Author's note:

This is my first attempt at a Phoenix Wright fic and its characters, so please be kind! It's dom!Apollo and sub!Phoenix (odonaru) because that's my tea and jam. Plus there's a sheer lack of this pairing out there, so here I am, once again, contributing to the pool. Take this as me testing the waters for potential future Phoenix Wright fanfics.

Warning: This fic contains spoilers for AJ:AA and PW:DD

Disclaimer: Phoenix Wright and all its characters are the sole property of CAPCOM. All I do is simply borrow them and churn out original situations for my personal amusement.

Turnabout for Justice

by Dark Interval

"So, who's doing toilets today?"

Three bodies stiffened immediately from that disturbingly carefree, telltale voice, as each individual desperately wrecked their brains for something. Anything at all. This was the seventh time this week. And it was only Tuesday. God forbid.

Phoenix poked his head into the office and beamed at his two proteges and daughter innocently, expectantly. Too expectantly. He was already braced with a toilet scrubber in one hand, and a bucket and bleach in the other. Their faces fell, but the defense attorney was undeterred… or he had somehow completely failed to register three stark-white expressions of sheer dread.

He laughed and raised the scrubber in a childish gesture of eenie meenie minie mo.

"How about…"

The thing barely reached its first victim, but before Apollo's brain could come up with some pitiful excuse to avoid chores day, Athena suddenly ran out of the office at the speed of light claiming she had to meet a new client, and Trucy followed soon after with a quick "Now you see me, now you don't!"

Apollo's hair spikes twitched sporadically. First of all, that wasn't even a magic trick. Second, for an analytic psychologist, Athena made one terrible liar. And with those two traitors practically abandoning him like some sorry stray, the final decision was a no-brainer really.

"... Apollo! Good man."

"But, Mr. Wright - "

Phoenix all but shoved the cleaning supplies into the young lawyer's arms before he could start protesting. Apollo released a loud, long sigh that would put Solomon Starbuck to shame. It was times like this he wondered why he even bothered coming to work. Sure, Phoenix managed to regain his attorney's badge along with whatever was left of his star reputation (infamous bluffing tactics aside), but it seemed that some things never changed. Like his obsession with cleaning toilets. Why did the guy enjoy it so much anyway? Normal people started their day running around the block until they collapsed from exhaustion. Or pulling breakfast out of their panties. Or practicing some "Chords of Steel" at 5am in the morning… Ok, scratch that - maybe the "Wright Anything Agency" wasn't the best of examples... Anyway, it was either a very peculiar habit, or Phoenix had some serious issues.

Oblivious, the lawyer in question continued talking, "You know, when I was working on Orla's case and you said you'd do anything to help - "

'Not anything,' Apollo thought in growing frustration.

" - and normally I'd love to help with cleaning the toilet - "

He honestly believed that part.

"- but ever since we apprehended The Phantom, all these new cases started piling in, and with you and Athena working here, you can't expect me to believe you'd be satisfied with your current pay…"

Apollo felt inclined to point out that Phoenix never really paid him at all.

"... and when you're done with the toilet, you can move to the bedrooms - don't throw away anything; I haven't had time to determine what's important yet - oh, and maybe if you have time, could you prepare lunch? I want curry."

And just when a red-faced Apollo was about to point out that he wasn't his maid, Phoenix paused in his work to shoot him a radiant smile - one that had found its way back on his face after seven long years of darkness; something Apollo hadn't been able to resist since. But just as quickly, the smile vanished to be replaced with a cheeky smirk as Phoenix casually reached up and wrapped an arm around Apollo's shoulder.

He pulled him close to whisper, "If the defense doesn't have any objections, then I don't see why we should prolong this discussion any further."

The action and the feeling of the older male's hot breath against his ear caused Apollo's own breath to hitch and his face to turn as bright red as a tomato. He wanted to yell "Objection!" really loudly. He really did. But a quick look at how Phoenix happily returned to his papers with such a serene, unguarded expression, made Apollo visibly falter.

He was so relaxed; his expression soft, cheeks dusted a slight pink, and there was a tentative gentleness about him that made Apollo stop and stare. It was like Phoenix was 21 all over again – that sweet and earnest boy in the defendant's chair – and Apollo never thought he would get to see this side of his boss outside the old court records.

'Mr. Wright's… kinda cute.'

