.
"Easy now, Worthy," Gant murmured. A gentle tug was made ... causing Edgeworth to both drop his wineglass and stumble down on top of Damon's lap.
Something's wrong, Miles thought, unnerved, as he felt Damon's large hands reposition his body, something's wrong ...
But he couldn't figure out exactly what. It seemed he had lost focus along with his sense of balance because it was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate.
Damon chuckled softly as he finished adjusting Miles' body upon his lap, forcing the handsome lawyer to straddle him and lean into his chest. Damon moved his face so he was cheek-to-cheek with his drugged captive before easing a palm against Edgeworth' lower back ... After a moment of simply holding the softly breathing lawyer, his free hand slid beneath the rim of the weakening man's pants to cup that bare ass. He massaged that flesh ... smirking when he felt Miles' hand grab and grip tightly onto his dress-shirt.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Gant asked huskily. He could be speaking of the sedative, which certainly did have some aphrodisiac side effects, or the firm touching of that rump. Take your pick.
"What did you do ... "
"What if I told you that I have plans for you, Edgeworth?" Gant inquired, voice retaining that roughness as a wandering finger found the entrance to Miles' rear channel, "I do have plans. But this body of yours ... distracts me."
And that finger pressed inside that tight little hole. Damon snickered softly when he felt that hole clench on his intruding finger.
"Nearly unconscious and you still manage to squeeze me so tightly," Gant commented, wiggling his finger inside that body, "makes me want to jam inside you this very moment."
There were accusations Edgeworth wanted to make. But he felt dizzy and warm and his dick was hardening and he was dimly conscious of Damon's finger moving inside him. Miles shifted weakly, sighed quietly. He tried to maintain his grip on Gant's dress-shirt, for he irrationally believed he'd fall into a lightless pit if he let go.
"What's wrong, Miles?" Gant taunted jovially when he felt Miles' cheek press into his shoulder, "tired?"
"What ... did I ... did you ... "
"You're difficult to resist," Damon admitted as he nuzzled into soft strands of silver, "I was simply going to allow you to sleep, but, now that you're in my arms ... my resolve weakens," and he slid a second finger into that snug ring, "what have you done to me?"
Edgeworth emitted a soft moan. His body may be melting ... but he still could feel those two dry fingers moving inside him.
"I think we both know why you didn't leave, Worthy," Gant declared, now licking that pale neck before nuzzling into Miles' skin, "I can provide you your darkest desires."
"Damon ... " he called out softly, suddenly feeling very weak.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you're a bit masochistic. You clearly believe I'm a dangerous man, yet you stayed, for me," a small bite into that neck, "such an irrational attraction. Do you want me to hurt you ... ? Humiliate you? Just a little. Just enough to make you cum," and his lips moved to press his whispers into that ear, "whatever this body of yours craves, whatever makes you cry out my name, I'll give it to you, Miles."
"You ... " Edgeworth managed, almost too softly to hear. That breathing was slow, quiet. Damon leaned back to gaze at the silver-haired beauty. Those eyes were barely open, that body listless.
Gant smirked. He decided to let Miles drift unconscious with those words in his mind. He gave that ass two playful pumps with his fingers before pulling away. Then Damon again repositioned Edgeworth so that those strong arms snaked about that yielding form - one behind Miles' back, the other beneath those knees. With ease, he lifted the barely conscious prosecutor.
It was time to relocate to the bedroom.
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Author's Note: Thanks for everyone that left a comment! I do enjoy writing this story it's a nice break from my larger fics.
Thanks for reading! Happy thanksgiving if you celebrate it!
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Elevators And Other Cruelties