Work Text:
Miles Edgeworth was not the type of man who hired escorts.
He was a prosecutor; a damned good one at that. Some regarded him as a professional at his job, a master of gaining convictions no matter the cost. Others regarded him as a cunt. Miles took both as compliments.
But never did he suspect he’d be here, knocking on the door of a dingy motel room, his jacket pulled high over his head. God forbid someone saw him here. What would they think? Miles Edgeworth, fit for the Ritz Carleton, or a Four Seasons at the very least. Not Lazy-Stay Motel, paying by the hour. The last hotel he’d stayed at had a champagne service, for christ’s sake. Not women chain-smoking in the damp lobby.
Miles didn’t choose the hotel, heavens no. But the escort insisted it’d be best, heeding Miles’s proper reputation. He suspected the other guests hadn’t picked up a newspaper in ages, allowing him to slink by in obscurity. At least, that’s what Miles hoped, prayed for.
He knocked on the motel room door once more, his movements ginger. The door swung open to reveal a man, no older than his 30s, face scuffed with stubble and creases of age. He wore a shirt much too small for him, outlining all the dips and rivets of his taunt figure, all the way down to his tightly-packed waist. Miles wasn’t sure why he was so surprised—the man had sex for a living. Part of the resume was to be, albeit, incredibly attractive.
“Are you Miles?” The man spoke, leaning against the door frame. Only then did Miles notice the size of his arms. And those hands…
“Uh, Mr. Edgeworth, yes.” Miles corrected the man, finding it hard to piece together a proper sentence. His mouth felt dry, so incredibly dry, and his breath had hitched in his throat at the sight of the other man.
“Mr. Edgeworth.” The man smiled, opening the door wider. Beckoning Miles to come in. “Are you the Edgeworth I’ve seen in the news?”
Miles didn’t answer him, hesitantly stepping into the room. It wasn’t disgusting, but it was no Ritz Carleton; the bed seemed clean enough, and there was a TV mounted on the wall. If he chickened out of sex, maybe the two of them could watch rugby together. A chuckle tugged at his lips at the very thought.
“This is completely confidential, Mr. Edgeworth,” The man continued, closing the door behind him. “Anything said or done in this room does not leave.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Miles mused, removing his coat and draping it against the back of a chair. It’d be dry-cleaned immediately after this, no doubt. “I am a prosecutor, after all.”
The man’s smile shifted, shedding its artificial front. Now laid something deeper, more genuine. “What is a big prosecutor like yourself doing with me tonight?”
Miles’s nerves returned tenfold. What was he doing tonight? It was completely uncharacteristic of him to be so… well… debased. Debauched. Lowering himself down to the bottom rung of man, paying a stranger to take his mind off of work for a few hours. There was no shame in the truth, yet Miles hesitated nonetheless.
“It’s… been a while since I was last with someone.” He sighed, sitting down on the bed. The man sat next to him. “Work has been endless, and… I’m looking for an escape. Something to help me relax, I suppose.”
The creases around the man’s eyes deepened, his eyes dark with understanding. “Of course, Mr. Edgeworth. I’m at your disposal for the evening.”
“And you are…?”
“Phoenix.”
“Phoenix.” Miles repeated. His eyes dipped down to Phoenix’s body once more, letting himself bask in the slopes of the other man’s build. Just the thought of that tan skin, spread across the sheets, pressed against Miles in heated harmony—
Yeah, this wasn’t going to be hard to get into.
“What would you like me to do to you tonight?” Phoenix said, acting more as a demand than a question. His tone had darkened, roughened, snagging the soft underbelly of Miles’s unsuspecting lust. Miles’s skin flushed at the thought, struggling to catch his words before they clattered to the floor in a mess of syllables.
“Oh… well…” Miles was rarely speechless, and even more rarely ashamed of his own thoughts. Though ashamed wasn’t the right term, no. Nor was embarrassed.
Miles was pink. Pink with humiliation, and glee, and the partaking of everything his pride didn’t allow.
