trace (vestiges)
He should never have doubted Phoenix- there never should have been any disbelief. Phoenix has never lied once about this, after all, although it has taken Miles this long to realize it.
He is not lying when he says he has always, always, been looking to the future- to Miles.
Miles shudders at the thought, although based on Phoenix's wicked smile, the other is clearly more focused on the task at hand than on these thoughts which continue to swirl around without hesitation in his mind. The other man moves closer, hand moving outside of prim, pressed slacks, causing Miles' knees to buckle and shake as he leans further and further into Phoenix's embrace.
He cannot decide whether or not he wants this right now- he is still buzzing from their case, his frustration and disbelief over the fact that Phoenix has yet again managed to undo and solve the entire case from the tiniest thread possible still surging through his veins, filling him with a strange, uneasy mixture of pride and embarrassed bitterness. He should have known his witness was the culprit. It always is, on cases where Phoenix is defending; how, he does not know, but he is growing sick and tired of being made a fool of by the attorney, even though he cares for the man himself more than anything.
But having those burning, fierce eyes concentrated onto his form like this is not how he wants to spend his evening post-trial. He has suffered under the scrutiny of everyone in the courthouse today already. All he wants is to take a hot shower and relax, perhaps eating something good to wash out the sour taste of defeat. He does not want to be seated in his car, Phoenix's skillful fingers bringing him to pieces from outside his suit as they sit in his driveway. He does not know if he wants-
But Phoenix does, and Phoenix watches, and the impish, knowing smile on his lips says it all- that he knows that Miles wants this, too, although his rational mind cannot come to terms with it thanks to his sense of decorum. Gods, how he wishes he could just give in- that he could just get out of his head for one goddamned second and accept the fact that Phoenix has chosen him, and that Miles wants this more than anything-
His peak arrives so suddenly, so jarringly, that he chokes on his own breath, a strangled scream quickly swallowed by Phoenix's lips.
His cheeks shine with humiliation as he storms off into his house once he is back to his senses. I cannot believe he would- those slacks are ruined- am I a teenager? What in the world was he thinking?
He is not upset. He wishes he could have stayed with Phoenix longer like that. His pride never allows it, though- never allows anything beyond the walls of his home, for prying eyes are everywhere, and he does not know how hold Phoenix Wright up as he deserves.
However, he cannot stay upset, for soon enough, Phoenix slips into the shower with him. His touch is gentle, tentative, as he works lather into Miles hair; that soft, rueful smile shines, apologies pushed into every single touch, his bowed head and lowered eyes a silent gesture of reconciliation and regret.
Miles finds it hard to name this emotion which grips onto his heart with such ferocity he can scarcely breathe. Perhaps he is suffering from illness; perhaps he needs to go see a doctor. At the moment, however, all he can do is leave his own frustration behind as he whispers, "That's hardly appropriate, Wright."
"You seemed stressed after the trial," is the soft reply.
"So you thought to alleviate that by…" He gestures limply, filling the air with words unspoken.
Phoenix's cheeks burn from the heat of the water and his embarrassment. "I should've asked partway," he whispers. "I'm sorry. That was my mistake."
Miles does not respond, merely sighing, burying his face into the crook of Phoenix's neck. It is so, so warm; warm, and smooth, and powerful. Muscle rippling under tanned skin with every movement. A hint of cheap cologne lingering before the scent of soap takes over-
He breathes in deep. "…I didn't say I didn't like it," he mumbles against Phoenix's skin, ears burning.
Large hands cradle him as Phoenix draws him close, a chuckle rumbling through his chest and into Miles' heart. "I know, Miles," he whispers. "I saw."
He's always been watching, after all. "Stop talking, Wright."
Phoenix's hands don't leave him, though. Miles does not mind.