Prompt: aro/ace Edgeworth fluff.
References the DLC case from SoJ, but only very vaguely, as I hadn't finished playing through it when I wrote this.
A few days after the Sprocket case had been resolved, Phoenix called, asking if he could come over that evening. At this point in their friendship, such a question wasn't rare, but for some reason Miles felt himself tense at the idea. A strange sense of foreboding crept over him.
...It was ridiculous to be nervous. Phoenix was his oldest and dearest friend, and honestly the question was the definition of innocuous. He replied in the affirmative and then put it out of his mind for the rest of the day.
Phoenix arrived in the evening, carrying a bag from a nearby grocery store and smiling wide. He came in quickly, patting Pess on the head and slipping off his shoes at the door to head straight inside to the fridge, where he unloaded two ice-cream bars into the freezer. All without more than a single word of greeting.
Watching him move about the kitchen so comfortably should have put Miles at ease. It had before, many times. He'd spent most of his life in such a rigid home environment, and most of the friends he'd made since were never invited over in the first place, that every time he saw Phoenix relaxing into his space so easily it was a shock. A good one; reminiscent of his childhood in the best of ways, of the comfort with one another they'd once had and somehow regained after so many years and against so many odds.
Today felt a little different.
He told himself, again, that he was imagining things. There was nothing to worry about here. There was no basis whatsoever for his suspicions. He'd been the one to start the conversation in the first place, and Phoenix hadn't gone anywhere inappropriate with it by any means. It had just been one of his usual comments, nothing too deep, and this visit probably had nothing to do with it anyway. It had been almost a week since then. The trial was over. There was no need for any more wedding talk.
For the next little while, he almost managed to convince himself of that. Phoenix didn't bring it up, and the conversation was easy and light. They chatted about old friends and new cases, ate a simple meal of spaghetti, took Pess on a walk about the neighborhood, and finally settled down on the balcony in the twilight to watch the sun set while eating the ice cream bars Phoenix had brought. It wasn't anything they hadn't done plenty of times before.
But then Phoenix fell silent. Miles looked over at him and felt himself stop breathing: Phoenix sat very still, ice cream still unopened his lap, his eyes fixed on Miles. He looked very serious, half in darkness, half bathed in the final rays of sunlight.
"Hey, Miles," he said slowly. "I was just... wondering something. Did you get an invite to the new wedding?"
"Er, no," Miles cleared his throat. Fiddled with the discarded wrapper of his own dessert, rolling it across his leg. "No. I did prosecute the bride, you know."
"Right, right." Phoenix huffed a laugh, but his gaze never left Miles' own. "Well, then, uh... Would you want to come with me?"
Miles felt a thick lump in his throat. He didn't have any appetite anymore, but he took a bite of his ice-cream anyway, just to delay having to answer.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said finally. "They probably wouldn't want me there."
"I don't think they'd mind that much," Phoenix said, finally looking away. "But if it would be too awkward for you, then..."
"Yes, yes that's it," Miles agreed quickly. "I wouldn't be comfortable at all intruding on their happy occasion."
He looked away as well, staring unfocusedly at the orange and red and deepening blue in the sky as he ate some more ice cream. Phoenix had brought him caramel, his favorite. It tasted horrible.
Not again, he thought, which was stupid because this had never happened before. Not with anyone who really mattered. Once or twice in school, his classmates had misinterpreted their interactions. And people tended to assume that because he was good-looking and polite, he was some kind of ladies' man, despite no supporting evidence. Wendy Oldbag was probably the worst harasser he'd ever had, but it had been years since he'd even heard from her. Lang had made a single vaguely inviting statement, then never brought up any such thing again after Miles hadn't responded in kind. It had been actually very kind of him and not nearly as awkward as it should have been, and that had been the closest Miles had come in years to getting honestly hit on by someone he knew personally. This wasn't the same at all. This was his best friend.
"It's just," Phoenix said quietly, "I've been thinking about what you said back then. That it was romantic."
"W-well, that's just objectively true," Miles mumbled. He stared hard at the sky. "It doesn't mean I actually want to attend."
"I mean, it's not objective," Phoenix said. "I thought it was kind of over the top and tacky, for one. But - that's not my point. Um, it made me realize I'd never really thought about you and romance in the same context before, you know?"
Me neither, Miles thought.
When he didn't answer, Phoenix went on.
"We've been friends for a long time, but we've never really talked about that stuff. I know I - Trucy's been bugging me about getting her a new mom for ages, but I have-. I don't really like to talk about it, but I kind of have a hard time trusting people romantically, ever since college."
"That's understandable," Miles said tightly. He knew what Phoenix was referencing, of course. After defending Iris for that first day, he'd paid attention to the rest of the trial, and even looked up some old reports on the earlier Hawthorne trials. "There's nothing wrong with taking your time, after something like that."
"Some people might say I've taken too much time," Phoenix said wryly. "But... thanks. I haven't really felt like I want to start anything new anyway. After everything with my badge, and then adopting Trucy, and getting it back... I don't know, I guess I figured if it happens again that's fine, but I really don't need to find a relationship to be happy. I've got plenty to be happy about already."
