I originally wrote this two years ago for a prompt on the PWKM about Phoenix discovering, at 35, "that he's romantically interested in both women AND men", and found the idea of writing a story about someone having a sexuality crisis as an emotionally settled person approaching middle age, instead of at a young age like the popular image of teen sexuality crises, too interesting to resist. I hope you find it interesting!
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The car rolled through the streets. It was so nice and smooth a drive that Phoenix could almost fall asleep in his seat. He looked at Edgeworth's very serious profile as he drove, and the way the street lights bounced off Edgeworth's glasses and sharp cheekbones, and-
"Why did I have to give you a lift home?" Edgeworth asked. He sounded so grumpy. It almost made Phoenix laugh.
"Because I'm an old man with a back injury and everyone else already got a lift with someone else," Phoenix said.
"I object. You're not old. You're the same age as me."
And then Phoenix did laugh, because he sure didn't feel young any more, but he didn't understand how body got so old over night. It had been a lovely night, a lovely wedding, and it felt strange being surrounded by so many people who had their lives figured out when some mornings Phoenix could barely remember how to use the microwave.
Edgeworth finally pulled up outside Phoenix's building. Phoenix opened his mouth to thank him and thought, I should kiss him. And then, wait what? He paused in his movements and blinked, confused.
"Are you ever going to get out of my car?" Edgeworth asked.
"Right, sorry," Phoenix said, finally rushing out of his seat and slamming the door behind him.
Edgeworth sped off. Phoenix stood on the footpath trying to convince himself he was just tired.