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One of Every Color	By : Croik Category: +M through R > Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Views: 5688 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney / Gyakuten Saiban, its
characters and settings, are property of Capcom, and are being used here
without permission.� This fic is rated
NC-17 for adult male/male content and some violent material.� C&C welcome and appreciated.

One of Every Color
Chapter 7
Thursday
September 19^th, 2019.�
7:02 am

Miles sighed.� There was no use fighting it--he was
awake.� With the day off he had intended
to sleep in for once, and rekindle his energy from the exhaustion of the past
day's events.� But the air in his bedroom
was thick, warm, and uncomfortable, and whenever he closed his eyes for too
long he felt as if it were crowding in on him.�
Suffocating, even.� Kicking the
sheets to the foot of the bed hadn't helped.�
Not even Pess' subtle weight at his side was comfort enough to push back
the anxieties circling his mind.

He had learned a long time
ago that anticipation of the nightmare was often as effective as the dream
itself.

Miles lay awake for several
minutes after accepting this fact, idly stroking Pess' back as he slept, until finally
glancing at the clock.� He had spent
several hours working after Phoenix
left the night before, and found his way to bed much later than usual. �But maybe he had managed to get at least some sleep.

The angular red display
showed 7:02.� He had slept
for just over ninety minutes.

"It's enough,"
Miles concluded.� He gave his dog one
last pat and climbed out of bed.

A cool morning shower was
just what Miles needed to wake him fully and clear the thin layer of sweat from
his body.� He took his time in what was
usually a quick morning routine, which kept him from worrying about the myriad
of problems facing him.� But as soon as
he was downstairs, preparing what was sure to be the first of many cups of
coffee that day, all his concerns came rushing back.� There were still insurance forms that needed
to be signed, cases and their evidence to be reviewed, not to mention the
particular issue of Phoenix's very inconvenient timing.� It wouldn't be the first appeal Miles had
been forced to handle, but this case was different, even without taking into
account Phoenix's involvement.

He remembered Chassie
Gander.� After the confusion of the SL-9
case only a few months previous, public opinion of the police was still rather
low, and both departments were eager to solve a large case.� Putting a known mob accomplice behind bars
had been a perfect opportunity for everyone, and especially for the advancement
of Miles' own career.� It had even helped
stall the rumors of his unethical practices, since none of the viable evidence
in the case could have reasonably been forged.

And now Phoenix was trying to undo all that.� He knew, objectively, that he couldn't blame
his old friend for it.� But the mixing of
business with his personal life was not a problem he had often faced before,
considering his almost total lack of relationships until more recently.� So far he wasn't handling it very well.

You shouldn't have kicked him out, Miles told himself as he peeled an orange to go with
his breakfast.� He was only telling the truth.�
He sank into a chair at the kitchen table.� But he
could have said something sooner.� He was
here drinking with you, and didn�t say a word!�
He could have given some warning.

Miles abruptly lost interest
in the orange and set it aside, though he kept a piece of the skin to worry
between his fingers.� What am I going to do about you, Wright?� He sighed.�
He had to admit to himself that Phoenix had been one of the more prominent reasons for
returning home after so much time overseas.�
He trusted him as a friend, and respected him as a lawyer, two
compliments he couldn't give many other people.�
He had Gumshoe, of course, but their relationship had always been more
professional than anything, especially given their respective positions.

But Phoenix was someone on his level, and their being reunited
meant more to him than he could have imagined.�
More than that, just being around Phoenix had opened him up to more people--had even helped him
learn how to be himself.

I'm a better person, for having met him, Miles thought as he stared down at the orange peel
in his hand.� But now, we're going back to court.�
I can't let him down.� His
fingers tensed, gradually shredding the fruit skin in two.� I'll
fight, just like I told him to.� And we'll find the truth.� That's
our purpose.

Why does knowing that not make it any easier?

