Pinned Piece

Disclaimer: I don't own Phoenix Wright or any of the characters. They belong to Capcom.

Note: This fic was originally written in response to a prompt on the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme.

"Wright… I told you to let me work," Miles growled, slapping Phoenix's hands off his shoulders.

"Oh, come on, Edgeworth… You've been saying that for half an hour. It's late, you can finish that tomorrow," Phoenix complained. "How can you stand working for that long? Doesn't it make your head hurt?"

Miles didn't even bother to look up from his documents. "Normally, no. But right now, I must admit that yes, I might be starting to get a slight headache. Though it's not the paperwork that's to blame."

Phoenix sighed. "Fine, I'll stop bothering you. But don't take too long, okay? I'm getting tired of wai-"

"Wright." Miles looked up. "I'm almost done. Besides, I never asked you to wait for me in the first place. You can just leave if you're so impatient."

Phoenix shrugged, rolling his eyes. He made his way to the extensive bookcase, inspecting the large array of books that mocked him in such a way it made his own collection seem like a handful of picture books in comparison.

Miles looked on, reckoning the other man was not about to leave anytime soon. But as long as he remained quiet, there really was no point in complaining. He turned his attention back to his papers, twirling his pen a few times between his fingers, and got back to filling out the page where he had left off.

A few minutes later, he glanced up again, only to notice that Phoenix was now fiddling with the pieces on his chessboard.

"Don't touch that, please."

Phoenix turned around, slightly startled. "Huh? Oh, sorry… I was just trying to see if I remember how to play."

Miles smirked. "You mean you've actually played chess before? I'm amazed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Phoenix asked, scowling.

"Oh, nothing," Miles responded in a cool tone, looking down at his paperwork again. "I just never imagined you playing anything that required more concentration than rock, paper, scissors." A thin smile made its way to his lips. He didn't even have to look at the other man, as he knew exactly the expression his comment had brought to his face.

"Is that a challenge?"

Miles raised his head again. "What?"

Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck. "Laugh all you want, but I was actually pretty good when I played in highschool. I bet I could probably beat you."

Miles snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Wright. Besides, this chessboard is not for playing. It's very fragile and very expensive, so don't touch it."

"What's the point of having a chessboard if you can't play with it?" Phoenix asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's called 'decorating'," Miles stated, taking a glance at the page he was still trying to finish. "But of course, you wouldn't know anything about that."

Phoenix rolled his eyes again. He walked over behind Miles and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck.

"Wright, what did I tell you about…" He sighed. "If we play one game, will you stop doing that?"

Phoenix nodded, letting go of Miles. He made his way back to the chessboard and started looking around.

"The stools are behind the couch," Miles explained, gesturing with his head. "I keep them there so they're not in the way."

Phoenix crossed the room and came back with the seats, setting them on each side of the board. He sat down and crossed his arms, waiting for Miles to join him.

Miles finally dropped his pen, getting up off his chair and walking over to sit down on the other stool.

"Um…" Phoenix started, staring at the board, "can we switch places?"

Miles took a quick glance down, before giving him an amused look. "You want to be blue, don't you?"

Phoenix grinned sheepishly. "If you don't mind…"

Miles rolled his eyes and got up from his seat. "Fine. But I hope you don't think it will give you the upper hand." He walked around the chessboard, sitting back down on the opposite side. "A chess game is always divided into three stages. In your case, the first; when you hope you have the advantage, the second; when you believe you have an advantage, and the third; when you know you're going to lose."

Phoenix blinked. "Whatever you say, Edgeworth…"

Miles crossed his arms, waiting for Phoenix to make the first move. He seemed hesitant for some reason. "What are you waiting for? Don't take all night. I still have some work to finish."

"I can start with the horse, right?"

Miles looked at him in disbelief. "It's called a 'knight', for your information, and yes, you can."

Phoenix nodded, then proceeded to move his knight from 'g1' to 'h3'.

"At least you still know how to move it," Miles said, a bit relieved.

"Oh, I always know how to move it," Phoenix replied, grinning.

Miles brought his hand to his face. "Wright, could you at least try to take this seriously? You were the one who wanted to play, remember?"

"Alright, alright…" Phoenix pouted.

Miles pondered for a moment, then moved one of his pawns two squares forward.

Then Phoenix quickly moved his knight again and leant back, folding his arms behind his head.

Miles frowned. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"You just made a stupid mistake."

Phoenix shrugged. "What would chess be without silly mistakes? As they say, some part of a mistake is always correct."

Miles raised an eyebrow, before looking down and capturing the knight with the pawn he had just moved on the previous turn.

A playful smile appeared on Phoenix's face. "Oops, my bad."

Miles gave him a perplexed look. "I really hope you weren't seriously trying to bluff on the second turn."

Phoenix simply chuckled and moved his other knight.

Five turns later, he had already lost three more pieces.

"Okay, are you doing this on purpose?" Miles asked, deeply annoyed at the fact that Phoenix was obviously wasting his time.

Phoenix shook his head. "In order to improve my game, I must study the endgame before everything else, for whereas the endings can be studied and mastered by themselves, the middle game and the opening must be studied in relation to the endgame." He smirked. "Besides, without error, there can be no brilliancy."

Miles blinked a few times, giving him a blank stare. "What… What the hell are you babbling about?"

Phoenix laughed. "No matter." He grabbed another piece in what appeared to be an extremely random manner and moved it a few squares.

Miles sighed. "For Christ's sake, Wright, you could at least pretend to concentrate. Chess is supposed to be played with the mind, not with the hands."

Phoenix leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Unfortunately, I don't believe in psychology. I believe in good moves."

Miles stared at him a moment, before shaking his head and moving his bishop. "It's your turn."

Without even looking, Phoenix moved another random piece and leaned further over the board. "You know, life is just like a game of chess; you play the opening like a book, the middle game like a magician, and the endgame like a machine."

At this point, Miles stood up, nearly knocking over the stool. "Okay, what's wrong with you?"

Phoenix chuckled. "Nothing. You're just really hot when you're angry." He stood up and walked around to Miles, slipping his arms around his waist. He leaned in for a kiss, but Miles turned away.

"Let's finish the game. I was just about to put you in checkmate."

Phoenix grinned. "Objection!" He reached behind him and knocked all the pieces over on the chessboard. "Where's your evidence?"

Miles glared at him, but couldn't fight down the rare smile that soon graced his lips. "Why do I put up with you?"

He threw his arms around Phoenix, bringing him closer and resting his forehead against his. He paused for a moment. "You know, Wright, it's not enough to be a good player. You must also play well." He smirked. "You took that chess book from the shelf, didn't you?"

Phoenix grinned again. "What makes you say that?"

"There's something hard in your pants and it's way too bi-"

Phoenix hushed him with his mouth, obviously not wanting to hear the rest of that sentence.

Miles kissed back, pressing against him until he was pinned against the bookcase.

"You know what else that book told me?" Miles asked, catching his breath.

"What's that?"

"Apparently, the defensive power of a pinned piece is only imaginary."

The chessboard is the world, the pieces are the phenomena of the Universe, the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature and the player on the other side is hidden from us.

Fin