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“You’ve never seen Alien..?”
“I’ve never seen Alien, Detective…”
Gumshoe continued to stare incredulously. “But… but it’s a classic, sir!”
“Hmph.”
“You gotta see it!”
Edgeworth did not look particularly convinced. But as the years went on, and their relationship progressed more and more into a casual friendship when off the clock, he found himself once again thawing in the face of that earnest, puppy dog enthusiasm.
“Very well.”
*
They tended to do movie nights at Miles’ house. It made sense - his television was eight times the size of Gumshoe’s. However he wished for a less immersive screen size and surround sound when the first jump scare almost had him hitting the ceiling.
“You OK, sir?”
“I told you not to call me that outside of work…”
“You OK, Miles?”
Clever dick…
“Hehe…” Miles nodded. In truth, he’d never found horror movies to be all that appealing, but the way a heavy arm then wrapped around his shoulder was enough to stifle any criticisms.
“Cuz, if you’re scared, we can put something else on—”
“I’m not scared.”
It wasn’t long before Miles proved that statement wrong with a slurred “Jesus fucking Christ,” nigh on hopping into the detective’s lap.
Gumshoe didn’t say anything, and Miles also said nothing when the arm around him tightened.
And it went on like that for the next half hour - Miles having undignified noises spooked out of him as the detective’s warm and comforting presence closed in further. And it felt… nice. Nicer than nice. And anyway, what was stopping him from just turning his head and pressing his mouth to that strong, stubbled jawline—?
No.
Miles forced his attention back to the movie. Or tried to, at least. Instead his focus wavered, his eyes flicking to Gumshoe every so often. To those big hairy arms — and Miles thanked whatever deity was to answer for the unseasonable heatwave that had forced the both of them into more skin-bearing attire.
And, when he wasn’t stealing glances, the plot of the movie went entirely unheard as a rather ridiculous fantasy began taking shape in his mind instead. If he acted scared — really scared — maybe, just maybe, the big strong man beside him would take Miles further into his arms. Maybe somehow they would end up chest to chest, groins rubbing together along with their tongues—
Stop.
Miles breathed deeply; and froze when another furtive glance Gumshoe’s way resulted in eye contact he hadn’t been expecting.
“You sure you’re ok..?” the detective asked; and yet again with that hangdog expression.
No, I can’t stop picturing you fucking me senseless on this couch, Miles thought very loudly, hoping the man was suddenly telepathic and might rid them both of their trousers in the next five seconds. “I’m fine,” he instead mumbled, making to turn back to the television.
Except a strong hand cupped his jaw, and Miles wondered frantically if he’d really just manifested his sex life into existence.
“You don’t gotta be brave all the time. We can watch something else, sir.”
“I told you to stop calling me that…”
The detective chuckled nervously. “Sorry, force’ve habit…”
“Quite…”
Miles felt his heart judder when Dick’s thumb slowly traced his cheek. And he felt a very obvious pang of arousal when his brain then suggested that he suck on it.
No. That wasn’t happening.
Unless…
No.
Not happening.
“S-Sorry,” Dick jumped, pulling away. Before Miles could say anything, he went on. “Sorry for… y’know.” There was a long pause. “Making it weird.”
Oh?
“Weird, detective?”
There was another protracted silence before the other man spoke. “Y’know…”
Sensing this was the best he was going to get, Miles decided to take the initiative. “Is this—? Are you perhaps… attracted to me, Dick?”
From behind his hands, the detective mumbled what sounded like, “maybe,” until Miles pulled them out of the way, and a very clear “yeah” followed.
“I see.”
Miles had never felt so exhilarated, his mind a-whirr with fanciful scenarios - all of which culminating in sharing his bed tonight with one Detective Gumshoe.
“I can go—”
Sensing his one chance slipping away, Miles let out a rather embarrassingly loud shout of protest, grabbing the detective’s wrist. “I mean… you don’t have to,” he then muttered, stroking it absentmindedly. Was he blushing..? He felt like he was blushing…
That or his recently serviced AC was busted…
It seemed like they were finally past words, Dick’s expression alight with sudden understanding. He moved in tentatively, encouraged when Miles didn’t flinch or pull away.
And then everything happened all at once. Miles was on his back, his legs wrapped around the detective’s waist, and Dick’s tongue was in his mouth.
