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“I can feel your smugness radiating from across the room, Wright.”
Edgeworth tries for a scathing tone, but it’s dampened greatly by how very rumpled and satisfied he looks in Phoenix’s bed, curled up on his side so he can glower at him. Phoenix, just as rumpled and naked but more overjoyed than smug, tosses the last article of his clothing that had found its way to the floor into the hamper. If he drops a sock and bends over just a little farther than necessary to pick it up, he’s just doing some post coitous stretching.
“I’m just glad both parties could come together like this to reach an agreement.” He beams brightly as Edgeworth huffs, climbing into bed and reaching for the prosecutor who does not move closer on his own, but allows himself to be dragged into Phoenix’s embrace.
“You tricked me. You told me you needed help with a case.”
“Mmm, that I did.” Phoenix arranges them to his liking: his soft cock against the crease of Edgeworth’s ass, his arm around that broad chest, hand holding firm to one of his pecs. He nuzzles the back of his neck, letting out a happy hum. “I had a lot of important things I needed to look over. I’m used to investigating with a partner, after all.”
Edgeworth shuffles a little out of his grip, fluffing up the pillow underneath his head. Phoenix tries not to pout at the loss of warmth. “Using all of your sex toys on me is not what I assumed you meant. I was lured into your home under false pretenses and then detained against my will.” He looks over his shoulder, expression hard to read in the shadows. “I could have you locked up in a matter of hours.”
Well that was just untrue. “I gave you a safe word! Along with multiple breaks and lots of water. I hand fed you grapes!”
“Room temperature grapes.”
“My humblest apologies, good sir. Next time I will make sure to serve you only the finest expertly chilled grapes.” Phoenix traces a star between his shoulder blades, smiling at the way he shivers. “Would you like them covered in gold leaf as well?”
Edgeworth finally gets settled and shifts to lay on his back. “Don’t be ridiculous. It tastes terrible and serves no functional purpose other than to look grandiose. I’d rather chew fondant for an hour.” Phoenix snorts and drops a kiss to the wrinkle in his brow, that familiar ache in his chest rearing its ugly head. They’ve been fooling around like this for months now, ever since Phoenix uncovered the truth of the DL-6 incident. Edgeworth had fluctuated between reaching out and pulling away, until the night he showed up at Phoenix’s front door looking lost and frustrated and hungry.
They say the rest is history, but even now when he can kiss the prosecutor as much as he wants behind closed doors, Phoenix still can’t bring himself to say what he truly feels. He’s got his own bag of unnecessary feelings now, ones that have only gotten worse the more time they spent together. He doesn’t want to scare him off now that they’ve reached a tentative equilibrium.
Reaching back, Phoenix turns on his bedside lamp and casts the room in soft yellow light. He draws back the covers, ignoring Edgeworth’s grumble of protest, and just takes the other man in for a moment. The first time they had sex he wasn’t allowed to leave a mark, nary a scratch, the only indicator of their might together being the lingering scent of distinct shampoo on his pillow. These days he can get away with a lot more. Still nothing above the collar, even though Phoenix has argued until he was blue in the face about how his cravat covers most of his neck anyway so the base of his neck should be fair game.
He’s learned to make up for the loss of real estate.
Eager fingertips trace the impression of his teeth on Edgeworth’s right pec, the indents here more pronounced than the others. Red marks of varying sizes decorate pale skin like polka dots, zigzagging all over his body from collarbone to calf, from wrist to shoulder. He knows without a doubt his entire body will be sore come morning, and he hides his satisfied smile against his shoulder.
Edgeworth squirms under his inspection. “If any of these get infected—“
“You’ll turn into a Were-Attorney.” Phoenix moves to lay in between Edgeworth’s legs and is delighted when the man spreads them wide without protest. He pays a visit to each and every mark he made over the course of the evening, lingering on his favorites. He rubs delicately over the really harsh ones, the deep reds that have already begun to purple at the edges, the ones that would radiate pain if he bumped into a desk or a doorway.
“You’re an animal.” Edgeworth sighs. His eyes are closed and his body is relaxed, allowing his limbs to be maneuvered at Phoenix’s discretion. He feels a little dizzy with this power, with the trust that Edgeworth places into his hands with full faith that he will be taken care of.
