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The Tip of the Tongue, the Teeth, the Lips

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“*Absolutely not*.”

Phoenix frowns slightly at Miles’ *unnecessarily forceful* response. He reaches into his pocket --

Miles scoffs huffily at him. “You don’t need your magatama for this one, Wright. The answer is clear: it’s *filthy*.”

“Any filthier than any of the other things we’ve done together?” Phoenix asks.

Miles presses his lips into a hard line for a moment before responding. “You know *precisely* what I mean. I’m not going to spell it out just because you’re a -- a libidinous imbecile!”

(Ah, breaking out the fifty-cent words, are we? Wait -- )

“Hold it, ‘libidinous’? It’s not like I’m constantly hounding you for sex, Miles.”

“I note that you’re not objecting to being an imbecile,” Miles says with a smirk, and takes a pointed sip of his tea.

Phoenix rolls his eyes. “Ha. Ha ha,” he deadpans, “Listen, I thought that it could be something really sexy we could try. You are the most *fastidious* person I know as it is, and you *like* being touched there as much as *I* do if not mo--”

Miles cuts him off with a loud ‘clink!’ of his cup hitting the saucer in his hand.

“Phoenix. *You will get sick*. The bacteria that exists ‘there’ is not meant to have any contact with a mouth, *period*. You could get infected with E Coli or shigellosis or some other incredibly unpleasant sickness.” Miles pauses to tut at him. (*Ass*.) “Do you want that to happen? I am not the kind of person who *enjoys* being the cause of their lover’s suffering.”

(He has a valid point, but…)

He takes out the printed copy of the online article from his inside breast pocket and presents it. Miles stares at it disdainfully for a few seconds before turning that look to him.

“You *printed* this? At your *office*?!”

“I don’t own a *smartphone*, *Edgeworth*. Take a look at the third paragraph. It clearly says that if you thoroughly clean the area with gentle soap and water, which you already do *anyways*, that’s the best way to start.

Miles raises an eyebrow at him. “It also mentions barriers. Do you *have* dental dams in your possession?”

Phoenix chuckles apprehensively and scratches the back of his head. “Ah, no? I’ve never had a need for them in the past. I mean, we *do* have clingwrap, and that could work, so…”

Miles visibly takes a moment to consider this… then blanches.

“I would rather not. I don’t want you getting… *ideas*.”

“*What* ‘ideas’?!”

He gets a bland stare in response.

(Oh come on, that’s not anywhere close to my kink…!)

“How about this: if you do what you usually do when we’re planning to have sex, and I brush my teeth immediately after and rinse with peroxide and antiseptic mouthwash, can we try it?” Phoenix looks Miles square in the eye. “If… if you really don’t like it, we won’t do it again. I promise.”

Miles holds his stare for a moment, then sighs and looks out the window. “...Before, too.”


“Brush your teeth and rinse your mouth beforehand, too. That lowers the risks further, I would imagine.”

Phoenix feels himself breaking into a helpless grin. “Yeah, it would, wouldn’t it.” He stands up from his seat on the couch and closes the distance between them, bending down to kiss Miles’ temple.

His partner’s expression quirks, but doesn’t object.

(Good deal.)



Two nights later, and Phoenix is waiting impatiently for Miles to get out of the shower. Everything was ready, except for Miles himself.

Teeth brushed; mouth rinsed *twice*; all of the oral hygiene stuff from the bathroom plus an empty cup on the nightstand; ultra-plush ‘sex towels’ layered on *top* of the blankets --

(Well, I hardly got into a relationship with him expecting a *low-maintenance* lover, but this is… really...)

It’s another ten minutes before Miles enters the bedroom flushed pink and red from the shower, wearing that ridiculous too-short robe he wears *only* after showering. He still doesn’t think there’s any point in even owning it, since Miles only wears it for five minutes *tops* on any given day --

Or five seconds, like tonight.

Miles graces him with a tiny and *smug* little smile before he hangs his robe on the wall hook closest to the en-suite bathroom door. “Pick your jaw up off the floor. Or are you offering something else tonight…?”

Phoenix snorts.

“Maybe, if you don’t hurry and get on the bed,” he retorts reflexively.

Miles hums and stands in front of him, lightly stroking his half-hard cock with his fingertips.

“Not the most *compelling* incentive, I must say,” Miles says. “Try again.”

Phoenix moans and closes his eyes, leans in --

(No, Phoenix! Focus! You have *plans*!)

