Chapter Text
Phoenix tossed and turned between the sweaty sheets. He tried not to look at the digital clock display, but out of the corner of his eye he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse: 12:44 AM.
Ugh. He was up again, thinking those thoughts about Edgeworth. He’d been trying to ignore them—why indulge in a fantasy that was never going to happen?—but he knew deep down he wasn’t going to be able to sleep unless he ‘took care of’ himself.
Fine. If it’ll help me go to sleep, I guess I’ll just get this over with. It was late, and he needed to be up bright and early the next morning to investigate the Lana Skye case.
Letting out an exhausted sigh, he pumped a dab of lotion from his nightstand into his hand and rolled onto his back. He was already almost painfully hard, so this wouldn’t take long.
Closing his eyes, he replayed the fantasy that’d been rattling around in his mind all night:
Phoenix was in Miles’ office for some reason. Any reason. Didn’t matter. It was late at night, and no one else was in the office. He was on his knees, half-naked, while a fully clothed Miles issued soft but firm commands:
“Get on your knees for me.” “Good, now undo my belt—that’s good.” “Now I want you to unzip my pants and feel how hard you’re making me.”
For each of these commands, Phoenix would eagerly comply and moan softly: “Yes, sir.” It felt so good to obey, to buckle to the authority in the other man’s voice. Each time he’d eagerly await the next directive, casting his eyes up to meet the impetuous smirk of his rival-turned-friend.
It was humiliating, too, to want this so badly, but he was so desperate that he’d do anything.
“You’re being such a good boy for me, Phoenix. Why don’t you take me into your mouth?”
“Yes, sir…” He tried to hide the eagerness in his eyes, but he couldn’t hide anything from Miles, who was studying every minute change in Phoenix’s facial expression, every gasp, every whimper. And why bother hiding it when it felt so good to surrender to his desires?
He gazed reverently at the other man’s fully erect cock before taking it to his lips, his own cock throbbing as he licked a drop of pre-cum off the tip.
Now he couldn’t help but moan as he took the entire thing into his mouth. Miles moaned too, stroking Phoenix’s cheek tenderly as the defense attorney sucked his cock.
“Oh God, Phoenix,” he grunted. “You feel so good.”
Phoenix’s chest swelled with excitement at the praise. Being subservient, making Miles happy…that’s all he wanted to do.
Miles’ cock grew harder in his mouth as Phoenix bobbed his head up and down, and his grip on Phoenix’s face tightened. Phoenix picked up the pace. He’d do anything to make Miles come. Anything to make Miles call him a good boy again.
Finally, the prosecutor’s breathing grew ragged as his cock swelled in Phoenix’s mouth. “Yes Phoenix, that’s it—I’m going to—”
A heady feeling, nothing short of delirium, overtook Phoenix as Miles came hard, pumping wave after wave of cum down his throat. He didn’t want it to stop, savoring the salty taste as he swallowed every last drop.
When he had finished, Miles stroked Phoenix’s face, catching his breath. Phoenix was on the verge of coming himself, and Miles hadn’t even touched him.
“What do you say?” Miles prompted, pulling out of Phoenix’s mouth.
Panting desperately, Phoenix whispered, “Thank you, sir.”
“Good boy.”
And then it all hit him: what he had just done—the humiliation of obeying another man so subserviently—the pleasure of gratifying Miles and being praised for it—
Phoenix gasped as a powerful orgasm erupted from his body. “Ahh—Miles—” he moaned to himself as he came, trembling from the pleasure.
It didn’t take long after coming for him to crash back to reality. This was embarrassing, he thought as he wiped himself off. Having these perverse thoughts about submission, moaning the name of someone who in all likelihood had no idea that Phoenix felt the way he did. He wished he could just make the thoughts go away—especially since he’d have to talk to Edgeworth tomorrow.
Still, releasing the pent-up energy within him had done the trick. Contented weariness fell over him, and before he knew it he’d drifted off to sleep.
* * *
It was cold and dark when Phoenix left the apartment that morning, bundled up in a heavy coat and clutching a hot thermos of freshly brewed coffee. A fresh snow had fallen over yesterday’s slushy remains, making the roads treacherous. He’d give anything to be sleeping in right now rather than running around town investigating, especially when his client was making his job excruciating, but he owed it to Ema to do everything he could to clear her sister’s name.
