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Midnight

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Phoenix wakes up. He’s not sure what wakes him but, when he opens his eyes, the room is dark except for the moon outside the window and the television playing a DVD menu on loop. Ah. He and Miles had settled on the couch after dinner for a movie. He must have fallen asleep sometime after the second or third explosive car chase.

Groggily, he grabs the remote and turns the television off. It makes the room suddenly very quiet, the sort of quiet found in the middle of the night, when the rest of the world is sleeping. Phoenix glances to the digital clock in the kitchen. 11.59.

Starting to feel more awake, he glances at the other side of the couch. Miles Edgeworth, still dressed in his waistcoat and cravat, is sound asleep on his couch. Phoenix can’t stop the grin on his face. Now this is a rare sight indeed. Has anyone else seen Miles Edgeworth like this, without his calm and put together exterior, carefully constructed to keep people at a distance?

Looking at Edgeworth’s face, softened by sleep, Phoenix feels incredibly lucky. It’s new, this thing between them. Delicate in many ways and at the same time natural, just an extension of the years they’ve known each other. They’ve been dating for a couple of weeks, though after over a decade of chasing Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix is not sure the word “dating” does their history much justice. It’s been scary and wonderful all at once. Wonderful, because he has always wanted to be by Edgeworth’s side and now he’s as close as anyone could get. Scary, because now that he knows what it’s like, he doubts he’ll ever be able to live anywhere else ever again.

Phoenix doesn’t often get the chance, so he takes the moment to just look at Edgeworth. The gentle slope of his nose, the angle of his cheekbones. His skin is pale and his hair almost silvery in the moonlight. It makes the breath catch in his throat, how beautiful Edgeworth looks now in the half-light, the man whom Phoenix has loved for the longest time.

He brings up a hand to touch the side of Edgeworth’s face: the line of his jaw, the gentle crease at the edge of his eyes. Unable to resist, Phoenix leans over and kisses him. Always a light sleeper, Phoenix knows that even this light touch is enough to wake him up. When he pulls back, he sees Edgeworth’s eyes are open. He stares at Phoenix’s face, cutely confused, and blinks slowly a couple of times as he wakes up.

“Hey you.” Phoenix murmurs and kisses him again, soft and sweet. Edgeworth hesitates a fraction of a second, then leans in closer, humming a little when Phoenix deepens the kiss.

Phoenix has never thought of himself as a particularly affectionate person. However by way of contrast, Edgeworth could be considered positively cold. Not from a lack of feeling, no; Phoenix suspects that Edgeworth feels a lot more than he lets one, but rather a hesitancy born from always keeping people at arm’s length. But here now, alone together, Edgeworth is nothing like that. One of his hands reach up to touch the side of Phoenix’s neck and pull him closer. Edgeworth’s mouth opens under his and Phoenix feels the soft swipe of his tongue. It feels a lot like intent, which Phoenix is more than on board with.

Phoenix brings his hands to the front of Edgeworth’s shirt. Last time they did this Phoenix, despite his great determination and persistence couldn’t, untie Edgeworth’s cravat. Eventually, Edgeworth had just taken over and unravelled the damn thing, like it was simple, lest Phoenix actually resort to tearing things. This time Phoenix gets the knack of it (thanks to some research beforehand) and the white cloth comes loose. Phoenix pulls it away, triumphant, and throws it over his shoulder without caring where it lands. Edgeworth glares a little, like Phoenix knew he would, but the frown quickly smoothes over once he starts unbuttoning Edgeworth’s shirt. Phoenix leans in to continue the kiss, open-mouthed and intense. It makes Edgeworth sigh and his hands tug Phoenix closer, until he is straddled across Edgeworth’s lap.

The kiss goes on and on. His skin feels hot everywhere. Edgeworth’s hands move from Phoenix’s shoulders to his hips. His fingers slip under the hem of Phoenix’s t-shirt, stroking lightly and burning hotly against the skin of his back. Phoenix can feel himself getting harder with each touch. It makes him want.