“I… I want to be controlled.” He murmured, feeling bare beneath the unabashed gaze of the other man. Miles shifted his weight on the bed, attempting to ignore the warmth the spread through his pelvis. “I want you to take control. I want to be mindless.”
He was so horny it hurt. The heat that coated his body doubled at Phoenix’s reaction, temperature rising as he was stared at with plain want. With hunger. It felt as if Phoenix was going to bend him over and fuck him right there, pants bunched around his feet, face pressed into the sheets. At this point, he’d welcome it.
Instead, Phoenix cusped the back of Miles’s neck, his hand like the dip of a flame to Miles’s blazing skin. It was a silent question, one that required a silent response. Miles leaned in.
He was swept in a chaste kiss, melting into Phoenix’s gentle touch. There was something tantalizing about being held like this; delicately, the promise of force and strength balanced within Phoenix’s fingertips. Miles’s muscles relaxed, welcoming the tightening grip around his free hand. Trapped, yet it felt so good.
Phoenix deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against Miles’s lips. He parted them, allowing Phoenix to take him, take what he wanted. The escort tasted like mint. Clean. The persnickety part of Miles’s brain hummed with delight.
The brush of stubble against his chin was enough to make Miles delirious, slowly hardening beneath the ministrations of the larger man. He hadn’t realized that Phoenix had pinned him to the bed, his weight pressing him into the shitty mattress. Fuck. He was so strong. Ideas of being tossed around and crushed filled Miles’s deteriorating mind.
Then Phoenix reached down to palm at Miles’s erection, and every idea he’d ever had was lost.
“Oh-“ A shudder ran through Miles’s body, ramping from 50 to 100 in a split second. His cock jerked at the sudden attention, begging for more love, more lavishing. For Phoenix to wrap those insanely hot lips around him and suck him dry. “Not y-yet. It’s just been… it’s been awhile.”
“Sorry.” Phoenix murmured, his breath hot against Miles’s glistening lips. Somehow, he was even more heavenly towering over Miles, his dark hair falling into his face, shadows cast across his heavy eyes. “We’ll take it slower.”
Miles let himself be pulled into another kiss, hands pinned above his head. Yeah, slower. Kissing was good. Kissing made Miles hard. Kissing with Phoenix the hot escort made Miles insanely hard.
Phoenix moved down to mouth at Miles’s neck, sending heat tumbling down his body to pool in his groin. He nipped softly at the sensitive skin around Miles’s collarbones, kissing and licking in increasingly obscenity. Being treated like this was something Miles could get used to. His pride seemed to disagree. His tongue didn’t.
“Speak to me.” Miles blurted out, staring up at Phoenix in desperation. “Tell me dirty things. I- I want you to degrade me.”
Phoenix paused, grinning against Miles’s neck. For a moment, Miles felt utterly ridiculous. What business would an escort have degrading their client? Didn’t that go against the whole idea of the practice—to please those who paid?
“You’re just about the neediest client I’ve ever had.” Phoenix’s voice had grown husky, jagged around the edges. Filled with lust and desire and everything that made Miles whimper, but he couldn’t. He was better than that. So he thought.
“You’re hard enough to cut diamond and we’ve barely begun,” Phoenix continued, pressing a soft kiss against Miles’s cheek. “Slutty little prosecutor can’t take what he paid for. You’ll be able to handle a big cock, won’t you?”
A greedy moan slipped past Miles’s lips before he could stop it. The very thought had him throbbing, begging to be mounted and stroked to release. To cum while Phoenix held him against the bed, spilling over himself in fervent bliss. But Miles knew himself well enough to hold off, to build this up to something better than making out. He may be wealthy, yes, but there was something so wholly shameful about wasting this much money on an escapade likened to a highschool handjob. Especially with a man like Phoenix.
“You’re desperate for it.” Phoenix continued. Only now did Miles notice the bulge in Phoenix’s pants, wishing for nothing more than to close the space between them and feel his erection against Miles’s own. Languid kisses had halted all together, replaced with the filth Phoenix continued to whisper in his ear. “You might as well bend over and present yourself to me, hm? Make my job much easier.”