Apollo snuck a peek at his face. Even though he saw Phoenix almost everyday, he couldn't get enough. The defense attorney was handsome, incredibly so – at least to him. There was a distinct boyish charm about him, and even though he was already 35 and had developed some telltale smirk lines, Phoenix honestly didn't look a day over 30.

And then there were the occasional touches. The way his idol and mentor appeared so comfortable, so trusting and dependent around him (sometimes even going as far as whining) effectively chased away all Apollo's previous frustration and grievances. Oh sure, Phoenix was generally approachable and easygoing (which more often than not led to others taking advantage of him), but it was different when it came to being alone with him. Like Phoenix could stop pretending and putting on his biggest smile for the sake of others' happiness. Like he could finally stop being strong for once and beg for love with his loneliness.

Phoenix was both an open book and an enigma: Apollo noticed that there was an increasing vulnerability and dependency about the older male when they were together, but whenever he stared Phoenix in the eye for more than a few seconds, the guy would snap out of it like a dream and close himself off again. Though during the courtroom bombing incident, that vulnerability resurfaced full-force - Phoenix had been truly concerned about him. After everything was over, when Athena told him how Phoenix had practically went off on a terrified Ted Tonate, Apollo found himself smiling for the first time after his best friend's death. Phoenix's heart hadn't been lying when he feared for his life; and he himself hadn't been lying either when he told his mentor on the witness stand that he was the only one who could help him.

Phoenix Wright.

The man was always laughing; smiling; occasionally annoyingly cryptic; but there was still a lingering darkness in his heart that Apollo couldn't quite place. He was noticing this more frequently - and he noticed things. Call it his powers of perception or an unhealthy obsession, but he was always watching Phoenix, and he didn't plan to stop.

For as long as he could remember, he'd done nothing but fantasize about meeting the Phoenix Wright, ace attorney, and would gush about his idol non-stop to Clay, who often teased him about his adorable 'man-crush' none too delicately. Ok, fine, so Clay was as blunt as a sledgehammer, and as they grew older, his best friend's comments became increasingly lewd. He blushed now as much as he blushed then; perhaps even more so after he found himself actually working for his idol. That, and his boss had traded his baggy clothes for a new suit. And he hadn't been kidding when he said he looked like a million dollars. The last text he'd sent to Clay before he began training at The Cosmos Space Center read, "I need to get my shit together" to which said man replied, "You need to keep that dick in your pants."

Apollo continued to stare at the back of Phoenix's head curiously, longingly, as the latter poured over the latest case file at hand. There he was, thoroughly preoccupied, the papers held up to his face, reading. Phoenix's head was tilted and a hand moved up to support his chin as he continued to study the contents, a pout on his lips. His tie was loose and his shirt collar left undone. Apollo's gaze honed in on the soft expanse of seemingly untouched skin. It called out to him like a siren at sea and it took everything in his power not to lean in and get a taste of that tempting, unblemished neck. To dig his teeth into the exposed flesh. To feel the man's heat pool between his lips. To hear Phoenix moan...

Apollo fought down a blush angrily. He was 24 years old, goddammit – a grown man! He didn't need to feel guilty for his thoughts and desires, never mind if they involved his own boss, who was clearly male and at least a decade older than him. Because when it came to his feelings for Phoenix, the term 'hero worship' didn't quite cut it anymore … Not when he wanted more, craved more.

They were alone together - how often had he wished for moments like this? With the place getting more crowded (sometimes he got the feeling him, Athena and Trucy were like puppies Phoenix picked up on the street to care for even when he could barely afford to), he never thought he'd get lucky again. Once, he had the fortune of stumbling into work and chanced upon an adorable half-asleep Phoenix pulling on a pair of fresh boxers, the ends of his shirt coquettishly obscuring his privates, and had to deal with a massive nosebleed from how utterly hot it all looked. Safe to say, the impressive amount of blood loss on Apollo's part was enough to leave Phoenix fully awake by then.

'This crush is getting out of hand,' he thought to himself in annoyance. But the temptation to run his fingers through Phoenix's hair and trace sensual patterns down the back of his neck was irresistible – Phoenix was irresistible…

"Apollo… are you alright?"

Wide, innocent eyes blinked up at him curiously. Flustered, Apollo quickly withdrew his hand and said the first thing that came to his mind.