“Tell that to the scratches on my back! Talk about being infected.” He flexes his shoulders just to feel the sting, slight pain traveling from his shoulders down to his sides. Edgeworth had grinned when Phoenix trapped his hands and cuffed them over his head, a cat who got both the cream and the canary. Phoenix had never seen him so playful, so in tune with what he wanted sexually, and he had left the room under the guise of making the prosecutor wait when in reality it was to give himself a breather.
A bony knee wedges itself against his side. “I keep my nails very clean, Wright. I can’t say the same for your mouth.”
Phoenix grumbles playfully and keeps sliding down his body, nosing along the dark gray hair at his belly and following it down to the base of his soft cock. The scent of sex and sweat fill his nose; he opens his mouth and inhales deeply, fisting the sheets and humming against his body. Edgeworth rolls his hips a little as if in reward, and Phoenix chokes back a pathetic little whine. He finds a miraculously bare patch of skin on his inner thigh without even a hint of pink on it, smooth and unblemished and ripe for the marking. He heads straight for it without thought, only halted by the sudden grip to his hair pulling him back.
“Court is adjourned for the day.” Edgeworth looks like a pampered prince from this angle, propped up on his elbow and staring down at Phoenix with thinly veiled amusement and lingering desire. When he draws Phoenix up he goes willingly, accepting his kiss like an honored knight summoned for a sacred task. He feels chosen among a crowd of others, singled out for his superior abilities.
“But I’ve got some really compelling evidence I need to present.” His words come out a little breathless as he finds himself being rolled to his side of the bed. How wonderful that he has a designated side now when he didn’t before.
Edgeworth pats his chest a little condescendingly. “You’ll just have to hold onto it until next time.” Those words said so casually, without a hint of fear or retraction, set Phoenix’s heart ablaze. Months ago he was lucky if he caught a glimpse of the man sneaking out of his bedroom before the light of dawn touched his windows. Now there’s a pair of pajamas in the bottom of his sock drawer, and a box of chocolate Samurai Flakes in his kitchen cabinet, and a bag of floss sticks for sensitive gums behind his bathroom mirror. Phoenix hasn’t commented on the slow assimilation of fancy things into his apartment, wary of scaring Edgeworth off or calling attention to the fact that he’s been spending more and more nights in his humble abode. He drinks his fancy tea in the chipped mug painted to look like a cat that Phoenix bought at a thrift store two years ago. He plays with Phoenix’s hair when he thinks the other is too sleepy to notice.
He leans over and slides his hand along Edgeworth’s hip, reaching around to squeeze his ass. “Can I store it in your evidence locker?”
Edgeworth barks out a loud, booming laugh that comes from deep within his chest. He attempts to cover his mouth but Phoenix pounces on him, greedily eating up that sound like it’s the antidote to the deadliest of poisons. He laughs with his whole body, his smile wide and filling up his face, his shoulders trembling, his knees drawing up towards his chest. He’s never been more beautiful. Phoenix wants to tear something apart with his teeth.
“You most certainly can not!” He wheezes, trying to roll out from under Phoenix. “I swear I’ll make you sleep on the couch, Wright.” His attempts to gain the upper hand are undercut by how mirth weakens his muscles. Phoenix throws a leg over his lap and tries to pin him down fully.
“It’s my apartment!”
“I’m your guest!” Edgeworth plants his foot on the bed and pushes off with all his strength, knocking Phoenix off balance enough to push him aside. He nearly falls off the bed—it truly isn’t big enough for this—but manages to keep hold of Edgeworth’s wrists. They fight for control, trading little kicks and laughter all the while, and Phoenix feels those dangerous words rising like high tide in his throat.
Edgeworth ends up on top in the end, sitting astride Phoenix’s chest and looking more like a smug cat than ever. He leans down into Phoenix’s face still panting, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Phoenix swears he can see the stars in them.
“You’re a sloppy kisser by the way.”
Okay. Wow. Rude.
“What? Nu-uh.” He wiggles to little avail, other than seeing Edgeworth shift to maintain his position. He was no longer soft, but he wasn’t fully hard yet either. He wouldn’t mind acting as a pillow for the prosecutor to rub on if that’s what he wanted.