He let himself become lost in the sensation, hands finding themselves on a wide pair of shoulders. Dick was huge — did that… extend to all areas..?
That train of thought stalled before it could even leave the station as the prosecutor’s fight or flight response activated. Miles was gripped by a very sudden panic. He felt a creeping coldness down the length of his spine as Gumshoe’s hands began to wander.
And then stop.
“S-Sir—? Sorry. Uhh, Miles, are you okay?”
“Perceptive as ever, aren’t you?” Miles said. But there was no bite to it; merely a palpable relief in his voice. “Just what would I do without you, detective?” He then caught himself. “Uhh, I mean Dick.”
“Hehe… not so easy, is it?”
“Quite. At any rate, you deserve an explanation—”
“Aw, that’s not necessary, s—Miles.”
Miles felt some of the warmth return to his body, staring up into those big brown eyes. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t he just enjoy himself without this nagging sense of guilt?
Why couldn’t he just be like everybody else?
“Dick, I’ve only done this once before.” He saw a look of understanding then wash over the other man’s face, and pressed on before Dick could get the wrong idea. “It didn’t end well. In fact, it didn’t even get this far.” Miles made to sit back up — and blushed as Dick helped him in the task, his straining erection evident all the while against the confines of his garish summer shorts.
Miles took a deep breath.
“It started innocently enough. We caught one another’s eye from across the club. Talked for a good while, and seemed to connect. I’ll be honest, I was probably drinking enough to impair my judgement… Had I been sober, there’s no way I would’ve let a stranger drive me to their apartment at one in the morning…” Dick stayed silent, but the worried furrow to his brow said enough. “Nothing happened. Thank god. But the way he looked at me when I told him. Dick, I honestly believed for a minute that… I wasn’t going to make it out of that apartment alive.”
“Sir!” Dick looked horrified.
Miles laughed then humourlessly. “I ran down five flights of stairs before I realised I’d left my shoes behind. Needless to say, I didn’t go back for them, and grabbed the first taxi I could before getting home and making sure all of the doors and windows were locked.”
It was a very long moment before either of them spoke again.
“Dick, I know you’re nothing like that man. I know you would never hurt me. But…” Miles felt like he was going to throw up. “But, truly, I’d rather your anger than your… disappointment.”
“Why would I be disappointed?!” Dick looked wounded. “You could never do anything to disappoint me, sir!”
If the crack in his voice didn’t convince Miles, those puppy dog eyes turning glassy certainly did.
“No. No, of course not,” he conceded, patting the man’s knee. He couldn’t disappoint Dick. He’d tell him. They’d remain friends. This whole thing would just be some weird little…blip. They’d work together. And goof off every now and then when they were off the clock. Things would go back to normal. Eventually.
How stupid of him to think he couldn’t trust Gumshoe. The one constant in his life. It was an insult to the man’s character to think for even a moment that he might react badly.
“Dick, I’ll just come right out and say it. I’m trans.”
The other man looked at him, unblinking.
“That means—”
“I know what that means,” Gumshoe said, cutting him off.
Miles waited, his insides still doing somersaults of dread.
“You remember that one Christmas when you asked me to bring over those case files, and I needed to use the bathroom?”
Miles wondered for a moment if he had sustained whiplash. “I beg your pardon..?” he croaked.
“But your downstairs toilet was being renovated or something, and you said I could use the one upstairs?”
“My en-suite, yes?”
“Well—and I wasn’t snooping—I saw that big shark thingy on your bed on the way to the John.” Miles was suddenly aware of where this was going, damning his sister for that very ‘thoughtful’ gift - that clashed with all of his well thought out decor. “And I thought ‘hey, I’ve seen that thing before’, and it took me ‘til I got home that night to remember that I saw it in IKEA.” The prosecutor could only nod numbly. “Anyway, I couldn’t get to sleep without remembering the name of the darn thing, so I went and looked it up. And then all these websites were saying how it became like a… mascot, so…”
“And… you never, at any point in the years that followed, thought to ask me?”
The look Dick gave him was soft, and a little bashful. “Well… I thought if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me. Wasn’t gonna poke my nose in your business, sir.”
Miles’ heart felt then as though it thumped out of rhythm. Or sped up. He was too giddy, and overcome with fondness to be certain.
“Dick, you truly manage to defy every expectation I think I have of you.”