-- leans *back*. Looks up at his partner through his lashes, and says in his lowest register,

“I want to have tasted *all* of you.”

Miles takes a sharp breath through his nose and bites his lip. He *grips* his cock this time as it twitches in a way that makes Phoenix’s mouth water for it, want to feel the pressure of it on the middle of his tongue --

“That’s. That’s adequate incentive.”

He reaches out to grab Miles by the wrist and pull him onto the bed with him. Miles instinctively resists being moved around for a moment, then slides into Phoenix’s lap to offer searing-hot kisses.

Phoenix pulls away first, though he could *wallow* in kisses like that for ages.

“I think… all-fours would be easiest at first, right?”

“...I agree,” says Miles, and climbs over Phoenix to settle on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed.

Phoenix trails gentle kisses along Miles' back, darting his tongue out to taste his partner's skin. Clean, barely any flavor at all aside from traces of body wash, but when he comes across the small of Miles' back there's a tiny pool of fresh sweat forming in the dip.

Phoenix licks it away with broad strokes of his tongue --

Miles' breath hitches, arches his hips up and back a little --


It takes a great deal of his self-control to *not* grab Miles by the hips and shove his tongue right inside him, open him *up*, feel him flex and clench around his tongue, make him wet --

(No. I have to work him up to that. Get him comfortable enough so he doesn't *bolt* and refuse to let me anywhere near his ass for *weeks*.)

Instead Phoenix takes a moment to adjust himself in his underwear and moves his mouth a little lower, his hands a little lower, massages the knots that tend to accumulate in Miles' lower back and hips until Miles lets out a quiet groan.

Phoenix sucks a wet kiss to the top of his cleft.


Miles mumbles something in response that Phoenix can't quite make out, but it *sounds* positive.

(Right. Here goes. Do *not* mess this up! Do exactly what the article talked about, and... don't mess it up.)

He moves his hands from Miles' hips to his ass and uses his thumbs to spread the cheeks wide. His hole is clenching tight from the shock of cool air, pink and clenching tighter still before relaxing slightly once again --

Phoenix moans at the sight. "Oh, *fuck*..."

Miles tuts and looks back over his shoulder. He's blushing so *hard* --

"I did *tell* you that the idea was more appealing than the reality. Have you lost your nerve yet, Wright?"

Phoenix shakes his head. "Hardly. It's just... you're really beautiful, you know that? Beautiful *everywhere*."

Miles' lips purse into an indignant moue and turns his head forward again.

"Just... keep going, if you're still intent on doing this."

"I'm not allowed to savor the moment?"


Phoenix laughs and leans in closer to his partner's ass and lets the humid puffs of breath ghost right over Miles' opening.


Finally, *finally* he darts his tongue out to lick it, quick, hesitant --

Gets just a hint of the texture of his hole and nothing more before Miles cries out and *jolts* in his hold--

Phoenix pulls back to check.

"Still okay up there, Miles?" he asks quietly as he starts to massage Miles' hips again. They're tense, but…

Miles clears his throat and nods but doesn't look away from the headboard. "Yes! That was -- you can --. Yes."

Relieved, Phoenix gets back to work.

He uses the flat of his tongue this time, sliding up slow from his partner's balls to his perineum. He can feel how swollen and tight the flesh is there, and if he can rub a little *harder* with his tongue --

Miles drops down to his elbows and makes a cracked bitten-off sound that makes Phoenix *ache*. He doesn't even need to *try* to work up any saliva for this, he's drooling from how hot this is making him, how hot it's making *Miles*, how loud and perfect and he can't tease it out much longer.

"Spread your legs a little more for me?" he murmurs, and Miles immediately shifts his knees apart shakily.

Phoenix is thrumming with the anticipation of it a little, enough that he loses a *little* sanity and sucks a mark ( -- just a *little* one, not *hard*, just enough --) on the delicate skin just to the left of Miles' entrance before lapping gently at that pretty little hole --

"*AHN!*" Miles cries out -- again --

*Again* --

His hips jerk in Phoenix's hold like he isn't sure if he wants to escape or get *more* --

Phoenix grips tighter, and he throws his hopes to *any* higher power that his fingers won't leave bruises --

That they *do* --

Anything, *anything* to just have this *again* --

"C'mon, touch yourself for me," he slurs against Miles, "please, *please*, I want to hear you lose your *mind*."

The angle of Miles' hips changes while he's grabbing for his cock, and Phoenix has to chase after him a little just to keep the rhythm of his tongue right where it was.