Plan for the day: chug coffee to stay alive, put on a chipper face to keep Ema’s spirits up.
When he reached his office, Ema Skye was already waiting for him, pen and paper at the ready.
“Good morning, Ema. Ready to get started on this investigation?”
“Oh, Mr. Wright! You look tired!” She wrote something down, then chewed on the eraser of her pencil. “Did you know that humans need at least 7 hours of sleep per night to function properly?”
Urgh. So much for the chipper face. “I’ve heard something like that,” Phoenix sighed before taking another sip from his thermos. “Got any fun facts about caffeine?”
“It’s a stimulant, Mr. Wright! It’s also a vasoconstrictor.”
Neither of those were fun facts, but okay. “Well, how about we go take a look at the crime scene?” he suggested, to change the subject. “Put some of your scientific skills to good use.”
She nodded enthusiastically, her ponytail bobbing. “I’ve brought some forensic tools that’ll help us! We’ll have this thing solved in no time.”
I really hope so, Ema. For both our sakes.
The crime scene investigation turned up a few clues—Bruce Goodman’s ID and some info on the primary witness for this case, Angel Starr. However, the sheriff wouldn’t let them look at the scene of the crime directly, meaning they couldn’t investigate any further without permission. Phoenix had been dreading this moment.
He’d have to go up to the Prosecutor’s Office and talk to Edgeworth.
Phoenix stifled a groan. It had been a little while since Phoenix had actually seen Edgeworth—they’d met up a few times for lunch recently, but with Phoenix’s hiatus from taking cases, it wasn’t as though they were seeing each other day-to-day.
It’s fine. I’ll just keep my interactions with him brief. It was bad enough that Phoenix was going to be looking at Edgeworth all day in the courtroom. There was no need for him to prolong the torture by having extended conversations with the man.
He distracted himself in the elevator by talking to Ema: about the case, about her sister, about her forensic tools. It wasn’t until they reached Room 1202 that Phoenix began to grow nervous.
The walls of Edgeworth’s office were lined with bookshelves. Huge arched windows illuminated a polished mahogany desk that Phoenix could imagine Edgeworth hunching over, scrawling notes in the margins of documents. The air smelled pleasant, like old books and dried tea leaves. Phoenix felt self-conscious about being in his office, the one that had set the scene for his lurid fantasy last night.
Ema and Phoenix examined the room together, taking note of the strange award on the desk, the Steel-Samurai themed gifts from Wendy Oldbag, the chess set that Phoenix had never noticed was clearly meant to be an imaginary battlefield for playing out Edgeworth’s victory against Phoenix. Gulp.
Maybe it was true that Edgeworth thought about Phoenix as much as Phoenix did about Edgeworth—no, that’s just wishful thinking. And even if it was true, it seemed that Edgeworth was more interested in dominating him in the courtroom than in the bedroom.
That reminds me. Note to self: add courtroom fantasy to the rotation.
God, there’s something wrong with me.
“You know, Wright, it’s rude to snoop around people’s offices while they’re not there.”
That voice…Urk!
“Mr. Edgeworth…it’s been so long!” Ema exclaimed. “My sister introduced us a few years back.”
“Oh, you’re Ema Skye! I—” Edgeworth suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable. Makes sense, seeing as he’s prosecuting Ema’s sister right now. “My, how you’ve grown,” he finished stiffly.
A very star-struck Ema didn’t seem to notice Edgeworth’s awkwardness. “Wow, Mr. Edgeworth, you remember me!” She launched into a rant about her admiration for Edgeworth’s prosecuting skills, and her dreams of becoming an investigator.
As Phoenix and Ema gathered information from Edgeworth on the case and shared their troubles accessing the crime scene, Phoenix kept getting distracted by the way the low morning light caught Edgeworth’s deep chestnut eyes. The way his brow furrowed when he brooded over some misfortune or the other. The way he seemed to have no patience for Phoenix’ s questions but kept his gaze locked and loaded on Phoenix the entire conversation.
Wait a minute. Am I internally fangirling over Edgeworth the same way Ema is right now? This is embarrassing.
At that moment, a timid-looking police officer with round cheeks burst through the door, brandishing a manila envelope. “Officer Mike Meekins, at your service, sir! I have direct orders from Chief Gant to rush this report to you!”
Edgeworth scowled. “I thought I told the chief not to bother me with anything but matters pertaining to this case.” He said the word chief with heavy disdain, folding his arms.
“Sir, I was told that this report is top priority! Please accept it, sir!”
“What did you say your name was?”
The man started to sweat. “Umm, Officer Mike Meekins, Sir! I—”
“Officer Meekins, I made it very clear that I didn’t want to be interrupted. I’ll be taking down your name and badge number so that your indiscretion can be…accounted for at your next salary review.”
Yikes. Poor guy.
“But sir, I—”
“Out. Now.”
“Yessir!” Meekins departed as quickly as he came. In his wake, an awkward silence descended on the three of them.
Wow. Leave it to the world’s most obsequious cop to make a weird conversation even weirder.
Tossing the priority envelope on his desk unread, Edgeworth let out a frustrated growl. “Wright.”
Without thinking, Phoenix blurted, “Y-yes, sir!”
God. Damnit. Phoenix’s hand flew to his mouth. He hadn’t meant to let that slip. Immediately his cheeks grew hot as Edgeworth’s hawk-like stare burned a hole through him.
Beyond an arched eyebrow and what Phoenix probably imagined was an upward twitch of the lips, Edgeworth made no acknowledgement of the honorific. “Go down to the precinct and talk to Detective Gumshoe. If you can get a letter of introduction from him or the chief, the sheriff will have to let you investigate. My words won’t do anything.”
“Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth! We’ll do that!” Ema finished off the last of her illegible notes and strode away.
Phoenix made to follow her, but Edgeworth stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Wright. Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”
“Oh. Sure. Hey Ema!” he called, jumping at the unexpected touch. “I’ll meet you at the police station, okay?”
“Yes, Mr. Wright! I’ll assess the scene objectively and inform you of any anomalies I detect.”
“Okay…” You weirdo. Just say you’ll let me know if you see anything, like a normal person would.
“Close the door behind you, would you, Miss Skye?” Edgeworth called, sending Phoenix into even more of a panic.
“Yes, Mr. Edgeworth!”
The door clicked shut behind her, and Phoenix grew nervous as he found himself in Miles’ direct company. Come to think of it, he couldn’t think of the last time he was alone with the prosecutor in private. Either they were out in the courtroom, or out in public, or Maya was with them. And as he turned to face the prosecutor, he swore he caught a glimpse of the same recognition in Edgeworth’s expression—but he was probably imagining it.
“She’s very determined,” Edgeworth chuckled. “Takes after her sister.”
Just act casual, Phoenix chided himself. “Yeah, well. I don’t know what’s harder to deal with—her determination to solve a case with science, or Maya’s eagerness to steal things from a crime scene.” He paused. “Wait. You didn’t hear that from me.”
“I heard nothing of the sort from you.” A rare mischievous twinkle caught Edgeworth’s eye.
Butterflies began to flutter in Phoenix’s stomach at the sight—no. I said I wasn’t going to tempt myself like this. “Listen, Edgeworth. As much as I’d love to catch up and chat, I, ah, gotta go meet up with Ema at the police station. There something you wanted to talk to me about?”
Edgeworth’s lip turned upward. “‘Sir’?”
The earth seemed to spin around Phoenix as his body flushed with heat. If he could have laid down and died at that moment, he would have. All the fantasies came flooding back, triggered by the shame and embarrassment of being put on the spot like this.
Phoenix knew he looked flushed, and the silence was surely only making it weirder. Say something! Say something! “Oh, um, that! That was just a slip of the tongue. You know, because Mike whatshisface kept saying it.”
“A slip of the tongue,” Edgeworth repeated, folding his arms. “You know, Wright, you’re not actually a very good liar.”
Oh no. He’s folding his arms. He’s doing the sexy stern disapproving thing.
I need to get out of here.
“Edgeworth, I have to go, I—”
“You know, what I really wanted to talk to you about is your strange behavior of late. Acting so clumsy and embarrassed when we meet up, avoiding me in the halls, and now calling me ‘Sir’ out of the blue. Is there something you want to tell me?”
For a nanosecond, Phoenix considered yelling Help! I’m being murdered! and making a run for it. But he couldn’t keep avoiding Edgeworth forever.
“Umm. Could we sit down?”
“Of course.” Edgeworth ushered Phoenix to an elegant table with a teapot at its center. He poured them both Earl grey without asking if Phoenix wanted anything.
Phoenix slunk into the upholstered chair and hoped that the setup of the table hid whatever weird shame boner he was developing. “Fine, Edgeworth. You’re my friend, so I’ll tell you. Just—promise that you won’t laugh at me, okay?”
“Is that what you were worried about? Don’t be silly.” Edgeworth seemed annoyed at the request. “Do recall that you’ve already seen me at my lowest point, and you didn’t laugh at me then.”
“Okay, okay. Point taken. It’s just—this is different.” Phoenix wrapped his hands around the teacup. He couldn’t look at Edgeworth while he talked. “It’s stupid, really. I’ve just been having these, umm, weird fantasies that I can’t get out of my head.”
“What sort of fantasies are we talking about here?”
“Come on, Edgeworth, don’t make me spell it out. This is embarrassing.”
“No, I just want to be clear—you mean fantasies of a sexual nature?”
“Yes,” Phoenix squeaked. “Fantasies of a sexual nature.” He stole a glance at Edgeworth at this, expecting to see disgust or scorn. A part of him hoped for what he secretly wanted to see in Edgeworth’s eyes—desire.
As it turned out, Edgeworth wore a neutral expression, which was both relieving and disappointing at the same time. “I see. And the ‘weird’ part of the ‘weird fantasy’ is…”
“Just…nonconventional ones involving things like submission and, uh…” The rest of the sentence died in his mouth. He knew he looked like a beet, and that Edgeworth was watching him intently.
Mercifully, Edgeworth swooped in to keep the conversation going. “I see. So imagining me as—” he cleared his throat— “some sort of authority figure. I can see why that’d make it uncomfortable to interact with me on the job.” He sipped his tea casually, as if they were debriefing a case rather than talking about kinky sex. Phoenix could have sworn Edgeworth was blushing behind his teacup, but then again the low morning light gave everything a warm tint.
Phoenix nodded. “Yeah. And hopefully you can understand why I didn’t want to bring it up, either.”
“You do understand you’ll have to face me in court tomorrow regardless, right?”
“Of course I understand that,” Phoenix groaned. He should’ve expected that this would turn into a mini-lecture on professionalism.
“Don’t groan at me, Wright. I just wanted to clear the air between us beforehand, for both our sakes.”
“Well, I already feel better after getting it out in the open.” Sitting across from him, so normally, while baring his soul like this was torture. But it was better than having to stuff his feelings inside like he’d been doing for months.
Edgeworth’s mouth opened to speak, but then his face scrunched up as though he thought the better of it.
“Yes?” Phoenix prompted. The conversation felt like it was nearing its natural end, but Phoenix got the sense that there was something else Edgeworth wanted to say, had been stopping himself from saying.
“From the—the intrusive nature of these fantasies,” Edgeworth began, choosing his words carefully, “I take it they’re not something you wanted to act on. Right?”
It was only then that Phoenix’s sleep-deprived brain put everything together. Edgeworth was avoiding Phoenix’s gaze, his cheeks faintly flushed. Could it be that he—?
“N-no, actually, I wanted to…uh, they’re genuine desires.”
“I see.” Edgeworth watched him in silence for what felt like an eternity, trailing his eyes up and down Phoenix’s body. “In that case, move your chair over here.”
Phoenix’s mouth hung open. Was he imagining this? Dreaming? No, he couldn’t have conjured up the way Edgeworth was looking at him right now, the hunger in his eyes. “Y-yes, sir,” he ventured, complying with Edgeworth’s request.
“Good,” he murmured, stroking Phoenix’s cheek with the back of his hand.
Tentatively at first, then more confidently once a whimper escaped Phoenix’s mouth, Edgeworth kissed his neck. A rush of euphoria overtook Phoenix—after all the ways in which he’d imagined Edgeworth kissing him, touching him, fucking him, he was finally feeling the warmth of Edgeworth’s body radiating from him, the softness of his lips on Phoenix’s taut neck. He never could have imagined it’d feel this good.
“Now,” Edgeworth continued into Phoenix’s ear, “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to text Ema and tell her you need a bit more time, say twenty minutes. You’re going to encourage her to get something to eat on the way, and that you’ll reimburse her—I’ll pay for that, of course. And in the meantime…” His fingers grazed Phoenix’s stomach, trailing downward.
“You’re going to tell me about these fantasies of yours. In detail.”