"M-MY NAME'S APOLLO JUSTICE AND I'M FINE!"

That effectively blew Phoenix off his seat and the papers all over the place.

"Waaaahhhhh! Apollo, whyyyyy?"

And so, to prevent further embarrassing himself, Apollo left poor Phoenix to scramble for his documents as he shuffled awkwardly out of the room.

Once out of sight and hearing range, the young lawyer leaned against Phoenix's bedroom door with a tortured sigh. Urgh, he completely choked! Not to mention he made his boss' life more difficult by messing up his case files.

'Mr. Wright must think I'm an idiot,' he thought gloomily, wondering why he could never be cool like Klavier, Edgeworth, or even Prosecutor Blackquill. Although Trucy did tell him he was pretty cool during The Phantom's trial... but that was only because he was grieving Clay's death.

"Well… guess I better get started," he muttered, rolling up his sleeves. Anything to distract him from his previous embarrassment was duly appreciated, including chores.

The toilet was still sparkling from yesterday's three-session cleanup, so he let it be for now. That left the bedrooms; and since he was currently in Phoenix's room, he figured he'd start here. Also, the last time he entered Trucy's room without her permission, he'd gotten a face full of blue glitter from one of her magic contraptions behind her door. He'd clean the place after she got back.

Grabbing a nearby laundry basket, Apollo did a quick sweep over the modest bedroom with his eyes, only to cringe immediately from the sight. Phoenix's living habits left much to be desired. And here he thought his own bedroom was bad. The older male's cluttered dump made his own organized mess back at home look like Buckingham palace! Now, by no means was Phoenix an unhygienic slob… though he was still a slob, considering he had his clothes, comics, DVDs, etc. strewn all over the place. In fact, Apollo couldn't even find the bed - that is, until he tripped over a pair of pants and landed face-first into what he could only presume was a mattress. No wonder Phoenix never let anybody into his room. No one should even be allowed to enter this domestic war zone. Pausing, he stared at the empty laundry basket in his arms and sighed. He needed a bigger basket. And a pair of tongs. And maybe a scuba mask and snorkel.

As he moved through the room tossing article after article - that was one cute pair of chibi Steel Samurai boxers - of clothing into the basket, he stopped when his hand grasp something small and plush. He pulled it out from the sea of clothes. It was an old Blue Badger stuffed toy, and from the slight discoloration and soft stuffing, it appeared well-loved. Apollo couldn't help but smile fondly. No matter how old Phoenix got, he was still a kid in an adult's body. It was cute - maybe that's why he liked him so much. Phoenix's inherent innocence was one of his best qualities.

'I wonder if he's innocent in other ways - No, bad Apollo!'

Mentally giving himself a good smack for that, Apollo moved on.

The next was the closet: an old cardboard box had fallen out, its contents scattered across the floor near it. He stooped down, picked up one of the items, and smirked. Who knew his boss was such a sentimental sap? It was mostly mementos and old photographs from Phoenix's days as a lawyer before his disbarment: a semi-faded picture of him, Edgeworth, and Larry as kids; a card with a caricature of himself drawn on it; more childhood photos; his graduation from law school; a picture of 8-year-old Trucy and Mr. Hat; a stack of photos of them together over the course of 7 years; and an old group photo of him, Maya, Pearl, Larry, Edgeworth, Franziska, Gumshoe, and - wait, was that a ghost?!

Apart from that, nothing else appeared out of the ordinary, except for the disturbing lack of clean clothes hanging inside the closet (the Wrights were really overdue for laundry day).

Wait a minute.

Something pink caught his eye – a hand knitted sweater with a big red heart and the letter 'P' on the front. It was kind of girly for any guy to wear really, but the fact that this was still here indicated that it held a lot of sentimental value. Apollo picked it up, furrowing his brows in thought. He remembered this sweater, remembered seeing Phoenix wearing it proudly with that bright red scarf in an old courtroom video. He had been so different then, innocent and naive, but he was still his adorable Phoenix. That was the case with Dahlia Hawthorne, Phoenix's first and only love. She made him this sweater – well, Iris did, but same difference.

Apollo's grip on the poor, innocent garment shook. A dark look crossed his features, while the beginnings of anger and confusion swam in his chest. Yes, he was jealous – jealous that there was someone from his mentor's past that he couldn't quite let go; someone that Phoenix still treasured deeply and perhaps even loved until this day.