He's getting sloppier, rougher, his own saliva making his chin slick as he starts to thrust in with his tongue in short strokes and he's *overwhelmed* by the salt of Miles, the feel of him flexing open and clenching over and over around his tongue and the ache in his jaw and Phoenix's own precome-damp underwear clinging and lightly chafing against the head of his cock --

He manages to make his right hand let go of Miles' cheek to reach take his cock out and strip it as fast as Miles has to be, considering that he's started to thrust his hips *back* against Phoenix's *face* in his desperation for more --

(I'd consider it *rude* of him to try to break my nose with his ass if it weren't so *sexy*.)

An invasive image flashes behind his eyes of himself, nose bruised and swollen, being relentlessly interrogated by Maya (or worse yet, *Pearls*) as to how he'd gotten said hypothetical sex injury is enough to shock him into pulling back for several deep breaths.

Miles *yowls* and tries to *slam* his hips back to where Phoenix's face was.

"D-don't stop! Don't you *dare* stop," he half-yells half-whines as he whips his head back to face Phoenix. His eyes are wild and glassy, pupils dilated so wide that his grey eyes look like *every* threat to Phoenix's manhood and maybe *existence* if he doesn't get right back to where he was.

It's everything Phoenix has ever wanted in that moment. He's sure of it.

"Hold, mn, h-hold on, let me breathe for a minute," he pants. Phoenix rests his forehead against the back of one of Miles' thighs and forcibly removes his hand from his cock.

(Not yet, Miles hasn't come yet, need to *wait* --)

The faster he can get oxygen into his system, the faster he can get his tongue *right* back to where they both need it --

Phoenix relaxes his grip that's still holding Miles spread open and slides his thumb *inside* --

Miles drops lower *still* so that his shout is muffled by the pillows even as he scrambles to raise his ass up higher, trying to take *more* --


Phoenix takes one last deep breath and shoves his face back into Miles' ass, thrusts *hard* with his thumb and flicks his tongue around the rim of his partner's hole --

Even though they're muffled, every last one of Miles' cries is loud, needy --

A few of them crack *high* when Phoenix reaches around to knock his hand away so he can take over --

Rub his *other* thumb in fast circles right under the head --

Miles' thighs *quake* as he --

Makes --

That --

*Sound* --

That sound right *there*, that pornographic *croon* that *always* make Phoenix want to call '*baby*' but can't if he knows what's fucking good for him --

He pulls out his thumb roughly and Miles slams his hand hard against the mattress as if it were the Prosecutor's podium as Phoenix fucks in-in-in with his tongue, makes it as hard and long and slick as he possibly can and his jaw hurts and the back of his neck hurts and his *cock* hurts but Miles is so close --

His love is so *loud* so *close* --

Phoenix feels the warm wetness spilling on his fingers before he hears Miles *scream*.

His own cock twitches hard and spatters precome on the bed as he pulls back to breathe and ease Miles' shaking legs out from under him and lay him completely flat. His lungs get that euphoric ache of getting the air they need after being restricted for so long. He's dizzy with it and fumbles forward to grip Miles' shoulder and *rut* into the cleft of Miles' ass.

He's saying *something*, maybe *many* somethings, and he prays again that they're the right things as he shuts himself up before saying some *stupid* something by shoving his come-drenched fingers into mouth --

Salt-bitter-Miles-*good* --

Phoenix grinds his hips faster as he sucks on own fingers --

Please please *please* just a little more --

The heat in his belly flares bright-hot for an perfectly agonizing moment and he bites down and *whimpers* like a *dog* as he comes against his partner's hole and lower back.

Somehow, in the staticky fuzz of pleasure clouding his brain, he’s able to avoid just flopping down and smothering Miles into the bed. He flops down next to him, instead.

When he looks over, his cock offers an agonized twitch that makes him moan. Miles’ lips are swollen from being bitten in attempts to keep quiet -- (Attempts he *failed*, because I’m *awesome*.) -- and his eyes seem a little wet and a lot vacant. Overall, he looks completely blissed out.

Phoenix scoots in closer, leans in for a kiss --

And is stopped by a hand on his lips.

“Mouth,” is the oh-so-coherent response from the feared Demon Prosecutor.

Right. He sighs, but there’s no real true irritation behind it as Phoenix grabs for the toothbrush, toothpaste, and cup. He’d already won every victory he’d hoped for and *more* tonight.