Miles forced himself to
finish peeling the orange and eat it.� He
was aware of his tendency to brood, and if he didn't get some food into him now
he would certainly forget later and be worse off for it.� Coffee, however, barely required conscious
effort to consume.� By seven thirty he was back to work with the same papers he'd
abandoned only a few hours ago.

At eight thirty he called the Chief Prosecutor, who informed him they
would be setting up a temporary office in the police force banquet hall while their
own building was renovated.� He was not
expected to return to work until Monday for recovery purposes, or even later,
if he required it.� Miles assured him
this would not be the case.

At nine he received a call
from Ema, who was anxious to check up on his well being. He bypassed her
concern by asking about her latest case, but unfortunately she didn't have any
new information for him.� Whoever had set
fire to the Prosecutor's Office had not left any clues behind.� She promised to keep working, and to check in
on him again that evening.

At nine thirty he called Detective Gumshoe, waking him out of a
sound sleep.� After brief apologies he
called in a favor his comrade was more than willing to fulfill: to get him all
the evidence relating to Chassie Gander's case.�
Gumshoe was a good man who didn't ask many questions.

Just after ten o'clock, when Miles was considering a nap, the Chief
Prosecutor called him back to inform him that The People versus Chassie Gander
had been appealed, and would appear on the court docket in twenty-four hours.

*****

Phoenix let out a thin sigh as he made his way down the steps
of the police station.� By now he was familiar
with many members of the city's law enforcement, and it hadn't been difficult
learning from them where he could find the Chief Prosecutor and his temporary
office.� Despite the chaos the city was
in, Chassie's execution was so close, and Phoenix's new evidence strong enough, that his appeal
couldn't be denied.� He had filed and
would appear in court as early as the next day.

He thought he should have
felt some kind of anxiety, now that he had his appeal and a date was set.� But there was only a kind of grim acceptance
that left him feeling offset with the bustling city around him.� He was even a little relieved.� As long as he was moving forward, his mind
was occupied.

Phoenix stopped at the bank for a cash withdrawal, and soon
after received a call from Lotta to tell him she'd finished the pictures.� They met at a coffee shop to exchange goods
and payment.� Once she'd left Phoenix took a few minutes at the back of the shop to look
over the contents.� As he'd suspected,
most of April's photographs he couldn't look at without blushing let alone
consider submitting to court.� But there
was one that had benefited from Lotta's enlargement: it was April posing with
her drink, and just over her left shoulder a figure was visible through an open
window.� Once Phoenix figured out what he was looking at, it was fairly
easy to make out Chassie Gander in a phone booth just outside the duplex.

She called Urami after she left, Phoenix
recalled, tucking the photos back into their envelope.� This
corroborates her account.� Just after
this, she left for the clinic�

Phoenix headed back to K.B. Security, and met with a rather
irate April May.� Her manner quickly
improved upon seeing the white bank envelope he had to offer her.� She thumbed swiftly through the bills and
returned to glaring.� "This is only
half."

"You get the rest after you testify, remember?" Phoenix said, giving his wallet a pat once it was back in his
pocket.� "I'm counting on you to
tell only the truth."

April waved a hand
dismissively.� "Yeah, yeah.� But I don't think you'll like what I have to
say."� She took the money out of its
envelope and tucked it into her bra, for no reason that Phoenix could comprehend.�
"Not a bad wad for a few pictures and testimony I'd be subpoenaed
for anyway.� I hope it's worth it to you,
Wright."

Phoenix frowned slightly, shaking off the sensation that
April's comment had been deliberate.�
"If it saves her life," he said, more seriously than he'd
intended, "almost anything's worth it."

"Hmph!� Should have guessed you'd say something sappy
like that."� April rolled her eyes
and turned back to her desk.� "Seeya
in court, Feeny."

Phoenix wandered back outside, and hesitated on the sidewalk
for a few minutes as he tried to decide what to do next.� He still had most of the day left and no
errands to run.� He was starting to
consider an early lunch when his phone rang.

The number that flashed
across his screen was Miles'.� Phoenix cringed as he fought with himself whether or not to
answer.� Am I up to another fight?� I can't
just ignore him.� As his ring tone
started over, he finally answered.�
"Yes�?"