He wouldn't allow it.

He was the one who helped clear his idol's name. He was the one who called Kristoph Gavin out on his crimes and had the mad man locked away, so he would never come close to harming his Phoenix ever again. He was the one who supported said lawyer's come back greater than anyone. Him, Apollo Justice. Not Dahlia – Iris – whatever. So why was Phoenix so damn dense to not notice? At first, he had thought the sweater to be cute and would've loved to see a flustered Phoenix in it for himself. But now, more than anything, he wanted to burn the damn thing.

To hell with it.

And before Apollo knew it, he had let his jealousy get the better of him when he demanded his boss' presence.

"Mr. Wright!"

It was a combination of a shout and a growl, one that definitely got Phoenix's attention as he stumbled into the bedroom, anxious and flustered, a stray lock of hair falling forward.

"W-What is it?" He asked nervously, peeking over the door frame. He'd never seen or heard Apollo this upset before, not even those days of endless teasing during that old poker stint. "If it's those empty bottles of grape juice under my bed, I can explain –"

"Do I even want to know?" Apollo interrupted, torn between feeling pissed and disgusted. He shoved the pink sweater right under Phoenix's nose. "Why?"

It was only one word, but it was enough to make the older attorney openly nervous. But as the head of this agency, it was his job to get to the root of Apollo's sudden fowl mood. Honestly though, it was just an old sweater. What the heck was the kid's problem? Phoenix frowned, studying the brunette, as his hand reached into his pocket to grasp something small and smooth.

"Do you really hate it that much?"

"I wonder what gave that away," Apollo answered sarcastically, folding his arms.

No psyche-locks.

But the way Apollo kept staring at him, gaze intense and unflinching, made him feel all hot and bothered. Phoenix dropped his gaze and had to look away, at anything that wasn't the young and handsome man before him. A thousand times he'd told himself to give it up, to drop whatever it was he was feeling and move on with life… but for all those thousands of times of self-convincing, he knew he couldn't. What he wanted – what he really wanted – was impossible, and it seemed that cruel fate continued to mock him by having the very source of the problem confront him himself. But he couldn't; he shouldn't. He would take this secret to his grave, and Apollo would never know.

He couldn't even bring himself to snatch the sweater out of his protege's hand; and Apollo noticed this. Phoenix was doing it again – putting up his walls and avoiding eye-contact. Apollo steeled himself and focused. It was his turn.

"Why do you still have this with you?"

Phoenix blushed, "Because… Iris made it for me, and I miss her." He finished with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Apollo, are you seriously getting your spikes all knotted up over a pink sweater?"

Apollo's bracelet tightened, which actually surprised him so much that he forgot about his jealousy for a second. Phoenix was… lying about his feelings towards Iris? He needed to be sure.

"Mr. Wright, when you said 'I miss her'... Why did your eyes dart to the side?"

Ack! Phoenix faltered. Who'd have thought Apollo would use that skill of his outside court? Touché.

"W-Well, I do miss her," he reaffirmed, only to look away defeated, "... But that's not the reason I kept it."

Interesting. Not only did his mentor sort of lie to him, but his ears were turning red as was his face. This was the first time Apollo actually saw Phoenix look so shy and embarrassed… Cute.

"Then what is?"

"It's what it represents," Phoenix replied, taking the worn garment from Apollo's hand and trailing his thumb over the fuzzy material wistfully. There was a distinct tenderness in his eyes.

"When I was dating Iris, that was the first and only time I could love someone so freely – without worries or inhibitions. I could be me… And I was happy."

Apollo frowned at that. So he was right. For the years he knew Phoenix, perhaps way before that even, the guy had been hiding behind his carefree mask. But there was more to this confession… He just knew it.

Never once averting his eyes from the older male's face (despite Phoenix's best efforts to avoid him), Apollo closed the distance between them. Then, breaching the last of Phoenix's personal space, he shoved his hand into the man's pocket and grasped the fingers that were no doubt tightly curled around the magatama. Phoenix gasped, face turning from bright red to stark white; but Apollo paid it no heed. Though he wasn't 100% sure he wanted to hear his mentor's answer, he'd already come this far not to hear the truth. At the very least, he'd be able to sleep better at night.

"Mr. Wright, you can't hide from me… Who are you in love with?"

Five psyche-locks.