Edgeworth hums and thumbs at his bottom lip. “Far too aggressive and slobbery.” Not that Phoenix received any complaints earlier in the evening. In fact he’s pretty sure a pair of maroon slacks are on the back of his couch this very second, along with the rest of Edgeworth’s clothes.
“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.” Phoenix tips his chin up and smiles his best mischievous smile, overjoyed when Edgeworth has a smirk to match. Long fingers comb through his hair until they’re cradling the back of his head. Phoenix lets himself go plaint and allows his head to be angled just right, his eyes fluttering shut against his control.
“You know nothing about the fine art of a delicate touch.” Edgeworth murmurs in the scant millimeters between their lips. He kisses him before Phoenix can answer, not that he has a response ready and waiting. It wouldn’t matter if he had seeing as all thoughts are succinctly flushed from his mind in a matter of seconds.
The first night they kissed in the darkened doorway of Phoenix’s apartment, Edgeworth had been so stiff and closed off, eyes slammed shut and fists balled up at his sides. He seemed cold and distant even as he initiated every single touch, but it felt so impersonal. Phoenix was disappointed but not surprised when he practically ran out the moment it was over, avoiding Phoenix’s gaze and ignoring his soft pleas to talk things out, his willingness to be the shoulder Edgeworth could scream into. Back then that awkwardness was mistaken for inexperience, a misunderstanding that was quickly rectified once Edgeworth got over whatever mental hurdle he was struggling with.
Now he kisses Phoenix like he owns him, pulling on his bottom lip and tugging on his hair in perfect combination. Phoenix lets him in, of course he does, and he’s rewarded with a firm squeeze to his chest. He presses up into that touch and moans when Edgeworth skillfully plucks his nipple and rubs his tongue sensually along his own, nice and slow like they’ve got nothing but time. Phoenix gets lost in it, lost under the weight and heat of Edgeworth on top of him, around him, his now definitely hard cock pressed against his belly. They break apart with an audible wet click, both a little out of breath.
“See the difference?” He tweaks Phoenix’s nipple again; his weren’t as sensitive as Edgeworth’s but right now his entire body felt like a live wire. But it feels different than before. Rather than blazing heat that needed to be sated immediately, a slow rolling warmth has spread out across his body. Maybe it was because he already came once before, but he was content to let Edgeworth drive the ship right now, even if it meant waiting longer to get to their destination.
“Your tongue is really wide.”
Edgeworth reels back like he’s been slapped, sputtering like a leaky faucet. Phoenix grabs him by the waist and hurries to calm him.
“No, no, it’s good, I like it. Mine is pretty long, see?” He sticks his tongue out as far as it can go, wiggling it for emphasis, and then he taps his nose with it as if to prove he means business.
“You are ridiculous.” Edgeworth looks down at him with a pinched expression, but one that Phoenix has learned to mean he’s holding back a dumb little smile and doesn't want to show it.
He readjusts until he settles between Phoenix’s legs, a reversal from their earlier places, and Phoenix bites down on an embarrassing noise when he starts massaging the space where his inner thigh meets the rest of his body. Just because he isn’t in a rush to get off doesn’t mean he’s immune to the way those capable hands set off sparks within his core.
“You’re also a rather selfish lover.” Warm fingers curl around the base of his dick…and then don’t do anything else. Edgeworth simply holds him there, an occasional swipe of his thumb along the side of the shaft, but there’s no added friction or stroking. His other hand dips lower to cup his balls, rolling them gently between his fingers, giving the barest hint of a squeeze.
“Objection,” Phoenix gasps weakly, hips jerking involuntarily. “I focused on you the whole time. You were the main attraction and the closer. There was an encore.” The more he babbles the more Edgeworth rewards him with little strokes and touches, at some point finding the lube hidden in the sheets to ease the way.
“Exactly. I hardly got to touch you at all.” He wraps both hands around Phoenix’s slick cock and starts massaging, one hand twisting and squeezing near the base while the other pays special attention to the head. “You had me right where you wanted me the entire night. Very self-serving.”
Phoenix lets out a garbled moan, and his hands fly up to latch onto Edgeworth’s forearms. The man pauses, peering down at him with slight concern, but Phoenix shakes his head rapidly and loosens his grip just a bit. He doesn't want to stop him, god no, he just needs something to ground himself so he doesn’t go shooting off at any moment.
