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Phoenix has never been the most popular kid in class, never really actively disliked, but not exactly liked either. It’s the thought that rings through his head as he watches how easily all the other kids turn against him. How quickly they point their fingers at him even when there’s no proof that he did it. Vaguely he remembers something he learned from watching television, something about mobs, and he knows they aren’t blaming him because they don’t like him, but still the accusations sting and he can’t help the tears from streaming down his face.
So it comes as a shock when someone actually comes to his defence, even more so when it’s the one person who he would most understand pinning the entire thing on him. Smart, stern, and usually so quiet Miles Edgeworth standing up and silencing the whole crowd in his defence. Except not really his, just the defence of justice in general, in defence of what is right and should be done. It’s like Miles is a superhero, or maybe a sidekick, or maybe just a superhero in the making. Either way Phoenix is more than just a little awe, and even once Larry joins in in his defence as well it doesn’t grow any weaker.
Phoenix’s admiration might dim a bit as time passes, but it’s hard to forget that one moment where someone barges in as if they’re some sort of guardian angel sent to save you.
-
They grow close and closer as time passes, the three of them, and Phoenix never thought that he would have friends as good as he does now and it hasn’t been that long since they started being friends but he still wakes up every day vaguely amazed this is his life now.
It’s silly he knows, but he just can’t help it.
-
It’s nearly Christmas break when Miles comes in to class one day, a wide grin Phoenix has never seen before on his face that makes his cheeks feel warm.
He practically launches himself towards Larry and him, and begins to spout off some long story about how his dad is getting him the absolute best Christmas present ever and letting him come to one of the court sessions for his current case and it’s apparently against some guy named Von Karma who according to Miles’s dad is a super bad guy but of course his dad is going to end up winning so it’ll all be okay because in the end, justice always prevails.
His eyes are bright and his smile is even wider and Phoenix is overcome with the same kind of awe he can remember feeling that same day during that class trial. Larry eventually shifts the conversation elsewhere but Phoenix can’t seem to get that image of Miles smiling out of his head.
-
On the last day before winter break, the class is predictably emptier than normal, kids already having been whisked away by parents for family trips and kids like Larry, who just plain don’t show up. Out of their class of around 20 only half are here, and he can see in the teacher’s eyes that she doesn’t want to be here anymore than they do.
She waves her hand dismissively and tells them to do whatever, they can go down to the library or gym if they wish – she’ll write them a note – but they can’t go outside.
Three of the kids have already fallen asleep, and another four approach the teacher and then head down to the gym, the rest sit around each other and start to chat, but Miles grabs him by the hand and walks them both over to the teacher’s desk.
Phoenix doesn’t ask where they’re going, and neither does she, handing them both passes to the library and reminding them to come back for lunch before turning her attention back to a video playing on her phone.
They show their passes to the librarian who smiles tiredly but kindly and then waves them off, a couple other kids are here – likely in the same situation as them – but it’s for the most part empty. Miles ignores them and leads them towards the back, while it’s no surprise to Phoenix, there is no Law section in an elementary school library but Miles has managed to find a few hidden among the sparse History section in the back corner of the library.
Phoenix isn’t entirely sure why that’s there either he’s never seen any kids other than Miles in this part of the library, but here it is regardless.
Miles pulls out the thick text he’s been working his way through and settles down cross-legged on the floor and Phoenix stares at him for a moment before picking a book on Art History and sitting down beside him. At lease these ones have pretty pictures to look at while he reads, the last time he glanced over at the one Miles had, it had had a picture of some person being hanged. He still remembered Miles insisting that his dad saw worse at his job all the time and if he was going to be a defense lawyer just like him – and he was – then he had to get used to this kind of thing.
He shivered at the thought; he’d never been one for blood and horror.
“Are you okay, Phoenix?” Miles asks, glancing over at him, the glasses he wears while reading slipping a little down his face at the movement.
“Um,” he begins, diverting his attention down back to his book, “just thinking about the book you’re reading, anymore pictures of dead people?”
“Actually,” Miles starts, and Phoenix instantly regrets asking, “Currently they’re going over this case in the mid 1700s when women we’re going missing only for their heads to be discovered on the pikes of gates around the city. The bodies however never turned up.” He turns the book over, showing a grainy picture of a nice house front, only there’s you know, the head of a lady on top of it. He feels his stomach turn, and as Miles continues, he vaguely wonders if this is proper to have in their library. “The police couldn’t figure out how the killer was getting the heads into perfectly public areas without anyone noticing –eventually the killings tapered off and the killer was never caught.”
“Personally,” he says, tapping at one of the sections of the page, “I don’t think it’s too hard to get a head somewhere, you go at night, lighting wasn’t as good back then –and I doubt they stopped killing they probably just moved somewhere else and continued there.”
Phoenix nods as if he agrees, but mainly he’s just trying to keep his stomach settled so he doesn’t throw up at the thought of all these innocent people murdered and beheaded.
“They never did find their bodies, but I’m sure that my dad could have, and caught the killer.”