Miles didn’t answer. How could he answer? His face had never been redder, blushing so furiously he had to cover his face. Yet Phoenix didn’t budge from where he’d trapped Miles’s wrists, leaving Miles to hide his face in his shoulder bashfully. Phoenix chuckled above him.
A whine threatened to burst from Miles’s lips when Phoenix pulled away, sitting on his haunches. He was quickly silenced as Phoenix pulled his shirt off his head, revealing an incredibly toned chest. Miles couldn’t peel his eyes from the dark coils of hair dusting his chest, his nipples perked in the cold air of the motel room, the soft trail of hair that disappeared beneath his the waistline of his pants. God, he was gorgeous. Miles could barely fathom being fucked by him.
“Let me undress you,” Phoenix said quietly, clasping the buttons on Miles’s shirt clumsily. Where Miles would chastise anyone else for being so careless with his clothing, he couldn’t find the words now. Part of him was hoping Phoenix would rip his shirt right off him.
The first gust of cold air hit Miles’s burning skin like a slap, a reminder of where they were. Phoenix continued. “I want to feel every inch of you against me.”
“Please,” The plead spilled from Miles’s mouth before he could stop it, rendering him the image of everything he was. Desperate. Wanton. Mindless. Everything he needed so badly, and everything he’d ever denied himself.
“Please what?”
“Please…” Miles swallowed hard, his cheeks aflame with humiliation. “Please fuck me.”
Phoenix hummed in approval, working open the final buttons of Miles’s shirt. He felt as if he’d melt beneath Phoenix’s steady touch, drawn to further desperation with ever brush against his bare skin.
“Why should I fuck you?” Phoenix smirked, more to himself than anyone else. “You’re a big, important prosecutor. Couldn’t you find anyone else to fill your needy hole?”
Miles mewled at the thought. His cock, which had been so rudely neglected, tented his pants, begging to be touched. Every tease, every taunt went straight to his groin, filling his head with grandiose ideas of his coworkers seeing him like this. Reduced to nothing more than a pleading mess of a man, untouched and yet so far gone. It was embarrassing. And it felt so good.
“All you’d have to do is be a good boy and beg like this,” Phoenix continued to undress Miles, hooking his fingers through the waistband of Miles’s pants. “Everyone would be lining up to see you, all red and shy. Practically drooling for it.”
With a swift tug, Phoenix slid off Miles’s pants and underwear. His cock jerked against his bare stomach, blushing nearly as furiously as he was, beading with precum at the tip. Phoenix’s gaze darkened, his unwavering attention only deepening the sea of red across Miles’s face.
“You need it…” Phoenix murmured. It was nothing more than a statement, a testament to how far gone Miles already was. With his wrists now freed, Miles hid his face in his hands, suddenly unable to face the proof that his body ached to be touched. It wasn’t like him, being this wanton. But months without pleasure will do that to a man.
“Big Mr. Prosecutor, all hard and leaking for me,” Phoenix pressed his thumb to the head of Miles’s cock, spreading his precum around the slit. Miles sobbed at the sudden sensation. “Tell me what you need.”
“I… I need it…” Miles said, suddenly milquetoast at the amusement in Phoenix’s voice. He stifled another whine when Phoenix removed his hand, tutting in disapproval.
“You’ll have to be more specific than that.”
Miles’s breath hitched in his throat, so overcome with arousal that he could no longer hide it. The thought of babbling such filth made him crawl with shame, his cock betraying his defiance with its throb. He dropped his voice to a near whisper, squeezing his eyes shut when Phoenix pried away the hands covering his face. “I… I need your cock in me, please,”
Phoenix rewarded him with a full stroke, taking him in his big hand, base to tip. That earned another sob from Miles, hips jerking up into Phoenix’s touch of their own volition.
“So lewd.” Phoenix purred, his voice accompanied by the gentle slap of skin against skin. “You’re a slut and you can’t even admit it.”
“I‘m not a slut,” Miles mumbled, heat rising to his cheeks. He didn’t cover his eyes this time, instead opting to watch Phoenix’s languid strokes, as if he hoped to draw every inch of pleasure out of Miles.