“Sorry, sir…”
“No, that’s not—! It was a compliment…”
“Oh.”
“Admittedly, I’m not very good at those…”
Dick’s eyes had become a little too intense all of a sudden, and Miles found that he couldn’t quite stare into them without feeling like an anxious teenager.
Before Miles could find the wherewithal to speak, Gumshoe tentatively said, “so… can we go back to the kissing..?”
Miles Edgeworth felt as though he had sustained whiplash again.
“I beg your pardon—?”
“Only, I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time, and, well, you seemed to be enjoying it—”
“An understatement, detective…”
“So, is that a yes..?”
Miles Edgeworth weighed up each and every consequence. And promptly threw them out of the window before relocating himself in the detective’s lap.
“I think you’ll find that is a ‘yes, please’, Dick…”
*
Miles let out a grunt every time the detective bottomed out. Every time those heavy, swinging balls slapped against him with a wet smack. It was so thick. So deep. It should’ve been too much. Miles shouldn’t have been able to take it. But his body had no such compunction for logic, unfurling and accepting whatever Dick deemed fit to stuff inside him. His tongue, his fingers, and now finally his cock.
A cock so ludicrously oversized it verged on pornographic if Miles was being honest. He’d seen smaller novelty dildos that boasted they were gigantic, and that was saying something given the oversaturated market.
He could feel every vein; the slide as Dick’s foreskin pulled back with each thrust; the scratch and tickle of those coarse pubes. He was in heaven, unthinking and uncaring when it came to the finish line. He wanted this sweet agony of the in between to last all night.
Dick pulled out completely, and when he re-entered, Miles noted the cock sliding into him was colder and wetter. After a handful of thrusts, the added lube warmed up, and everything felt so delightfully perverse. Every thrust now ended in an obscene squelch, and the slide of that colossal dick felt all the more easy. It hit deeper somehow, and, after some manoeuvring, Miles’ knees were soon hooked over Dick’s broad shoulders, and that incredible cock reached deeper still.
Every thrust forced a wordless, primal shout from somewhere deep in his chest. Dick was now panting in his ear, those powerful hips speeding up until it was like he was being fucked by a jackhammer, powerless and trapped between this force of nature and the mattress.
“Ffffffuuuuuck,” was the only word Miles found himself able to utter. Over and over again as a tight heat coiled in the spot currently being battered by Dick’s obscenely proportioned penis. He felt himself start to tip over the edge, unable to do anything but lie there pinned, his muscles exhausted, and get fucked. But it didn’t matter; Dick’s big strong hands held him fast by the hips, thundering into him without pause, and finally Miles crested that wave with a howl.
His muscles fluttered uselessly around the battering ram still assaulting his insides, and suddenly the detective’s pace stuttered. And then increased.
“Oh yeah… oh, fuck, yeah,” Dick babbled, now chasing a more personal rhythm. “Oh, fuck, yeah…”
Miles would’ve likely had a sarcastic retort at the ready, were his brains not scrambled at present - but they were, and so all he was able to moan by way of a response was, “fuck, yes, fuck, fuck, fuck,” as Dick sped up, his grip on the prosecutor’s hips, bruising. “Fuck me, fuck me.”
“Fuck, I’m—” Dick’s pace became suddenly erratic. “I’m gonna… I’m—”
“Don’t pull out,” Miles ordered, finding the strength to wrap his trembling legs around the other man, and cross his heels. “Don’t you dare pull out, Dick, I want to feel it…”
“Fuck—”
“Want to feel…”
“Fuck.”
“Yes. Yes, yes yes, oh god, oh god…” Miles rolled his hips indulgently at that sudden bloom of wet heat. Dick continued rocking against him, weak sounds leaving his lips with every aftershock. “God, are you still coming..?” Miles marvelled, feeling the dam break as some of it bubbled out of him, red hot and viscous.
“S-Sorry… should’ve… warned you - there's always a lot,” Dick stammered, hips still jerking of their own accord. Miles could feel those heavy balls contracting from where they rested against him, the cock inside tensing in tandem as it spurted out the very last dregs.
Miles let his ankles slide down a smidge until they settled on the detective’s buttocks, blocking any escape. “Just… give me a minute,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I’d heard I’d be able to feel it, but…” he swallowed thickly, still catching his breath, “I never imagined…” His aching hips started rolling again, greedy to feel every last second of Dick’s dwindling hardness.