Phoenix finally breaks the kiss, but only to tuck his nose in the curve of Edgeworth’s neck, in that small dark space underneath his collar, and breathe. It smells like Edgeworth’s cologne and underneath that, the slight sharpness of sweat. It drives Phoenix crazy, though he’s not sure Edgeworth would appreciate it for the compliment it is meant to be.

“Wright,” Edgeworth says and this close, his voice sounds low and rumbling. “Are you smelling me?”

“Yep.” Phoenix replies, unrepentant. Then he puts his mouth on the skin there and Edgeworth hisses out a breath, losing whatever retort was on the tip of his tongue.

Phoenix slips his hand down, lower and lower, until he can cup Edgeworth’s hard cock through his slacks. Edgeworth sighs and his head tips back, exposing the line of his neck, which Phoenix can hardly resist. He puts his tongue to Edgeworth’s pulse point; it’s thrumming under his lips. One of Edgeworth’s hands moves to sink in Phoenix’s hair, while the other strokes up under his shirt to his ribs and back down again. Phoenix touches Edgeworth through the fabric, a light teasing pressure.

Prior to this, Phoenix had never been with a man. It had always been a hypothetical for him, but one never thought about too closely and certainly never realised. But since Edgeworth and all of this started...well, it’s easy to say that it occupies a large portion of his fantasies now. They’ve touched each other before, a handful of times; it’s all been good, ridiculously so. Phoenix wants it all and more.

One of Edgeworth’s hand finds Phoenix’s cock and the first touch of his long slender fingers around him makes him gasp. Edgeworth starts to stroke, which distracts Phoenix immensely. His other hand, the one in Phoenix’s hair, gives him a light tug before pulling Phoenix in close again for a filthy kiss.

Just like that, Edgeworth has turned the tables on him and he’s the one who’s close to losing control. Phoenix doesn’t want it to end too soon, not before he can have Edgeworth in the way that has been occupying his thoughts for a good while now.

Phoenix breaks the kiss and moves, shifting until he is kneeling on the carpet in front of the couch, between Edgeworth’s knees. He runs his hands along Edgeworth’s legs all the way up to the waistband of his trousers and stops there.

“Can I?” he asks, breathless and heart hammering beneath his ribs. He’s nervous, never having done this before. But he wants to. He really, really wants to.

“What are you…? Oh.” There’s a charming moment where Edgeworth goes from confused to speechless in a matter of moments.

Phoenix, keeping his eyes locked on Edgeworth’s face, begins to unzip his trousers. Edgeworth doesn’t stop him, seemingly still stunned by what’s happening. Edgeworth’s cock is hard and heavy when Phoenix finally pulls it out from his briefs. Phoenix takes a moment to look, because he hasn’t had a chance to look at it from this angle before. There’s a small dampness at the tip already; it actually makes his mouth water a little. Taking his silence for hesitation, Edgeworth makes a small noise of embarrassment.

“You don’t have to…” he starts, but Phoenix cuts him off.

“I want to,” Phoenix replies, simply, because he has been fantasizing about this for far too long and it’s Edgeworth, how could he not.

Gripping the base with one hand, Phoenix lowers his head until he can lick the head of Edgeworth’s cock with his tongue, tasting the dampness there. It’s Edgeworth’s taste: salty and slightly bitter, like nothing he could have imagined. Edgeworth groans, then quickly muffles the sound with his hand over his mouth.

Phoenix continues to lick and kiss the head of his cock, just enjoying the soft salty taste of his skin and the panting noises Edgeworth is making. After teasing him for a couple more moments, Phoenix finally parts his lips and takes Edgeworth’s length into his mouth. He’s never done this before, but he hopes what he lacks in experience he can make up for in enthusiasm. He can’t take it all, probably won’t be able to without more practice, but he slowly takes into his mouth as much as he can, and wraps his hand around the rest of Edgeworth’s length. Above him, he can hear Edgeworth’s sharp exhale. Taking that as a good sign, Phoenix starts to move his mouth over Edgeworth’s cock, slow at first, then more quickly once he finds a comfortable rhythm. It’s a little awkward (he really doesn’t know what’s he’s doing exactly), but it feels good. His fantasies couldn’t compare to this: the actually feel of Edgeworth’s hard cock slipping through his lips, his taste, his smell, least of all the noises Edgeworth is making. Phoenix feels the ache of his own cock growing too, with each muffled moan.