The chains had appeared so suddenly, almost all at once, that Apollo nearly fell over from shock. How ironic: no doubt the toughest lock to crack would be the magatama's owner himself. However, it did leave him more curious than before. So, Phoenix was in love with someone, and judging by the number of psyche-locks he had around his heart, it wasn't an easy relationship.

Meanwhile, Phoenix was starting to sweat. Fudge, Apollo could see the locks no doubt. He tried distracting the brunette, divert the topic, but Apollo was just as stubborn as his sister it seemed and he was beginning to see how hopeless his situation was. But he couldn't tell him, not after he'd promised Thalassa… And even if by some twist of fate things did work out, Apollo was still just a kid – Phoenix paused. Correction, not anymore; in fact, he never was. The only reason he couldn't shake that impression off was because of the great responsibility he had shouldered for 9 years and counting.

Apollo was a grown man, 24, and only slightly less than a head shorter than him. He could hold his own in court; had grown very nicely into that outfit of his; and could take hits just as hard as he himself could. And somewhere along the way, Phoenix had fallen in love with his protege – how messed up was that?

"Mr. Wright," said Apollo, but Phoenix was too guarded to say anything.

Fine. It you want something done, do it yourself.

Mentally, Apollo took a step back and considered what he knew.

First, Phoenix claimed he missed Iris, but that only before he confessed the real reason he kept the sweater: he missed the feeling of being loved. So, was he in love with Iris? - No, the person he loved was someone else.

Second, Phoenix acted extremely anxious when confronted about the person's identity - way too nervously to pass off as any run-of-the-mill individual. There was no mistaking it: it was someone he knew as well.

Third, had Phoenix acted differently in front of anyone lately? From what he knew, the guy treated everyone with the same infuriatingly carefree nature he always did… but then Apollo started to recall Athena's words about Ted Tonate; the pain in Phoenix's eyes when he took to the witness stand; those fleeting yet increasingly frequent touches; how Phoenix could be so relaxed around him; nervous around him; that ambivalence…

The thoughts were linking up. The conclusion left Apollo feeling ambivalent himself, but the bigger, selfish and possessive part of him wanted to hear it from the man's own lips. He could practically taste his own victory over his mentor, but he wanted the experience to be sweeter. He took a shot in the dark.

"Mr. Wright… you're in love with me, aren't you?"

Phoenix's eyes widened in horror and he felt his blood run cold.

No.

And suddenly, all at once, the psyche-locks shattered.

The sight was so jarring, Apollo actually jumped back in surprise. Whoa… And here he thought he had to approach the matter slowly. Though he wasn't exactly sure if breaking all five of them at once boded well for Phoenix. After all, this was his heart they were talking about!

"M-Mr. Wright, are you –" but before he could say anymore, Phoenix collapsed into his arms in a boneless, sobbing heap. Apollo was there to catch him though, like he always did.

Did I break him? The young lawyer wrapped his arms around his mentor's waist and whispered gently in his ear, "Mr. Wright?"

Phoenix was trembling, gradually soaking the material of Apollo's shirt with his tears. His legs were pretty much useless at this point, but that was ok, because Apollo didn't really mind. The latter was still processing the fact that his feelings were reciprocated after all – though he seriously doubted now was the right time to throw open the office window and scream his joy for the rest of the world to hear. So, he did what any supportive partner would do: hold onto Phoenix silently and just let him cry.

Unfortunately, Apollo was in no place to comprehend the extent of Phoenix's suffering. How could he? The brunette didn't even know that Trucy was his sister; that by extension would make him his –

Said attorney released a shuddering breath and attempted to push Apollo away, but that only made the younger one hold on tighter. And to further add to his confusion and turmoil, Phoenix found himself giving in. He was too tired to fight it anymore; his current state proved that. He wanted this, but…

There was always a 'but'.

However, Apollo didn't seem aware of this 'but' as he leaned in, eyes closed in bliss as he fondly nuzzled Phoenix's cheek, a smile on his face. He breathed in the scent that was distinctively his idol. Mine, was all that his mind registered. Finally mine.

"Mr. Wright, I've wanted to tell you something for a long time," Apollo swallowed, his throat having gone inexplicably dry from his excitement, "The thing is– about you– I've always…"

"No, don't say it."