Only Dick wasn’t going soft.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moaned, capturing Miles’s lips in a kiss so sloppy and full of fervour, Miles’ eyes rolled back as he was all but forced to suck on the man’s tongue lest it slide down his throat. “So fucking wet…”
“Entirely your fault. What are you going to do about it?” Miles murmured, hoping the detective would start pounding him anew.
He got his wish quickly enough as Dick started up again, albeit less frenzied than before. The man seemed to relish in each slow, wet thrust, fucking Miles like this was his first time, and not the very sudden encore that it was. Slow, deep, languid.
“Fuck, no one’s ever taken the whole thing,” Dick whispered almost reverently, the hands on Miles’ hips no longer bruising, but caressing. “Feels like you were made just for me… feels so good…”
“I’ve never—” Miles then gasped as Dick bottomed out, holding himself there, deep and throbbing. “None of my toys are as big as you. God, you’re huge… I don’t know how it fits, but it does. It does, and it’s so fucking good. So good…” He chanted those last two words over and over like a prayer as Dick began moving again. As he angled his hips and chased the high that would eventually crash down on him.
When it did, it hit harder than before, stealing his breath and his voice at the very height of it. Forcing him to twitch and gasp and mewl against his will as he came down, a powerless and exhausted husk - and still getting fucked because Dick wasn’t finished with him yet.
“Feels so good when you come, baby,” he crooned, nibbling Miles’ earlobe. “When you squeeze my cock…”
All Miles could say to that was an undignified sort of “hhnnggg,” clawing at the man’s shoulders as each powerful thrust threatened to overstimulate him further.
But there was a twisted sort of pleasure in the pain. He’d never understood the concept until now, but as Dick nudged his well-fucked sweet spot, Miles’ every nerve caught fire. It was a familiar burn he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Until he could, and then he panicked.
“Dick, I’m—”
“Again..? Fuck…” the other man moaned, speeding up in misunderstanding. “Fuck, yeah, do it… come on my cock, baby…”
Miles then jerked, his back arching as though he’d been struck by lightening.
And then it happened.
And Dick kept going, fucking his limp, twitching body as the piss not only trickled but gushed out of him in a steady stream.
Every thrust overstimulated his bladder all the more, and Miles couldn’t have stopped it if he tried. His gasps became choked sobs, and despite the humiliation of the situation, Dick’s unwavering thrusts managed to hit him just right, and he was coming all over again.
It took Miles a moment to realise the world, and his head, had finally stopped spinning. Dick had come to a stop, and the reason became apparent very quickly when Miles felt that telltale heartbeat-like pulse both inside and out; as Dick’s cock and balls signalled that they were emptying. That Dick was coming again, despite having been pissed all over in the heat of the moment, and without warning. Dick was groaning, and holding him close, and devouring his mouth, and coming inside him, and Miles was dirty, and a pervert, and could stay like this forever.
But all good things came to an end. And Miles winced as the flared head of Gumshoe’s cock finally slipped out with a pop. What followed was an obscene amount of ejaculate, hot and slimy, and Miles could do nothing but lay there boneless and loose as it made its way out of him in a lazy dribble before puddling under his ass.
Dick scooped him onto his side, spooning the man and letting him come down in his own time. When Miles finally spoke, it was to say, “holy shit…”
“Y-Yeah…” Dick replied, ears still ringing.
Miles didn’t have the energy to feel self-conscious. That and the way Dick was absentmindedly caressing his chest and stomach, and leaving lazy kisses down his neck told Miles he absolutely hadn’t minded that little ‘accident’ at all.
Still, Miles felt the need to apologise.
“Dick, I’m so sorry, I—”
“Don’t be. It was hot.”
Oh.
“I see…” After a beat, he enquired, “hot..? Do you… like that sort of thing?”
“Mmm…” Dick hummed affirmatively, one hand skating down to fondle Miles’ painfully overstimulated clit. And continuing when Miles failed to pull away, or push him off. “Never made anyone do that before…” He then dipped his fingers back into that well-fucked hole before returning to that little bundle of nerves. The added wetness was like an electric shock and the prosecutor’s knees shot up to his stomach as he narrowly missed backwards-headbutting the detective.
Dick sucked a hickey at the side of his throat, continuing to fondle him, and Miles could feel something hot and hard soon prodding him in the thigh.