"Where are you
now?" Miles asked first, skipping all supposed pleasantries.� It was hard to gauge his tone of voice over
the phone.

"Downtown," Phoenix replied evasively.�
"I was about to head home.�
Why?"

Miles was silent a
moment.� "I'll meet you there.� We have to talk."

"Um�all right."

Miles hung up, but Phoenix kept the phone at his ear for another few seconds to
be sure.� He's going to my apartment?� His
brow furrowed as he slipped his phone back into his pocket and continued on to
the bus stop.� What does he want to talk about anyway?�
If yelling at me makes him feel better I guess I owe him that much.� Without having any idea of what to expect
Phoenix rode the bus to the other end of town and walked the
rest of the way home.

Miles was easy to spot.� He was seated up on the wall again, like he
had sat with Ayame, hands braced on the ledge and shoulders hunched
forward.� He was tapping out some intermitted
beat with his heel.� He didn't notice Phoenix at first, which allowed the defense attorney a decent
reading of his expression.� Miles
looked�anxious, but not angry.� It was
the most Phoenix could have hoped for.

Miles finally spotted Phoenix heading toward him, and he hopped quickly off the
wall as if embarrassed to have been seen on it.�
He was dressed casually, in a peacock-blue turtleneck and faded
jeans.� Phoenix wasn't sure he would ever get used to seeing him
wearing such every-day clothing.� He
slowed, and finally they were face to face.

"Sorry about the short
notice," Miles said evenly.� Each
word sounded stiff, as if he'd been rehearsing them.� "But it's important."

"It's okay."� Phoenix was just glad they hadn't started fighting
immediately.� "Let's go inside.� We can talk there."

*****

Miles followed Phoenix up to his apartment on the third floor, neither of
them speaking a word.� He had only seen
the interior of the place once before, and as he stepped inside he wasn't
surprised to see it hadn't changed.� It
wasn't cluttered - Phoenix didn't own enough for that - just simple, and cozy,
not unlike an old chair that only became more comfortable as time passed.� Miles took in the layout, trying to decide
where the best place for the conversation he had in mind was.

"Can I get you
something?" Phoenix asked awkwardly as he took off his suit coat.� He clearly wasn't used to being a host.� "Some water, or a beer�?"

"No, I'm fine,"
Miles assured as he paused in the main room.�
"I can't stay that long.� I
have to prepare for court tomorrow."

Phoenix fidgeted.�
"Yeah�."� After a moment
of deliberation he continued.�
"Listen, Edgeworth, I'm sorry about that.� I didn't know--"

Miles waved a hand at
him.� "It's all right," he said
before Phoenix could go on.�
"You're just doing your job, and me, mine."� His shoulders drooped a little.� "I'm sorry about throwing you out last
night."

"No, I�I probably
deserved it."

Phoenix smiled, that thin, sheepish smile that made his
eyebrows wilt and his eyes gleam like a guilty schoolboy.� It rendered him impossible to be angry
with.� Miles lowered his chin.� "Probably," he echoed.� "But I've been thinking about what you
said."

Phoenix stepped closer.�
"You shouldn't," he said quickly.� "I was just upset--I didn't mean most of
it."

Miles' lip twitched.� "No, I know you did.� And it's all right."

"But I--"

"Wright."� Miles glanced up, meeting his gaze.� "It's all right," he repeated.� "It's the truth, after all.� I�made mistakes, before you came along."

"But it wasn't entirely
your fault, either," Phoenix
continued to try and object.� "You
were just--"

As much as Miles appreciated
that support, it wasn't helping to get his point across.� It was difficult enough to admit his failings
without Phoenix trying to tell him they weren't his fault.� He took Phoenix by the shoulders, holding him at arms length.� "Just listen," he insisted.� "I'm trying to tell you something
important."