"You do," Miles agreed. He could feel it coming, the moment that this swung back around to him, the until now hovering behind every new thing Phoenix said. He didn't want it to be there but why else would this whole conversation be so charged? Why else would Phoenix even be bringing this up?
"And, I was wondering..."
Miles braced himself. He felt sure their friendship could survive a rejection. It would hurt, no doubt, and probably there would be distance between them again. Probably Phoenix wouldn't want to come over anymore for a while, wouldn't want to invite him to Trucy's shows. But that wouldn't last forever. It would be okay in the end.
"I was wondering if you were like that," Phoenix finished.
Miles blinked. He turned to look at his friend for clarification, but the sun was far enough down now that Phoenix's face was fully in shadow. It was hard to tell much beyond the basics of him looking back.
"What?" he asked.
"I might be totally off base here," Phoenix said. "But, when you said you didn't have any plans to settle down or get married, I thought, 'Oh. Of course.'"
"What?" Miles repeated.
"I left my magatama at home," Phoenix said, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his head now. "It didn't really feel like the right thing to have for a question like this. So, if you don't want to answer - or, or whatever you do answer, it's fine. I'll believe you. I just thought, if you really aren't at all interested in that kind of thing, you might want to talk about it. Or if you are interested, I guess."
"I don't want to talk about it," Miles said slowly. He hadn't even considered the magatama; if Phoenix had brought it, no doubt there'd have visible Psycho-locks from the beginning of this conversation. It was... strange, for him not to have brought it along.
"Okay!" Phoenix said, and clapped his hands against his knees. "Okay, we won't talk about it! Sorry."
"No, it's fine, I..." Miles reached up and gripped his arm to ground himself. "You're - right. I don't. I don't like that sort of thing."
"Oh," Phoenix said, nodding. "Right, I thought - that makes sense."
"A-any of it," Miles went on, staring fixedly at him now and talking fast: "Not for me, personally. I mean, I understand when something is romantic or, or if someone looks attractive, but I don't - it's not for me."
"Yeah," Phoenix said again. Then, "Thank you, Miles."
"...I don't understand."
"You said you don't want to talk about it. You don't have to, we don't have to ever bring it up again. But I just... I felt like if I didn't say anything you wouldn't know if you could talk about it if you wanted, with me, but you can. Anytime. So..." Phoenix trailed off, his voice sounding thick. "Um, I just, thanks for trusting me enough to say it."
He raised an arm up to his face.
"...Are you crying?" Miles asked.
"No!" Phoenix lied. He sniffed loudly and wiped at his face again, and Miles stared at him. Love rose within him, spilled out his mouth in an unfiltered rush.
"I thought you were trying to ask me on a date, at first."
"Oh my god. No, I mean - maybe when I was younger I had a crush on you for like a minute but that was so long ago- hey, are you laughing at me?"
Miles shook his head, fist pressed to his lips.
"I'm not laughing at you," he said, tight around the giggles that wanted to come out. "I'm not," he repeated, unable to explain what this feeling even was.
He'd never told anyone this besides Franziska. He'd never wanted to risk it coming out wrong, or someone having a bad reaction. He was bad with interpersonal discussions in the first place so he didn't have any confidence in his ability to explain, and he knew that to many people not wanting either romance or sex was seen as a defect at best, let alone wanting neither one. Besides, he just didn't feel any need to bring up the topic most of the time. If he'd been pressed, he'd probably have expected Phoenix to support him. But he'd thought it might be a clumsy thing, thought he'd have to explain and justify and maybe still not be understood for a long time, so this -
"Don't laugh at me," Phoenix snickered. "Ahhh, I asked you to be my plus-one to a wedding didn't I, god. I totally get why you thought - ugh. This is really embarrassing."
"Well, you making a fool of yourself is nothing new," Miles said, as snottily as he was able before descending fully into laughter as well.
"Shut uppp," his friend complained, playfully swatting at him, and for some reason it made Miles laugh even harder. He couldn't stop now if he wanted to.
The sun sank below the horizon like that, the two of them laughing in the dark. Unattended ice cream melting on the balcony floor. It got colder, and the moon came out.
Eventually, they got up. Cleaned off the floor, went back inside. Phoenix reminded Miles that Trucy had a show in a few days, and he reminded Phoenix that he'd never missed one yet and had no intention of starting now. Phoenix pointed a stern finger at him and told him he'd better not, and Miles rolled his eyes, and Phoenix's grin got huge. He put his shoes back on and turned to go, then stopped. Turned back to bend over and pet Pess one last time goodbye. Gave Miles a casual pat on the shoulder too, depositing several long white hairs in his wake, and waved one last time before heading out, ignoring Miles' offer to drive him back.
Just like always. Nothing had changed.
Miles brushed the hair off his shirt. Then he knelt down and rendered that action pointless by pulling Pess into a hug. He buried his face in warm soft fur and felt an eager tail thumping against his leg and a wet nose on his cheek. And he smiled, and smiled, and smiled.