Edgeworth is just as hard as he is, the tip of his cock flushed pink and dewy, but you would think he wasn’t affected at all by how composed he seems. But he doesn’t conceal his desire, how openly he’s enjoying watching Phoenix writhe and squirm beneath him. He turns his gaze downward to watch his dick twitch in his hands, licking his lips in a move so overt it would’ve made Phoenix laugh if he wasn’t unraveling.
“You didn’t even watch your fingers when you stretched me. Didn’t watch me open up for you.”
“Fu-uck!” He bucks up into those hands, wailing when Edgeworth takes them away. He needn’t worry, since Edgeworth only stops to slick up fingers. Phoenix throws his legs open wider and grips tight to the pillow underneath his head. Edgeworth still takes his time even after Phoenix’s enthusiastic consent, but when the tip of his middle finger breaches him he realizes that the hesitation has nothing to do with uncertainty. Bastard is doing it on purpose.
“Come on,” he begs when he finds his voice, aiming for enticing but falling short somewhere around impatient. Edgeworth doesn’t budge and keeps his excruciatingly slow pace, pumping his middle finger all the way in, all the way out, again and again until Phoenix feels like he’ll rip at the seams. He goes a little faster with two fingers, but still not fast enough, and the hand that was previously stroking his thigh has gone back to fondle his balls. He tries to file that trait away to tease him about later.
“Any other n-notes you’d like to share with the opposing counsel?” He’s proud that his voice only wavers slightly, though the smirk Edgeworth levels him with means he definitely noticed. He’s gotten so goddamn smug about everything. Phoenix wants to burrow deep down into his chest.
Edgeworth pretends to think about his clearly rhetorical question while he crooks his fingers, sending Phoenix’s hips into the air. “If you plan on tying me up again, at least give me something to do.” He shuts his eyes as an involuntary shiver overtakes him, leaving Phoenix speechless. “You could have tied my arms behind my back and had me ride you, if you wanted something nice to look at.”
Phoenix’s hand shoots out and grabs Edgeworth’s shoulder, hauling him down for a kiss that’s more teeth than lips. The fingers inside of him press even deeper, flexing, and whatever game Edgeworth wants to play has to be shoved aside because he doesn’t want to wait anymore. Could he? Probably. But his self-restraint was all used up when he very tactfully did not devour the prosecutor the minute he walked through the door.
“Next time,” Phoenix pants against that sinful mouth. “Anything, whatever, I’ll put it in writing. Just hurry up.” He won’t be able to face him in court without picturing him like this, without hearing filthy words behind every Objection and Take That! Every stupid little finger waggle is likely to ignite a pavlovian response in his prostate.
He almost expects Edgeworth to ignore him, to wind him up even more, but it’s as if his words flip a switch and suddenly the cool and composed prosecutor is on him like a beast. He removes his fingers hastily, making Phoenix wince, but the discomfort is forgotten when he feels the blunt head of Edgeworth’s cock pushing into him. The not wholly unfamiliar stretch has his eyes rolling just a little. They’ve only done it this way a few times over the course of their little meetings; Edgeworth seemed to delight in how eager Phoenix was to encompass him completely, and he’s taken Phoenix apart with his fingers often enough that the defense attorney has started to crave it. He always forgets how amazing it feels.
But for all his big talk earlier he sure is quiet now, face tucked away between Phoenix’s neck and shoulder. Edgeworth clings to his hip with one hand and braces himself on the bed with the other, hips rolling in a slow, out of synch rhythm, like he can’t help but to thrust harder every now and then. He feels good like this, his body unable to bury the truth the way his words can.
“Nothin’ to say now that you have me where you want me?” He cards his fingers through fine gray hair and feels a tremor carry down Edgeworth’s spine. “Where’s that delicate touch you kept talking about, huh?”
A mockery of a kiss is bitten into his shoulder and Phoenix grins at the ceiling, eyes falling shut. Call him a sap but there was nothing he loved more than the missionary position. Like this Edgeworth was as close as possible, and Phoenix could keep him that way with minimal effort. He wraps his legs around his waist and moans at the slight change in angle, feeling an answering rumble radiate from Edgeworth’s chest.
