A/N: Prompt from the PW kink meme requesting Blackquill unexpectedly getting off by being shackled during sex. Pairing is Blackbright/Phantomquill. Set during Blackquill and Fulbright's walk in the middle of the trial in Turnabout Academy. I'm currently still working on this one, and I'll post the other written chapters over here periodically. Yup, that's about it! Enjoy the smutty smut-ness! ^.^

Rated M for language, mild violence, and explicit sexual content containing scenes of dub-con (dubious consent).

Spoilers for: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Dual Destinies


"Rubbish!" Blackquill murmured as he swept out from behind the prosecution's bench and started toward Fulbright, who was already rising from his seat in the gallery, presumably to detain him. He grabbed the detective's arm when their paths intersected and continued on, undeterred, to the exit. "We will be out on a stroll!" he informed the uneasy-looking bailiff who stepped forward to meet them, and without waiting to hear any objections the man may have had, he dragged Fulbright through the double doors and out into the hallway.

A crowd of civilians had amassed outside the courtroom to await the verdict of the trial, but upon seeing the infamous convict prosecutor emerge, completely unchecked save for a pair of handcuffs (which he had already demonstrated he could break out of on several occasions) and the dubious watch of an absentminded detective, they scattered in alarm to let the duo pass. It was at this point that Fulbright became dead weight, for he seemed uncertain of whether he should allow his charge to walk off some steam or else herd him back into the courtroom as would be proper, and so Blackquill let go of him without any due ceremony and continued on at his own brisk pace while the spectators around him whispered nervously. He made it nearly as far as the end of the corridor before Fulbright finally seemed to make up his mind and dashed after him.

"Prosecutor Blackquill! You can't just go wandering about the courthouse freely! You must be escorted!" he cried, and Blackquill felt the familiar gloved hand slide over his upper arm and clasp it firmly, forcing his stride to a slow walk.

"Hmph. Fool Bright, I hope you didn't misunderstand my intentions in bringing you along," he said as they rounded the corner to a hallway that was significantly more deserted. "I'll have you know, it isn't because I find your company particularly enjoyable."

Fulbright only laughed, like he always did at Blackquill's backhanded insults, and casually, perhaps unwittingly, changed the subject. "Well, I suppose I can't object to you getting in some exercise after being cooped up in your cell all the time!" he said. "Proper exercise and a positive attitude are essential for your rehabilitation and return to society, after all!"

Blackquill gave a short "Hmph!" but deigned otherwise not to answer. Fulbright continued to prattle on about his silly, hopeless agenda of reforming a man who was mere months away from ascending the scaffold, but Blackquill had heard it all countless times before. His mind was instead preoccupied with the trial. As much as the subject irked him at the moment, he couldn't help but worry faintly over Athena and wonder how she was holding up with the golden boy's insane testimony. He wasn't usually prone to sentimentality – seven years of hard time had dragged most of that out of him – but Athena, being one of the few remaining vestiges of his past, still triggered an almost fraternal tenderness within him, and despite its relative awkwardness to his current self, he had to admit that he did cherish those feelings of affection he had for her.

"Therefore, Prosecutor Blackquill, it is of critical importance that you always be on your best behavior," Fulbright was concluding when Blackquill reluctantly tuned back in to him. They had reached the defendant lobbies now, which, in the commotion of the trial, had been all but abandoned. "And as I've told you, you could do without making such dark-humored jokes during court!"

"And you could do without moving your tongue whensoever the urge should strike you, lest it be cut off," was the rather dark-humored response, and though his jabs at Fulbright were made more out of habit than they were intended as actual threats, Blackquill still found the detective's over-exaggerated reactions to be amusing enough to keep making them.

"P-Prosecutor Blackquill! Please don't say such things! P-people will take you seriously!"

"Who is to say I'm not being serious?"

Fulbright went pale and sputtered, releasing his hold on the prosecutor's arm to press both hands flat against his temples in yet another comical overreaction. Blackquill smiled to himself.

"I jest, Fool Bright." He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. "Now come. We should be returning to the trial. I can only hope that Cykes-dono has finished with our mad golden boy's ludicrous testimony."

When he made to turn around, however, he felt a sudden weakness in his legs and stumbled slightly. He caught himself easily enough and managed to maintain his balance, but Fulbright, of course, simply had to notice and was at his side supporting him in an instant.

"Prosecutor Blackquill, are you alright?!"

Blackquill grimaced and quickly straightened up. "I'm perfectly fine, Fool Bright, there's no need for the theatrics!" he growled, but the detective was shaking his head vehemently.

"No, no, no! You've been standing all day, and your body isn't used to it!" he cried, tightening his grip on Blackquill's arm as if that would imbue him with more stability.

"Wh-what are you jabbering about now?!"

After a cursory glance up and down the hallway, Fulbright guided his charge toward Defendant Lobby No. 2.

"Why don't we rest in here for a few minutes, sir?" he suggested, and without waiting for a response, he pulled Blackquill into the room and closed the door behind them. He then steered him to the sofa nearest them and lowered him by the shoulders onto it.

"Hmph. This really isn't necessary, Fool Bright – I can walk and stand perfectly fine!" Blackquill objected sourly, crossing his arms with a clank of his shackles.

"Let's just take a few moments to relax together, without anyone else to bother us – okay, Prosecutor?"

Blackquill looked up sharply. The man standing before him was, undoubtedly and by all appearances, Bobby Fulbright. And yet, something in his voice just then had sounded… off. For a moment, he couldn't think of a better word to describe it until, slowly, another came into focus in his mind.

Familiar.