“Yes you are.” Phoenix said matter-of-factly. “I bet I could pull out my cock right now and have you drooling all over it, hm? Just begging me to stuff you and shut you up with it.”
Miles shook his head fervently, but the enthusiastic blurt of precum from his cock said otherwise. He was beginning to ache from the gentle pressure, Phoenix’s touch so light and teasing that it made his head swim with lust. He needed to be fucked. He needed to be reduced to nothing more than a whimpering mess, a tight hole to use.
Phoenix leaned into Miles, his hand motionless on the smaller man’s cock. He was so close Miles could smell the cologne on his neck, could see the sweat beaded across his chest. Something animalistic in Miles wanted to bite down on Phoenix’s sweet muscle, to taste and lick and kiss the hard slopes of his body. Instead, Miles laid there, shivering at the sensation of warm breath against the shell of his ear.
“How about you come ride my cock, and we can both see how much of a slut you are, hm?” Phoenix said lowly, his voice dripping with honey. “Big Mr. Prosecutor, bouncing on a stranger’s cock like he’s never been fucked in his life… what would the papers say?”
“Please…” Miles cried. His blush had spread throughout his body, his pale chest alive with hues of pinks and red. He could hardly fathom what others would think now; not that it mattered much to him at this point. Especially when Phoenix was undressing in front of him, throwing his pants aside carelessly, then his underwear. Miles’s jaw went slack.
Phoenix was thick, his cock curved slightly upwards, pelvis shadowed by dark curls that led up into his happy trail. Miles drank in the sight of him, looking as if he’d just stepped out of a beach-themed porno, or one of those lascivious calendars marketed towards single mothers. Suddenly, Miles understood their appeal.
A smirk clung to Phoenix’s face, no exchange of words needed to know what Miles was thinking. The prosecutor watched intently as Phoenix ripped open the condom wrapper and rolled it on, grabbing the lube from where it sat on the motel desk. Miles hadn’t noticed it before.
“Come be a good boy and ride my dick for me,” Phoenix sat against the headboard, patting his lap. All Miles could think about was those tanned thighs, keening at the name.
Miles hovered above Phoenix’s lap, knees pressed on each side of the escort, gripping his shoulders for stability. The position made Miles feel a bit silly, a feeling that was quickly remedied by leaning down and silently demanding a kiss. Phoenix rewarded him with one.
The snap of the lube cap made Miles shiver, his eyes heavy with want as he took in every detail of Phoenix’s upper half. The stubble was an incredible turn-on, despite Miles’s usual qualms with facial hair. Set against Phoenix’s sharp jaw, his strong nose, the soft creases hiding in the corners of his dark eyes… the man was beautiful, Miles decided. Another deep kiss was in order.
“Stop distracting me,” Phoenix mouthed against Miles’s jaw, gripping his hips with so much determination Miles nearly collapsed. Then came a prodding finger against his hole, and every muscle in Miles’s body tensed, the sensation slightly foreign. It was much different when Miles was preparing himself in the privacy of his own room, biting his lip to keep the neighbours from prying. Damn condo owners.
He eased into Phoenix’s touch, groaning with discomfort at the slight stretch as Phoenix pushed a finger in. Miles’s gripped Phoenix’s shoulders for dear life, his thighs burning as Phoenix added a second finger, working him open.
“You’re tight,” Phoenix said to no one in particular. A slight curl of his fingers, and Miles’s softening cock jumped to attention once more, a whimper working its way out of him.
“S’good,” Miles mumbled, his breath stuttering as a third finger was added. Then, all were removed. The sudden loss of sensation and the subsequent silence made Miles’s shame come crawling back, his head rushing with thoughts of humiliation.
Then the blunt head of Phoenix’s cock pressed against his hole, and Miles’s head went blank. He whined loudly, a noise so needy that it surprised even him. Phoenix shushed him softly.
“There you go, taking me in,” Phoenix cooed, letting the other man ease onto him slowly. Miles’s brows were drawn tight, the picture of concentration and pleasure. Then, once fully sheathed, came wordless bliss.