He wants to see the face Edgeworth’s making. Phoenix pulls away for a moment, letting Edgeworth’s cock slip out from between his lips, shiny wet from his mouth, and looks up at him. Edgeworth is watching him, one hand covering his mouth, some mixture of awe and arousal in his eyes.

“Hey, don’t hide. I want to see your face, Miles. I want to see what you look like when I’m doing this to you.” Phoenix reaches up to pull the hand away from Edgeworth’s face and Edgeworth lets him. His pale cheeks are flushed and his lips look bitten and red; with his cravat gone and shirt open, Edgeworth looks obscene. Phoenix didn’t think he could ever see Edgeworth look this way; he wants to keep making him look like that. Forever.

Phoenix smiles at him faintly. “Keep watching me, okay?” Edgeworth nods, eyes half-lidded with desire. His hands are by his sides now, gripping the couch cushions slightly.

Phoenix settles back on his knees and leans in again to take Edgeworth’s cock back into his mouth. He moves quicker now, losing some finesse, and begins to move his hand at the base of Edgeworth’s cock in the same rhythm as his mouth. At some point, one of Edgeworth’s hands comes to rest the back of Phoenix’s head, not pushing, but a steady encouragement. When Phoenix glances up briefly, Edgeworth is watching his mouth, almost entranced. It’s not long before Edgeworth’s panting is coming quicker, the hand at the back of his head gripping a little more desperately.

“Phoenix, I’m going to--” The warning only makes Phoenix more urgent. He can feel Edgeworth’s cock getting harder in his mouth. He wants it all. Edgeworth’s breath, his moans, his hands, his mouth, his taste. Suddenly, Edgeworth’s whole body goes taut, and Phoenix tastes saltiness on his tongue as he comes. He swallows, greedy, hungry for every part of him. When at last Edgeworth’s finished and there’s nothing left to taste, Phoenix finally pulls back. Edgeworth is looking at him. He looks open and raw, and there’s something else there too, intense and unnamable.

“Phoenix, come here,” is all he says. Phoenix leans up and kisses him, desperately. Edgeworth clings back. All Phoenix wants is to wrap himself up in Edgeworth and never let go.

The first touch of Edgeworth’s hand surprises him; he had almost forgotten about himself in his distraction. Now it comes back into sharp focus, how hard and aching he actually is. Edgeworth’s hand moves over him, making Phoenix see sparks. It doesn’t take much, embarrassingly little in fact, before he is gone, toppling over that precarious edge and spilling helplessly over Edgeworth’s hand. Phoenix groans and buries his face back into that beloved space at Edgeworth’s neck.

“Sorry,” he gasps. “It’s just, you were making those noises and I couldn’t-”

“Phoenix. You don’t need to apologise.” Something in Edgeworth’s voice makes Phoenix pull back to look at him. Edgeworth’s eyes are dark and unreadable in the half-light. Keeping his gaze on Phoenix’s, Edgeworth lifts one hand to his mouth, and licks the mess from his hand. It’s obscene and filthy and more fuel for Phoenix’s fantasies. This Phoenix knows for sure: Miles Edgeworth has ruined him for life.

When he’s done, Phoenix leans in for another kiss, softer this time. When it ends, Phoenix remains where he is, eyes closed, sharing breath. This close, he can feel Edgeworth’s heart beat. He knows he should move. He’s a little bit too big and too old to be curled up in Miles Edgeworth’s lap. But at the same time he is loathe to let go, to put any more distance between them than this.

“Stay the night,” Phoenix says.

A pause, the moment of hesitation. Then, a gentle hand cards through his hair.

“Yes. All right.” When Phoenix opens his eyes, Edgeworth is smiling at him. Not that small, almost smirk but something rarer and more precious. He looks happy. Phoenix can’t help but smile back.

When at last they stand and disentangle into two separate people once more, Phoenix keeps their hands laced. Phoenix leads them, hands palm to palm, all the way to the bedroom.