“So could you,” or at the very least do a better job than Phoenix ever could have in the same place.
Miles’ eyes light up, almost sparkling as he turns to face Phoenix completely, “You really think so?”
“I mean, yeah, you’re smart and dedicated and you’re good at figuring things out, I bet you could.”
“Well that’s kind of you to say,” and at the overly formal tone he looks over to see Miles’s gaze stuck back in his book and his cheeks have turned a soft red.
“Aw, there’s no need to be embarrassed Miles,” he says with a grin, and gets a smack in the arm n response.
“I’m not embarrassed! You gave me a compliment and I accepted it nothing out of the ordinary.” Except he still won’t meet his eyes and the blush on his cheeks is just that bit brighter.
The word ringing through Phoenix’s head is cute and it’s like a cd stuck on repeat and he can’t explain why at that moment he leans down and presses his lips against Miles’, and the feeling is soft and warm and he likes it and for some reason idly wonders if it is this nice when his parents do it.
Miles pulls away suddenly, eyes frozen in shock and it suddenly strikes him that perhaps he shouldn’t have done that. He scrambles back, hitting the bookcase behind him and winces when one of them falls and hits him in the shoulder.
He makes a movement as if to grab him and it sends Phoenix shooting to his feet, backing away slowly.
“That was, uh, yes. Have a very nice Christmas I really hope you and you’re done have fun at the trial I’ll see you after the break.” Miles is still staring and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. There’s a beat of silence, and he scratches the back of his head. “Enjoy the rest of your break, I’ll see you around.”
And then, without another word bolts from the library. He thinks that maybe he hears Miles call out to him but he doesn’t stop until he’s back at the classroom. The teacher looks at him in confusion, but thankfully doesn’t ask about it and concedes to giving him a pass to the gym after he assures her that Miles is fine.
He somehow manages to avoid Miles for the rest of the day and enters winter break with a funny sort of feeling in his chest, but it’s okay it’s fine. He’ll see Miles again after the break and it’ll be okay, they’ll make it okay.
Except Miles doesn’t come back after the break, and not even the teacher’s seem sure of what’s happened.
Except Phoenix doesn’t see Miles again, not for over a decade at least.
-
Trucy spins bottle, and he thinks about how he’s still pretty sure this isn’t how the game is played as he watches it spin around and around.
It slows to a stop in front of Apollo, who grimaces as he flicks his eyes over at Trucy. “Truth or dare, Apollo?”
He hesitates, taking long enough to choose that Athena elbows him in the gut and he lets out a “dare” as he gasps for breath.
“For god’s sake keep your hands to yourself,” Apollo spits, and Athena grins, humming nonsensically.
“I got it!” Trucy says, sudden enough that everyone jumps, “Alright Polly, you gotta go to the bathroom and get all the gel out of your hair.”
Apollo sputters, hand defensively hovering over the pointed spikes that have become some sort of both trademark and charm in one. “I pick truth!”
“Nope, no switching we agreed on that at the beginning now go shoo,” she says, hands waving off towards the bathroom, and Ema flicks a snackoo at him when he still seems to stall.
Phoenix watches all of this with an amused eye, and wonders if he should leave. It’s supposed to be family game night but maybe they’d feel more comfortable without someone a decade older than them there.
“Daddy, truth or dare?” He jerks his head over to Trucy, who then nods her head at Apollo who is staring at him expectantly. His hair lies a slightly poofy mess and he’s briefly overcome with the urge to reach over and ruffle it, it looks so soft.
“Truth,” he says at last.
Apollo nods, and then tilts his head to the side, tapping his chin. When he finally straightens, it’s with sigh, “I can’t think of anything that won’t be absolutely boring.”
“When was your first kiss?” Ema offers, and Trucy quite nearly squeals in delight.
“Yes, that one, that one.” She says, practically bouncing in place and Apollo waves his hand in a go ahead manner.
“My first kiss,” he starts, slow as if he’s remembering but mainly he’s just trying to keep his voice level. “I don’t even remember to be honest, it was with Dahlia –Iris, probably.” It could have been, it’s not entirely a lie.
“You’re lying,” Apollo and Trucy say at the same time, and he doesn’t know why he ever thought he could get a lie past two human lie detectors.
“So who was it then?” Ema asks, leaning forward with a grin.
“Bet it’s Edgeworth,” and that’s Widget’s voice saying the last name he expected to come up in this situation. When he looks at Athena she’s covering Widget with both hands, face red with embarrassment.
“That wasn–”
“It’s not Edgeworth,” he says too quickly, not letting her finish, and belatedly realises that maybe wasn’t the best idea.
He can feel Apollo’s stare on him, but it is Trucy who breaks the sudden silence. “You’re lying,” she repeats, voice sick with glee.
“Oh my god, I’m texting Lana she was fucking right.” He can vaguely hear Ema say through the pounding in his ears.
“Daddy when was it, where, is he going to be my new dad?”
“Oh my god,” Apollo says, sounding like he’s dying and Phoenix can relate.