Phoenix reluctantly pushed Apollo away, teary-eyed and troubled. However, that only rekindled Apollo's anger and frustration, who quickly grabbed him by the wrists and tugged him back.

"Why not?" He half-begged, half-demanded. "You want this… I want this… I've wanted this…"

God, why was his boss being so difficult? That breakdown was practically a confession!

Phoenix looked away fearfully; conflicted, and somehow Apollo thought he saw a shadow of the young man who had tearfully pleaded his innocence in court 14 years ago. His mentor was regressing, dangerously so.

"P-Please don't say it… Don't make me say it… I can't… I promised… I'd ruin you!"

Apollo had no idea who or what Phoenix was mumbling about, but it didn't matter. After everything that had been said and done, it wasn't hard to pinpoint Phoenix's fears and where they stemmed from. All his life, the older male had placed the safety and happiness of others before himself. Everyone was his responsibility: his clients; his friends; Athena; Trucy; him… Apollo couldn't image how dark and lonely those seven years following Phoenix's disbarment must have been – especially how he had to be strong for Trucy, force his biggest smile, and pretend that everything was alright. At least he had Clay… Phoenix didn't really have anyone.

"You don't have to feel responsible for me, Mr. Wright," said Apollo with a warm smile, before reaching up to cup the man's cheeks, thumbing his tears away. "And… It's ok to cry sometimes. I'm here. I'll be fine. You'll be fine. So you don't have to keep pretending anymore."

His protege's sincerity and maturity struck a chord in him. Phoenix stared unabashedly at the boy – no, man right in front of him, before chuckling as he reached up to shield his eyes with a hand, covering his tears. However, it wasn't bitter or miserable; it was the kind of laughter that felt right, like a great wave of relief had finally descended upon him, a sort of peace which had eluded him for years.

"Even after punching me for giving you that false evidence, you came back."

"I believed in you."

The hand fell away to reveal a genuine smile. It was big and warm and reached his eyes, and Apollo thought Phoenix looked beautiful.

"Shall I get rid of this?" said Phoenix with a laugh, holding up the pink sweater. "I wouldn't want to invoke the wrath of 'Mr. Demon Lawyer' again."

"Oh ha-ha. Very funny."

Apollo spared a glance at said garment, when an evil look entered his eyes.

"Actually," he pushed the sweater at the confused attorney, grinning cheekily, "you pull off the cute, crybaby look so well." He then grabbed him by the back of his neck and tugged him forward, so that his breath tickled the edge of Phoenix's ear. "Put it on."

Phoenix stuttered, crimsoning. But with the sexy way Apollo had asked, he just couldn't say no.

It didn't take long for him to change out of his suit and into his old university getup. The sweater fit him just as snug as he remembered, and his old red scarf completed the look. Nervously, he picked at the fabric.

Why am I doing this?

When he turned around to meet Apollo's curious stare, the younger paused momentarily to take in his 'new look', before breaking into a wide grin. Phoenix lowered his eyes to the ground shyly, self-consciously, the scarf around his neck barely hiding the soft blush across his cheeks. Apollo felt his heart melt from the sight.

'He really is cute…'

Phoenix fidgeted nervously, both hands going up to grasp at the front of his scarf. He lifted his gaze to meet Apollo's, pouting.

"It's kinda hot, don't you think, Apollo?"

Said man moved in to caress his face.

"Oh – he shot Phoenix a knowing look – definitely."

Phoenix snapped his mouth shut and bowed his head. As if his face wasn't red enough…

He gave a start when he felt an arm wrap around his waist. Apollo's grip was both strong and tender – a weird combination, yet one that made him feel safe and certain. He definitely didn't expect this turnabout, and a part of him still wondered how Apollo managed to accomplish this with a single sweater. Then again, the seed of truth had already been planted. It just took two years for it to grow and reveal itself.

"But, Apollo… What about – that is, you –" but he was silenced with a finger to his lips.

"I'm not a kid Mr. Wright, so stop seeing me as one," Apollo chided, his eyes darkening in lust. "When the time comes for us to make a decision, I'll make it."

Unable to hold back any longer, Apollo grabbed Phoenix by the back of his hair, tipped his chin, and smashed his lips roughly against his. Oh how he dreamed of this.

Phoenix gasped into the kiss, but it went muffled by a pair of demanding lips that coaxed his tongue out into play. Unable to do anything against that invasive muscle, he shut his eyes, submitting himself fully, and when Apollo began sucking fervently on his tongue, he let out a loud, needy moan. It was intoxicating. Surreal. Incredibly sexy. Saliva trickled down the corners of his mouth. His head was dizzy and his body felt hot. He could feel Apollo's hands everywhere: musing his hair; running up and down his back; across his chest; down to his –

Moaning like a bitch in heat, his legs gave out beneath him and he slid to his knees. But Apollo had no intention of letting his prey go and sank down with him, his lips never once leaving Phoenix's thoroughly kiss-swollen ones. Apollo's passion was raw, untamed – so different from his usual demeanor or courtroom presence. Phoenix melted. It was too much. But no sooner than from when he desperately parted for air, Apollo was on him again in seconds – licking, biting, sucking, devouring. The young lawyer's hunger was insatiable. Phoenix trembled against him; he could barely keep up. It felt too good, so good...

"A-Apollo… Apollo…"

This was torture.

And just when Phoenix thought he would surely pass out from lack of air, Apollo finally released him, the thin trail of saliva between their lips posing as evidence of their heated exchange. They gazed deeply into each other's eyes – Phoenix's hazy with pleasure and Apollo's determined and possessive.

"I really like you, Mr. Wright." Apollo's voice was husky with want and it sent an involuntary shudder down Phoenix's spine. His protege still insisted with the formalities it seemed, but why did he feel like he wasn't in charge anymore?

Apollo grabbed the front of Phoenix's scarf and pulled him close, nuzzling his neck before kissing it lightly. The older male giggled. It was kind of ticklish.

"Apollo?"

"Hmm?"

Phoenix searched his gaze like a flower seeking out the sun, his cheeks tinted a soft pink, beaming.

"Back there… You were really cool."

And like a spell, that sexy confidence was gone and in its place was an awkward Apollo, flushed from head to toe. The young lawyer moved an arm up to cover his face in embarrassment. Oh God… He'd really let himself go back there… Phoenix probably thought he was some sex deprived maniac or something. If Trucy found out he'd been making out with her dad, life in the 'Wright Anything Agency' could only get more awkward from here on...

Just then, he felt a hand upon his head. Someone was patting him. Mentally, Apollo simmered in annoyance; it seemed he was still doomed to the title of 'kid apprentice'.

"Are you alright?"

There was that beautiful smile again. His face grew redder if that was even possible.

"I-I'm fine!"

Phoenix laughed and helped the younger male to his feet. However, he was quick to recall Apollo's passionate confession and things resumed their awkwardness. At least to Phoenix.

"U-Uh, Apollo? About us… Do we – eh… Are we…?"

"I really like you, Mr. Wright!" Apollo repeated, this time with more vigor and determination. He pretty much shouted it, really.

"Ok, ok, I get it. I heard you the first time…"

Grinning, Apollo's hands automatically went for his waist and with a resigned sigh, Phoenix placed his own on Apollo's shoulders. What a mess… Then again, he did feel somewhat smug about this. Happy. Even a blind man could see how ecstatic Apollo was. The young lawyer leaned up to place a chaste kiss on Phoenix's lips and the latter felt his mind momentarily turn to mush.

"But… I don't understand," he reasoned desperately, "I didn't see any psyche-locks."

Apollo chuckled at Phoenix's naivety, "That's because it's no secret, Mr. Wright."

"O-Oh…"

Really? Did that mean that everyone knew? Why was he always the last one to the party?

"Anyway, how about we ditch chores and go on a date," interrupted Apollo a bit more enthusiastically than Phoenix would've liked. That, and he seemed really eager to show off his new pink-clad 'date' to the rest of the town. Phoenix's blush returned full force.

"Huh? Huh?"

"I was thinking we could go to that fancy French restaurant near the park. And then after that, the karaoke joint – I'll show you just how romantic 'Chords of Steel' can be! On you, of course, since I haven't been paid yet."

"Huh? Huh?"

"And maybe, if we still have some energy left…"

An evil glint entered Apollo's eyes as his hands traveled down from Phoenix's waist to grope his ass. The blush skyrocketed; Phoenix thought he would pass out. Apollo was going for his lips again. There was only one thing to do at a time like this...

"Objection!"

Author's note:

Thank you for reading! Just wanted to share my love for odonaru to the world. If you like my story, please leave a review :)