He was so full. Miles started with small movements, focusing on the drag of Phoenix’s cock against his hole, and the stretch that was felt throughout his lower half. He rocked his hips, aware of Phoenix’s hungry eyes washing over him. It was nice, being wanted this much. Even if it may be for show.
Miles couldn’t focus on the complications of escort-client relationships, especially when Phoenix grabbed his hips once more, forcing Miles down on his cock. A sob clawed its way up from Miles’s throat, his vision swimming at the pleasure that filled him.
“There’s a good boy,” Phoenix purred, watching with glossy eyes as Miles began to bounce on his lap. The praise only fueled Miles’s eagerness, the sweat and heat and scent of the room all culminating in the melt of his mind, succumbing to the pleasure. To what he needed.
“You take cock so well,” Phoenix’s hips met with Miles’s in their rhythm, their chests falling in union. “Moaning so pretty with a cock buried in you… you really are a slut, Mr. Edgeworth.”
“I-I’m a slut,” Miles sobbed, tears of shame and mindlessness pricking at his eyes. He was a slut. There was no denying it.
“Tell me what you were made for, pretty boy,” Phoenix growled. Precum dribbled from Miles’s slit.
“Cock, I was made for cock,” Miles babbled, mewling when he angled his hips just right. “I-I was made to be fucked, I’m a slut for it, I am.”
“Such a dirty slut,” Phoenix wrapped his hand around Miles’s dick, the disapproval in his voice going straight to Miles’s head. “So hungry for cock, you had to pay for it. You just couldn’t get enough of it, could you?”
“No, no, I needed it so bad,” Miles gasped, his orgasm creeping up on him. His cheeks were wet with tears and sweat, his bangs clinging to his forehead as he let himself be bounced like a ragdoll on Phoenix’s lap. A toy. Mindless and happy, satisfied now that his hole was stuffed.
Phoenix toyed with Miles’s cock carelessly, his big, warm hand taking Miles in eager strokes. The temperature in the room seemed to have risen twenty degrees, warmth slathered thick across both men’s skin. Miles felt a familiar pressure build in his lower half, suddenly all too aware that he was about to finish.
“I- Phoenix, I’m cumming!“ Miles cried, burying his face in his shoulder as his orgasm swept him off his feet. Phoenix pumped his cock thoroughly, watching with dark eyes as Miles rode out the final waves of his orgasm. Every last drop of energy had been milked from his body, chest heaving with exertion, panting softly. For a few moments, only Miles and Phoenix existed, everything else lost to the heat of their bodies. Then, Miles was rudely pulled back to reality as the AC started up once more.
The shame of the situation hit as the cold air seeped into Miles’s skin, suddenly all too aware that he was sitting on an escort’s dick, completely naked, in a low-rate motel. That, and the fact that Phoenix was still completely hard within him.
“Wow… that was…” Miles dipped his head in embarrassment, shivering when Phoenix pushed his bangs out of his eyes. He eased himself off of Phoenix’s cock, too ashamed to meet the other man’s eyes. Phoenix only watched Miles quietly.
“I… um… do you want help… uh… finishing?” Miles could barely get the words out, his angry blush making a reappearance.
“No, no. I can take care of that once you’ve left, Mr. Edgeworth.” Gah. Professional as ever.
“Do… do you think I’ll be able to… um… see you again?” Miles felt foolish, all naked and flushed, asking Phoenix if they could do this again. Then again, he hadn’t felt that good in months. For a slight period of time, not one thought concerning work had crossed his mind.
“Of course. You know how to find me.” Then Phoenix winked, and Miles’s stomach toppled all over again, bringing his hand to cover his burning face. This was an encounter he’d be thinking of for weeks to come, for sure. In the bedroom, the shower, the office… Miles didn’t know how he’d go on without seeing Phoenix the hot escort again.
“You’ve paid for the entire night, Mr. Edgeworth. I can stay if you’d like.”
“Oh... well,” Miles sat down next to Phoenix, the bed springs creaking under his weight. “Turn on the television, will you? There’s a rugby game on tonight.”