Phoenix fell still beneath his hands, and at last gave up his
arguing.� "What is it?"� Though he was trying to look calm and
attentive, uncertainty showed behind his wide blue eyes.� Maybe it was the sudden contact making him
wary of being thrown against another wall.�
But the stability helped Miles in his resolve, and he wasn't about to
let go.

"I wanted to tell
you�you were right," Miles said slowly.�
He couldn't remember now how many times he had played this conversation
over in his head, how to word it to best convey his meaning.� In the beginning he had even attempted to
imagine Phoenix's reaction, but that didn't matter nearly as much
now.� All he wanted was to expose his
full honesty before they went to court and possibly forgot it all.

"I made mistakes,"
he went on, his fingers twisting slightly against Phoenix's white dress shirt.�
"Probably more than I even remember now.� But I haven't forgotten that you're the one
who showed me that."

Phoenix gulped.�
"I was just doing what I thought was right," he replied
quietly.

"Yes�I know."� Miles smiled thinly.� Phoenix's expression was becoming too hard to look at: it was
all sympathy and confusion and maybe even optimism.� "You always do.� I owe you everything because of that, you
know.� If not for you�."

Phoenix shifted and looked about to speak again, but Miles
wasn't ready to let him.� If he didn't
finish now what he'd come to say, he was afraid he might never have another
chance.� He pulled Phoenix closer, nearly resting his chin against Phoenix's shoulder so he wouldn't have the weight of those
blue eyes on him.� Phoenix flinched, his hands lifting indecisively only to halt,
suspended, in the air next to them.�
"Edgeworth�?"

"I'll never be able to
repay you for what you did for me," Miles told him firmly.� "You've saved many lives by now, but for
me�you saved me from something worse than execution."� He squeezed his eyes shut.� "What I was going to become.� I know you'll never really understand what
that's like or what it means to me.� But
I want you to know I won't ever forget it.�
And that's why�."

Phoenix finally figured out what to do with his hovering
hands--he let them rest against Miles' ribs, curled faintly against his
back.� And though Miles was fairly sure Phoenix was just trying to find a solution to them being
pressed so awkwardly together, he was struck momentarily by the intimacy of the
gesture.� Reciprocation turned what Miles
had intended as a position of hiding into an embrace.

Miles licked his lips and
forced himself to continue, now that he couldn't pull away.� "That's why I have to fight, too,"
he said with a bit more confidence.�
"You said you're doing this for me, but it's just as much the
opposite.� Because I'm the only one who
can beat you, if you've made a mistake.� I
can't let you win a case you weren't meant to any more than you can me."

Phoenix sighed, but wasn't inclined to argue with him any
more.� "Then we'll just have to
settle it in court."

"Yes.� And we will."� Miles frowned as his fingers tightened.� "But whatever happens, I wanted you to
know I won't forget.� Do you
understand?"� A subtle tremor ran
the length of his body.� "Too much
has come between us already for something like this to make us stop being
friends."

*****

Those words were just what Phoenix had wanted to hear, and it wasn't until Miles said
them that the block in his stomach finally dissipated. �Their gradually rebuilding friendship was so
tenuous he had feared their fight the night before might have shattered any
chances of reconciliation.� But now,
Miles had come to him with
reassurances, confirming the tiny hope he'd held on to all long: their work
didn't have to come between them.

Phoenix shivered, his hands creeping up Miles' back as his
arms tightened around him.� Miles tensed,
probably confused by his friend's intensity, but he didn't care.� It was as he'd told Miles only two nights ago--his
close companions were a precious few, and the thought that he had just been
saved from losing one brought him almost more relief than he could bear.

I can't lose him again, Phoenix
thought, the grip of his fingers almost desperate as he rested his chin against
Miles' shoulder.� He finally came back, and I almost ruined it.� I can't let him leave again.

Miles made a quiet, awkward
noise at the back of his throat, and just when Phoenix thought he would force them apart he finally
relaxed.� He stretched his arms to circle
Phoenix's shoulders.�
Neither of them were used to this close contact--they were each, in
their own way, accustomed to keeping people at a comfortable distance.� It wasn't until then that Phoenix realized just how similar they were, in that
way.� He had always been drawn to the
bold, those friends that would stay beside him and allow him to take as little personal
initiative as possible.� In this way he
had many arms-length acquaintances.