“You haven’t..?” Miles’ voice was slack and dreamy, almost on the cusp of sleep.
“Always wanted to, though…”
And Miles was very suddenly awake as that great turgid length slid into him in one slow motion. Miles’ hand came to his stomach as Dick bottomed out, and a large, rough hand covered his own, pressing down.
Miles was confident he’d never made that sound before…
“A-And… what else have you always wanted to do..?” he chanced, leaning back as Dick’s lips peppered the back of his neck with wet kisses, and his other arm slid between Miles and the mattress before pulling him flush against him.
Sweaty. Miles had never been so sweaty.
“Mmm, how long have you got?”
“Forever,” Miles replied a little too quickly.
There was a lot of neck kissing and clit fondling before the detective bucked his hips.
“Well… uhh, if you’re ok with it…”
“Yeees..?” Miles prodded, the endorphins forcing his mouth into a dopey grin. He’d heard of ‘punch drunk’ but never ‘fuck drunk’. What a fascinating concept—
“Well… you’re all messy anyway…” Dick mumbled shyly.
Miles hummed in a playful way that begged him to elaborate.
“So… maybe I could…” Dick steeled himself, wiggling his hips to make the point. “I gotta take a leak anyway…”
Oh.
“Y-You mean…” And Miles didn’t think it possible to flush any harder, his face suddenly a beacon.
Dick wanted to piss in him. Piss inside him. Fill his insides with piss.
And it didn’t disgust him. It should have. By rights Miles should have ran from the room screaming and filed a restraining order, but in that moment, after the best sex of his life, all he could say to that was, “Yes. Yes, alright.”
“Y-Yeah..?!”
“Yes,” Miles repeated, suddenly feeling giddy, his heart racing. In for a penny.
“Are you sure—?”
“Dick, for the love of God, would you just—oh…”
There was that bloom of wet heat again, only this time it was different. He could hear it, the stream, as Dick groaned in his ear and emptied his bladder. Very quickly it was too much, even for Miles, gaping as he was, and it began to dribble from his cunt in rivulets, wetting the expensive silk bedsheets with piss and seed - and Miles didn’t care. He didn’t care. All he could do was rock against Dick and let the wanton noises and gibberish trip from his lips as Dick began fucking him anew amidst the flood.
When Miles came again he was shouting Dick’s name amongst a string of expletives. Which became more colourful after Dick pulled out and rubbed his wet cock along Miles’ abused clit, making him jump with a cry.
Dick humped him a few times before finally—finally—giving him a reprieve, rolling onto his back.
“Fuck…” he whispered.
“You know,” and Miles took a swig from the water bottle he’d been mindful enough to leave on his bedside table before they’d started, “I’ve never heard you say that word before today.”
“Fuck?”
“Yes, that one.”
“Huh… wait, not even in traffic?”
Miles found his lips pursing around a smile as he passed the water bottle to Dick, who downed the rest on one long gulp.
“Well, you said it a bunch too…”
“I did,” Miles was smiling stupidly again. He reached down, lacing his fingers with the detective’s.
“Didn’t expect it to get all kinky this early…” Dick seemed to be thinking aloud. “I kinda got swept up in the moment there, sir—”
“If you’re thinking of apologising, you needn’t bother. I… enjoyed that immensely,” Miles admitted, still thoroughly flushed.
“Y-Yeah..?” Dick prodded, still adorably uncertain.
“Yes. In fact, it might be prudent if we both wrote a list,” he hurried to explain, “of other… activities we might wish to engage in… another day… when my every muscle isn’t aching, however…”
“Sorry, sometimes I don’t know my own strength, Mr. Edgeworth…”
“Once again—and on the record—I’m not complaining, detective,” Miles assured him. “In fact, you could stand to be a little stronger… if you wanted to.”
“Ohhh… you like it rough.” It wasn’t a question.
In the absence of a fuck-machine, he had only ever ridden toys under his own steam. A strong, willing partner by comparison he found was much more favourable… and… pleasurable.
Miles carded his fingers through the thicket of Dick’s chest hair. “If we’re to be delving into this kind of territory, perhaps we ought to establish a safe word.”
“Objection!” Dick shouted after a beat.
“…as good a word as any, I suppose.”
Though he doubted he’d ever be able to hear it again in the courtroom the same way.