"I'm home, dear," Miles calls from the doorway, and Phoenix comes to greet him. He's looking well today, Miles notes. He's wearing the blue suit. Combed hair just a touch out of place—windswept, he corrects himself. "Spending time outside again, dear? You'll get a sunburn," Miles chides.
"Sorry," Phoenix mutters, abashed. "I'll 'member the sunscreen next time."
The suit strains as Phoenix moves. He's been working out: His muscles are growing bulkier, and the blue suit is stretched tight over his chest. He'll need a new one soon, Miles muses.
"How was your day at the office?" Miles asks.
"The. . . yeah, the office," Phoenix fumbles. He pauses and thinks, searches for the words. "I took three new cases and won them all! It was easy. It's all about—" Phoenix flounders for a moment. "Compromise," he concludes.
Miles raises an eyebrow at that. Three seems high, and it's not like Phoenix to compromise. But, he reasons, he has been taking more ordinary cases lately: petty thefts, civil actions, traffic disputes. He's committed to filling out his legal experience—the man is extraordinarily experienced in murder, and barely anything else. Now he will need the experience: He hasn't taken a single murder case since that night. He will need time before he can handle murders again, if ever.
Miles reminds himself to be proud of Phoenix. It's a struggle. He's taking his commitment seriously. "Tell me about the cases," he says instead.
"Oh, you know. There was a. . . guy. Who was 'rested for. . . speedin'," Phoenix begins, and Miles wonders if he's been drinking. "I got him off the hook," Phoenix finishes proudly.
Miles startles. It's an odd turn of phrase, but Phoenix hasn't been the same since the accident, when Miles had answered a panicked call and sped to the Borscht Bowl to find a scene of police sirens and shattered glass, when Miles had awoken at Phoenix's bedside with a splitting headache and a sinking feeling, a knot clenched in the pit of his stomach.
The sinking feeling is back. Miles pops two painkillers for his headache.
They eat in silence, Trucy never once meeting anyone's eyes—she hasn't much, lately. Miles tries to fill the silence hanging over them. "The prosecutors office is up in arms again," he says brightly. "Taka got into the evidence room and stole a knife. And you'll never believe how he got in!" He leans forward and lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Through the roof!" he reveals dramatically.
He's met with stony silence.
"Who?" Phoenix finally asks, looking confused.
Trucy muffles a tiny sob. Her chair scrapes harshly against the tile as she stands. "I'm done," she mutters to Miles. "Good night, papa."
"Say good night to your daddy too," Miles prompts gently.
Trucy ducks her head. "Good night. . . daddy," she forces out, a hitch in her breath as she turns and flees.
Phoenix watches her go, his expression inscrutable.
Miles dumps his dishes carelessly in the sink. His head throbs.
"Give her time, dear," Miles says as his companion undresses. "She's still reeling from the accident. She'll come around."
"Yes, sir," Phoenix says. He showers, shaves, and dons the familiar blue silk pajamas (also tight around the shoulders). He sprays on Phoenix's familiar cologne and lets Miles lead him to their bed.
Sometimes, Miles wonders why Phoenix agreed to their arrangement. Perhaps it was simply the stability after the. . . accident. It's certainly a nicer gig than rough customers and cunning criminals, the mistrust lurking skin deep. He'd trade that for the comforts of good food and a roof. All for the price of wearing a stiff suit and learning some legal jargon, doling out a bit of affection now and again.
The sex is brutal, almost animalistic, Phoenix growling harshly and his claws digging into Miles's back. He rams into Miles, furious, aggressive, and unfamiliar. Miles grits his teeth and gulps back sobs, yet he still clings Phoenix closer even as he's split open, clings with all his might to the ghost of how they used to be.
The headache is blinding now. Miles really should sleep. He rolls over, kisses Phoenix good night. The kiss is a little too rough, canines unexpectedly sharp.
"I love you," Miles says.
"Youse too," Phoenix replies.
Author's notes:
Relationships: Miles/Phoenix, Miles/Furio Tigre
Characters: Miles, Trucy, Furio Tigre, mentioned Phoenix
Content: major character death, grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms