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It’s getting late at the Prosecutor’s Building, nearly pitch black outside save for the street lamps and the fleeting headlights of lonely cars. The corners of Miles Edgeworth’s office are dark, his face and desk illuminated by a single lamp that highlights his heavy bangs with gold. The man is hunched (rather uncomfortably) over important-looking documents, pen in unmoving hand.
He’s utterly stumped.
And he’s thinking so hard that he didn’t even register the sound of his door opening, hasn’t even noticed the man clad in shades of blue, who gazes at him longingly from the other side of the room. Taking in his haloed form, just for a moment. Shaking his head with a fond and knowing smile.
He finally allows himself to disrupt the peace, and with his free hand he gently raps his knuckles against the doorframe with a soft, “Hey.”
Edgeworth’s head jolts up immediately, eyes wide, and then squints to see past the shadows. Recognition. And then his gaze softens.
“Wright. Apologies, I didn’t hear you come in.” The corner of his lip quirks up a tad, and he leans back in his chair, momentarily forgetting the file in front of him.
“It’s no problem, Edgeworth.” Phoenix takes a few steps forward, and closes the door behind him. “It’s almost eleven. Did you eat yet?”
A familiar, twisting feeling settles in Miles’ stomach. He frowns. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t. I must’ve lost track of time-“ He starts, before Phoenix presents a large paper bag, with fancy cursive on the front, holding it forward.
”Well, you’re lucky I brought extra.” The attorney grins, already setting it down on the low table next to the sofa. Miles sighs in (mostly) mock exasperation, but rises from his chair.
“You brought Meyer’s.” Miles paused, observing the bag.
”Mhm.”
”... My favorite deli place,” He continues
”Yep,” says Phoenix, popping the “p”.
”Meyers is at least a mile in the opposite direction of your office from here. And they can get a bit expensive.” The prosecutor quirked a brow, fighting the urge to cross his arms.
“... Yes?” Phoenix met his gaze now, confused, takeout half unpacked on the table. Miles huffed out a clipped sigh.
“Wright, if you need something from me, you know you don’t have to-“
”What? No, no—“ Phoenix stops what he’s doing, body turning toward Miles in his seat. “No. Edgeworth, I just won a really tough case-“
”Which I must commend you for, by the way. You did well, as always.”
”I-“ Phoenix flushed- “Wow, uh... Thank you.” He blinked, and then quickly recomposed himself, “But— what I was saying is, I’m feeling really good today, I had some extra cash to blow, and I have some downtime between cases, so... I figured I’d come and ease your night a bit. So yes. I got Meyer’s because I knew you’d be here late, working, and hungry.”
Miles’ heart skips a few beats. The next breath he takes is thin, hard to draw. He swallows thickly, and glances away. His fingers twitch, wanting to reach for his opposite arm, but he keeps them at his sides.
The silence is awkward, but it barely lasts.
”Thank you. That truly means a lot to me.”
”Of course, Miles.” Phoenix beams, and taps the empty spot on the couch next to him. “Now c’mere. I think I memorized your usual.”
He had. They chowed down for a while, talking idly about this and that, and then Miles brought over the case file from his desk, and they discussed. Both of them bent over the coffee table, in the dim light, with discarded beeswax wrappers and near-empty takeout boxes framing their work. Their knees are pressed together, but they almost don’t notice, engrossed in the case.
”They haven’t been able to find it, and yet both witnesses say it was there. It’s been frustrating me all evening.” Miles sighs, leaning back against the cushions. Their jackets are folded over the arm of the sofa, sleeves rolled up to their elbows.
“Mmm. And the suspect?”
”The suspect...” Miles considered it. “The suspect, I’m starting to believe might actually be innocent,” he said finally.
”Well, tomorrow’s the second day, yeah?”
”Correct.”
Phoenix grins. “I’ll come in and watch, then. Maybe I’ll pick up on a few things that you won’t.”
His tone is playful. Just as playfully (or as much as he can muster), Edgeworth rolls his eyes.
“Sure,” he says, a bit sarcastically. He drops it a moment later. “Truly, though, you just might. I would appreciate your input.”
Phoenix, gently and affectionately, elbows Miles’ side. “You got it.”
The prosecutor shakes his head, hoping his bangs shadow the smile on his face. He begins to clean the table. “You know, Wright,” he begins, “I do wonder...”
”Hm?”
”Why is it that whenever you get a break from... All this,” he says, gesturing vaguely toward the case file, “Rather than allowing yourself some rest, you instead... come to me. Each time, you wind up in my office.”
By the time he finishes, he realizes it came out as more of an observation than a question, and for a moment he refuses to meet Phoenix’s eyes, unsure of what emotion they might carry.
Phoenix, on the other hand, sits with his hands folded, wondering why his face feels so warm. “Well, I-“ He begins, trying not to let the silence drag on too long, before realizing he doesn’t know how to respond. He chews at his bottom lip. “I mean, why do you ask?”
Miles met his gaze, finally. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy your company,” he says “However, whenever you have free time and Trucy is away, you’re here. And normally under these exact circumstances - late at night. You have very little work, I’m sure, so why aren’t you at home sleeping?”
Phoenix ponders this. His eyes fall to his thumbs, twiddling away in his lap, as he tries to encourage more thought. “Well, first of all, you’re my best friend. I like spending time with you-“
”But it’s late, so it’s at your own expense-“
”Hey, I’m not done. And you work, constantly, at your own expense, which is why I’m here,” Phoenix points out, gaze hardening slightly. “Edgeworth, I’m here because I think about you, and because I know you. I couldn’t sleep, I thought about you, and I knew exactly where you’d be and what you’d be up doing,” he explained.
There’s something behind those eyes. Passionate, and yet soft. Miles feels himself melt under that gaze, and knows he will time and time again in the future. He had seen a similar look before, ages ago, through a pane of glass, and much more frantic. The memory itches at the back of his mind, but for now, does not emerge.
“I... See,” is all he says.
Phoenix sighs in slight exasperation, closing the case file in front of them. “Look, Edg- Miles.”
The soft utterance of his name grasps his attention quickly.
“You tell me that I would be better off resting. But I... I rest easiest with you, or knowing that you’re well.”
Miles can feel his heartbeat in his ears. He gently nods for Phoenix to continue.
”I... I always tell you that you’re my best friend.” The fight leaves the attorney suddenly. It’s replaced with something much more sincere. “But sometimes I’m not sure if you really know what that means.” He purses his lips, and averts his eyes. “So I try my best to show you. And, in a way, it makes me feel like I can repay all the good you’ve done for me.”
Miles inhales shakily. “Wright-“
”Phoenix.”
”Phoenix,” He corrects himself, breathily, hands resting on his knees and now, his fingertips digging slightly into the fabric. “You don’t need to repay me for anything—“
“I know.” Phoenix’s hand settles over Edgeworth’s. The prosecutor’s gaze snaps up to meet with the other’s, but he can’t hold it for long. Their faces are closer now, and Phoenix seems so intense. His heart races. He feels... uncertain.
“... But I want to,” says Phoenix, finally. At Edgeworth’s lack of response, he frowns. “Hey, Miles— are you alright?” He inches closer, trying to get a look at him, and Miles pulls away abruptly.
”No-! Yes, I mean, I- mmph.” His elbows come to rest on his knees, and his hands come up to hide his eyes and parts of his cheeks, flushed pink.
”Hey—“ Phoenix gingerly places a hand on Miles’ back, but the prosecutor stiffens, and he reluctantly pulls it away. “Edgeworth, what’s wrong? I’m sorry if I—“
”Phoenix Wright, I absolutely despise it when you do this to me.”
”You d-“ The defense attorney’s eyes widen in shock. “Despise—?! When I do what?”
Edgeworth makes a choked noise, trying to keep himself from fidgeting. He’s said too much. His skin feels hot. He feels— mortified, is the first word that comes to mind, but it isn’t right. There isn’t a pit of morbid realization in his stomach, and there’s hardly any fear. No, this is a completely different kind of unease entirely.
Flustered, his mind supplies.
He feels tears prick at the back of his eyes and presses his hands against his face a little harder.
“Miles, please, just. Talk to me. Or look at me, even.” Phoenix sounds somewhat pained.
Miles pulls his hands away from his eyes, and his palms are thankfully dry. He draws in a deep breath to compose himself. “I’m sorry,” he says first.
Wright purses his lips. “I mean, I don’t know what the hell for, but I forgive you—“
The words die in his throat as Miles finally looks his way again.
His face is flushed, and his eyes are rimmed with red and just slightly glossy. He won’t make eye contact— his gaze is elsewhere, in some nondescript corner of the room. His mouth is pressed into a line, but he seems to be fighting it from turning downwards.
And he’s beautiful, Phoenix decides, before concern wins over immediately, and he feels himself reaching out. Miles catches him by the wrists, gently, but doesn’t quite swat him away,
“Phoenix, I care for you,” He admits, voice surprisingly even. He didn’t think it would have happened like this. He didn’t think it’d happen at all. “In... In more ways than one. And it bothers me, because I know I don’t deserve it—“
Phoenix scoffs. “That’s bullshit-!”
”Listen.” Miles whispers firmly. “I don’t deserve it, and yet you shower me with these... affections, and each time it just makes me wonder—“ he swallows, and suddenly it’s not too easy to breathe “-makes me believe in impossible things, makes me think that—“
“What, that I love you?”
Miles goes very still.
Phoenix frowns. “Is that what you’re telling me right now, Miles? That... That you love me?” He pauses, and then adds, “romantically?”
Edgeworth’s grip tightens around the attorney’s wrists, and Phoenix huffs and pries himself out of the mans grip. For a fleeting moment, his hands grasp empty, dead air, and then warm hands gingerly cup either side of his face, tilting him upward again.
Wright searches his expression, briefly. Miles is surprised to find a slight smile on his face. It comforts him, and he allows his body to un-tense a bit when the attorney meets his eyes again.
“Is this alright?” He murmurs.
“Mmm.”
”Could... Could I maybe, um—“
Miles practically leaps, his idle hands reaching up to tangle into dark hair. He hears Phoenix inhale sharply when their lips lock together. Something in Miles shatters, but rather than devastated, he feels free. He kisses Phoenix with uncontainable vigor, with years of stolen looks and hidden adoration and utter longing behind it, years of telling himself that he can’t, not now, that it’s not the right time, that he’ll never feel the same. There is an odd feeling of pain to it, a dull ache that resonates deep in his chest. One that wonders why it took this long, it fears if it won’t last, and yet it presses on excitedly for more.
And Phoenix kisses him back like he means it.
His hands are all over, first on his face and then the back of his neck, and then he’s pulling Miles closer by the waist. Before he can even comprehend it, Miles’ back is pressed against the arm of the sofa, and Phoenix hovers slightly over him, breath labored. And as he said, he knows Miles, and he does little more than press chaste, soothing kisses to Miles’ face, jaw and neck, and his hands remain threaded in his hair.
Miles doesn’t realize he’s been crying until he lets out a quiet, choked sob.
“Hey— heyheyhey-“ Phoenix pulls back immediately, brow furrowed in worry. He wipes at Miles’ tears with gentle hands. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I-“
Miles covers Phoenix’s hand with his own. “No. I’m fine, you’ve done nothing wrong, Phoenix, I just...” He lets out a wet laugh. “I suppose I’m more happy than I can bear at the moment.”
Phoenix exhales in relief, and sits up straight again, untangling their legs and pulling Edgeworth into a tight hug. Miles hums and allows himself to bury his face into the juncture between Phoenix’s neck and shoulder. The attorney’s fingertips trace shapes along his back. Eventually, he calms.
“... You’re right,” he says after a while. Phoenix’s movements still.
“About what?”
“I love you,” he clarifies.
Miles feels the arms around him pull him closer. He lets out a small, contented noise.
“I love you,” Phoenix returns, voice just above a whisper. “God, I... I have for years. Maybe a decade.”
Miles silently agrees.
When they pull away, Phoenix pulls a handkerchief from the pocket of his waistcoat and wipes at the damp areas of Miles’ face. The prosecutor sniffles, and gasps softly
”Oh, god, your suit-“
”Relax. I can afford dry cleaning now,” Phoenix chuckles, pulling his hand away to press another quick peck to the other man’s lips. Miles finds himself just barely chasing him as he pulls away.
When his face is clean and he can breathe easier, it’s nearly one in the morning.
It gets as late as two before they finally part to go home and sleep, but not before they make plans for a date the next day.