“Game night is over,” he announces, standing up, “it’s over and I’m going to bed and anyone who brings this conversation up again ever is fired.”
“But I don’t work for you,” Ema calls after him, and Trucy yells out her agreement.
“Fired!” He repeats, and then closes the door to his room behind him.
-
“So,” Klavier begins, and the way he says it makes Edgeworth immediately want to leave, “fraulien Ema has told me some very interesting information.”
He glares, but as always Klavier takes that as some sort of sign to continue.
“She says, and I repeat, ‘I’m telling you this because Wright can’t fire me no matter how much he insists, but apparently Edgeworth was his first kiss,’ is she correct?”
He ignores the question, instead looking directly into his eyes as he says, “Tell Ema Wright can’t fire her, but I can –and you too if you don’t drop this conversation immediately.”
Klavier huffs, tossing his bangs back, “I believe her, you two can be so eerily in sync at time.”
“Fired.” He stresses.
“Exactly what I mean.” He says, nodding his head once and then leaving his office.
Edgeworth sighs, sliding his glasses off his face as he runs his hand through his hair, this isn’t what he wants to be thinking about first thing in the morning.
-
Phoenix can tell when Edgeworth opens the door, he’s probably the last person he wanted to see right now but he’s been thinking about this for days and Trucy won’t stop asking for details and Athena keeps avoiding eye contact as if this is all somehow her fault and not his for kissing Edgeworth in the first place.
“This is way too late but according to Apollo who was told by Klavier you were told about game night and like better later than never right?” Edgeworth stares, unimpressed. “Right. I’m sorry about that day it wasn’t fair to you and at this point I wasn’t even sure you remembered given what happened after and I didn’t want to be the one to bring it up even if it was just to apologize even though –”
“Wright, stop,” he does, and Edgeworth pinches the bridge of his nose as he lets out a sign, “come in.”
“No see that’s fine I don’t actually n–”
“Wright.”
“Right.”
Edgeworth waves him in and leads him to some kind of sitting room, where he leaves him before exiting. He fidgets, plays with the whatever it is on top of the end table, he nearly drops it as Edgeworth enters the room, holding a tray with two mugs and a teapot.
“I was already making it when you knocked,” and the mildly defensive tone in his voice makes Phoenix laugh.
“I wasn’t judging you,” he offers placating, and Edgeworth gives him a small smile, a short one-sided upwards quirk of the lip.
“Of course.” He says, pouring tea into both mugs, “Anyway, of course I remember that day, it was a very fond memory back then. Being told by someone who knew you well that you could achieve your dream is a wonderful thing to hear as child.” Here he pauses, and he swirls his tea with a small spoon as his cheeks redden, “and what happened after was rather nice as well.”
Another pause, though this time when he speaks he’s looking Phoenix straight in the eye, “Though I suppose it is nice to know that was your first kiss, as it was mine as well.” There’s a slight smirk there, and Phoenix busies himself with his tea, suddenly embarrassed. “Could have been a second, maybe even a third had someone not run away.”
“We were kids,” he huffs, but there’s that giddy feeling he can remember from that day building in his chest again, “I doubt it.”
And there’s a definite playful note in Edgeworth’s voice when he says, “We’ll just simply never know.”
“Why never, we could still find out.” He says, frowning.
Edgeworth’s eyebrow quirks up, “Oh, really, we could?”
“Well yeah of course, we’re both here together aren’t we, we could go on a date or something, see where things go.”
“I see, well then, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 8, sound good?”
“Sounds great, I’ll b– wait, did you just ask me out? Did I just suggest you ask me out?”
“That’s correct on both accounts.” And Edgeworth isn’t laughing but Phoenix can feel it, he’s laughing on the inside, at him, with him.
“You tricked me!” He accuses, finger instinctually pointing outwards.
“Well, if you don’t want to go you don’t have to.” His tone is still teasing, but it’s more subdued now.
“No, I mean yes, I mean, I will see you tomorrow at 8 and you better take me somewhere nice.”
The time Edgeworth does laugh, a soft kind of sound Phoenix may or may not dream about tonight, and will definitely hear again tomorrow.
“I’ll see you then, Wright.” He says at length, voice carrying the same softness as his laughter and he feels himself blush despite himself.
“See you then,” he agrees, tone similar, as he leaves the room.
-
It takes 15 minutes to get Trucy corralled into her room, though not before promising her she’ll get a perfect play by play of every single moment of their date tonight. He fails to convince her nothing too interesting is going to happen, and he’s not entirely sure he wants to know exactly what she thinks is going down tonight.
He’s still adjusting his hair from where Trucy had ruffled it when he hears the knock on the door.
When he opens it the first thing he sees is a bouquet, and behind it is Edgeworth who stands with eyes averted and posture rigid. He takes the flowers, mumbling a thank you as he admires then, and sees Edgeworth relax minutely out of the corner of his eye.
“Shall we go then?” Edgeworth asks, extending a hand out towards him.
He stares at it, oddly reminded of new beginnings and starts in this moment –he takes it, and it feels right.