Had Miles surpassed him?� Phoenix couldn't remember hearing such sincerity from the man
before now, and listening to him divulge his feelings when they were already
pressed so close made his chest clench with an unfamiliar sensation.�� Even when at opposite ends of logic, Miles
placed all his trust in his childhood friend.�
Phoenix was awed by the thought.

Miles sighed and at last
began to pull away.� As he did, Phoenix drew his hands slowly down Miles' back, preparing to
let him go completely.� But as he did
Miles abruptly fell still again, and Phoenix's fingers could feel the toned muscles along his ribs
and spine contract beneath them.� When
Miles let out a shaky breath the air hissed past his ear.� They both stopped.

Phoenix was only instinctually aware that his unintended
caress had caused the halted movement.�
His body understood better than his mind that some part of Miles' taut
frame misinterpreted his retreat as an advance.�
But he did know, all too consciously, that whatever made Miles tense in
that way it had sent a pulse of heat into his gut he hadn't felt in a long
time.� There was another person in his
arms, warm and unexpectedly inviting.�
Though he was confused, and downright raw from all the deception and confrontation
of the past several days, he couldn't give that up.� The trust Miles had confessed to him blurred,
and suddenly all he could think was that he couldn't let him go.

Miles turned his head,
probably intending to ease him back, but it was just enough to be construed as
invitation--Phoenix tilted his own chin to meet his lips in a firm kiss.

Miles' hands flinched against
Phoenix's back as his eyelids fluttered in surprise.� The kiss had almost missed; Phoenix's aim was low, his lower lip landing just below
Miles'.� But Miles did the unexpected,
dipping his head enough for them to properly meet.� This act of acceptance only lasted as long as
the kiss.� As soon as Phoenix leaned back, face flushed and shocked with himself,
he saw first that Miles was just as surprised.

What did I just do?� Phoenix's eyes went wide, too frozen to think of drawing his
trouble-causing hands away.� I didn't really just do that, did I?

Miles watched him, and his
cool gray eyes, for those few seconds, seemed to fill the entire world.� "What was that for?"

"I-I didn't do it,"
Phoenix stammered without thinking.

"Didn't�."� Miles' face scrunched in confusion - had that
actually worked?� But then he shook his
head.� "I didn't know you were�like
that."

"I'm not.� I mean, I wasn't.� I�."�
Phoenix slumped hopelessly.�
"What are we talking about?"

Miles looked baffled.� The situation would have been humorous if it
wasn't already painfully awkward.� He
slid his hands back to Phoenix's shoulders.�
"I'm not sure."

Phoenix felt the strength begin to run out of him.� Now
what?� He lowered his eyes, feeling
guilty and embarrassed.�
"Sorry.� I don't know what
came over me."

"It's all
right."�

Miles voice sounded strange
just then, or at least, more contemplative than it ought to.� Phoenix started to look up, and flinched when
the hand at his shoulder slithered up to cup his chin.� This time he could only stand frozen as Miles
leaned in and kissed him again.

Miles was clearly the more
experienced.�� His lips were wide and
firm, and the tiny, coaxing movements they made against Phoenix's mouth sent a quiver down into his knees.� He knew just at what angle to meet him, how
much pressure to keep at Phoenix's
jaw to guide them together.� His
confidence was overwhelming and his tenderness even more so.� When they finally separated, Phoenix's hands were trembling at his friend's ribs.

What is this?� Phoenix took in a long gulp of air, and with it regained some
of his senses.� He couldn't explain his
own actions, but Miles' were definitely deliberate; his mind began to spin with
questions, half-remembered exchanges, old jokes he and Larry had made at their
friend's expense--they didn't seem quite so funny now, with his heart
fluttering in his chest and moisture drying off his lips.