“Is this why you like teasing so much? So you can let go like this?” He lets him hide his eyes for now, skimming a hand down his broad back to settle on his ass, groping and squeezing and encouraging him to pull out further, drive in harder. Is he embarrassed by his reactions? As if Phoenix hadn’t worshiped his body with the level of devotion reserved for serving at an altar that hasn’t responded in decades. This wouldn’t do at all, not now when Phoenix has seen how expressive he can be.
Phoenix tugs at his hair with purpose now until Edgeworth slowly, reluctantly, lifts his head. He cants his hips up just to watch Edgeworth’s jaw work around a silent moan. He does it again and cradles the side of his neck with his free hand, thumb resting against his pulse. Edgeworth tries to draw back to put some space between them but Phoenix holds fast with his legs, keeping him near.
“You’re beautiful. Did you know that?” It feels like walking across a tightrope above a raging river without a net, saying stuff like this, but it’s worth it to see the glimmer in Edgeworth’s eyes change to be a little more alert. His thrusts falter, unsure, and Phoenix has to coax him to move again with a generous squeeze to his backside.
“You’re biased.” Edgeworth bows his head, a renewed flush rising to his cheeks, his ears, and Phoenix feels his heart throb painfully.
“I have to tie you down so I don’t drive myself crazy, never knowing where to start on you.” The more Phoenix sees of him unguarded—lounging on his shitty couch in his underwear, puttering about his tiny kitchen—the harder it gets to swallow his own embarrassing, relationship altering words. He wonders if Edgeworth feels as awed as he does whenever he wakes up with Phoenix’s hair in his mouth, when he finds himself navigating his home with the ease of his own office. He wonders how he feels when he shames Phoenix for throwing his clothes on the floor while wearing an old band shirt, when he stands behind him in the mornings and slips hand arms around his waist as they wait for the old coffee machine to sputter to life.
Phoenix pushes him back with a sudden urgency, and hopes he isn't making a big mistake. “I’ll let you have me any way you want.” He fills his voice with as much meaning as he can, gazing into eyes he would know across a crowded room of thousands. He’ll take whatever scraps he can get but if he doesn’t have to make something out of nothing, if there’s even a chance that he’s not chasing after a ghost anymore…
“Anything you want, Miles, just gotta ask.”
“Wright.” Edgeworth dives down to kiss him, aggressive and sloppy and overwhelmed. Large hands run frantically over his body, digging into the soft flesh of his belly, his chest, his thighs. He drives into Phoenix with purpose now, raw and honest.
Phoenix loves him, and that singular truth is going to be his undoing.
But not right now with the sound of skin slapping skin echoing around his cramped bedroom. He’ll hold himself together long enough to bring Edgeworth back down until their foreheads are touching and those silent, secret little moans float down into his mouth.
“You gonna come?” He asks while the mattress springs creak in protest underneath them. “Can I watch?”
“Already did,” Edgeworth spits out, not a hint of venom in his voice. “Rather watch you.”
Oh, Phoenix is going to eat him.
“You can do that,” he says, stroking his cheek. Edgeworth draws in a deep breath and slowly, carefully sits back so Phoenix can get a hand around his dick. He’s been able to ignore his own pleasure before but now it hits him full force low in his gut. It doesn’t take long, not with Edgeworth still inside him and watching his hand with unbridled fascination. When he brushes his fingers against Phoenix’s knuckles, he drops his hand away and lets Edgeworth take over.
Phoenix’s ears are still ringing when Edgeworth finishes inside of him, mumbling something into his shoulder. Itch? Limb? Something in French or German, maybe. He’ll ask him later, if he remembers.
One of them turns out the lamp and they don’t do much else afterwards, too worn out to bother caring about the wet spot on the sheets or the cum and sweat cooling on their bodies. Edgeworth always insisted on not cleaning up when they didn’t use condoms so it can’t be that bad.
Edgeworth arranges them to his liking: his soft cock against the crease of Phoenix’s ass, his arm around his chest, hand holding firm to one of his pecs. He nuzzles the back of his neck, letting out a tired hum. Phoenix wiggles back against him to get even closer, grasping the hand on his chest and giving those fingers a gentle squeeze.
Edgeworth squeezes back.
“So. Same time next week?”
“Go to sleep, Wright.”