Is this what I want?� The fingers against his jaw
shifted slightly, and without thinking Phoenix obeyed the prodding, tilting his chin up for yet
another kiss.� This can't be why I wanted to see him again, all those years.� But when Miles drew their bodies tightly
together once more, when the clench of Phoenix's hands against his back made him shiver in what Phoenix finally understood to be excitement, the rest of his
rational thoughts slipped away.� It no
longer mattered that it was a man's frame he was clinging to.� Miles' lips were too strong, too clever for
him to consider they weren't the soft offerings of a woman that he was used
to.� Instead of supple breasts Phoenix was pressed against a flat chest of toned muscle, and
he didn't care.

He felt amazing.� It seemed like an eternity since he'd had a
warm body wrapped around him, let alone one so confident and unyielding.� When Miles parted his lips he didn't hesitate
in doing the same, and moaned softly beneath the attentions of his eager
tongue.

Their breath ran out too
quickly.� Even after Miles pulled back Phoenix could feel his lips tingling, and his sigh was almost
a murmur of pleasure.� Every muscle in
his body was taut and every nerve bright and aware, but just when he tried to
pull Miles back he was halted by a hand on his chest.

"We�can't do this
now," Miles said breathlessly.� A
conflict of reason and lust played out all too clearly on his face as he urged Phoenix to step back from him.� "It's too�"

Phoenix retreated a few steps, and started when the back of
his thighs bumped against his sofa.� He
leaned heavily against it--his limbs were acting ahead of him, and he wasn't
sure he could trust them with Miles still in range.� "Edgeworth, I�."

Miles straightened, smoothing
his shirt and pushing his hair back in an effort to regain his composure.� Seeing him so flushed and disheveled gave Phoenix a strange feeling of accomplishment.� "This is a bad time," he
continued.� "We have to go to court
tomorrow, and�"� He paused, watching
Phoenix, and then a slow grin stretched his features.� "And you look so confused."

Phoenix laughed weakly.�
"What an understatement."

Miles' expression reflected
sympathy, making Phoenix wonder exactly what the man was thinking about
him.� He couldn't consider for long,
though, because then Miles was stepping towards him again.� His stomach clenched expectantly just before
the kiss touched his lips.� Fearful of
being caught up again Phoenix kept his hands braced firmly against the sofa back
until Miles pulled away.

"We'll talk about this
later," Miles assured.� His smile
was young and even charming.� "Sorry,
for barging in like I did.� I'll see you
tomorrow."

"Yeah," Phoenix replied dumbly.�
"Tomorrow."

Miles turned and headed for
the door.� As soon as it closed behind
him Phoenix's knees finally gave out--he sank to the floor with a
long sigh.� "What the hell just
happened?" he wondered aloud.� He
stared down at his hands, which had caused the bizarre exchange.� "I guess Miles really is�but that
means�."

Phoenix closed his eyes and shook his head.� It was hard to concentrate when he could
still feel the imprints of Miles' hands on him; his stiff lips, kissing him
with such intensity; the short, hot pant of his breath.� The darkness behind his eyelids gave his
imagination too much of a breeding ground, and soon his mind was filled with
echoes of stimulation, wondering what it would have been like if they'd gone
further, if those rough hands were given more freedom, if clothing weren�t in
the way--

Phoenix shivered and groaned softly, only half aware that his
own fingers were creeping over the front of his pants.� It's
been a long time since I've been with someone, he thought, rubbing his
suddenly throbbing groin.� With my work I haven't had time to really
think about myself, or having a relationship.�
Let alone with someone like--

No, what am I doing?

Phoenix quickly drew his hand back, startled and a little
frightened by how deeply he was being affected by the encounter.� He and Miles had certainly grown closer since
his return, but not like this.� They were
friends.� He shouldn't have been so
filled with�the desire he felt now.

Damn it, I'm just too worked up to think clearly.� Phoenix forced himself to stand, and was already removing his
shirt and tie as he made an escape towards the bathroom.� I need
to calm down.� Maybe then�I can really think about this.
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One of Every Color