Chapter 3 – I Can Be Sweet
Edgeworth stares into the bottom of his tea. He blows, watches the leaves stir in the bottom. The steam floats up his nostrils and burns the back of his throat. It's 9:46, and the tea just isn't doing it for him. He craves release, frustrated with how his efforts seem to get him nowhere and he feels just as miserable now as he had before Wright had started coming. He tries not to question his path, not to cry, and not to think, and all at the same time. It's too much.
Things have started going downhill from the first nightmare. His nightmares have been more frequent the last few nights, and his relationship with Wright is straining due to it. The attorney has begun to nag him, always checking up on the prosecutor, constantly watching him over his shoulder. It makes Edgeworth feel like a mess, and he hates it. It's part of what's brought him to where he is now.
He stands up, clock now 9: 50, ten minutes until Wright arrives. Probably less, with how worried he's been lately. He pours himself a shot, downs it in an instant, and repeats the process a few times. Every inch of his skin is itching to hurt, to just feel some relief without effort, but he really doesn't want to reduce himself to that again. It's been about a week, and Edgeworth is truly proud of that 7-day streak. He downs another shot, his last attempt at not hurting himself and evading feeling for just a moment as the liquid burns hot down his throat.
The door opens, and he hears rustling; Wright has let himself in and is taking off his coat. Edgeworth sits back at the table and gulps his tea. It's still too hot and it stings going down. The clock reads 9:54, and Edgeworth chuckles, reminded of why Wright comes here now and feels the pang of an unreadable but nonetheless painful emotion in his chest. As his guest enters the kitchen, Edgeworth notices how comfortable his walk his. He snarls, head turned down in self-resentment as Wright sits.
Edgeworth sips his tea, some dripping onto his bottom lip. He doesn't care to get it, nor does he notice it. His effort to ignore his thoughts only draws his attention to his racing mind even more. Not only Wright, but his own career choices, his failure as a child, and his failure now, in this moment, to live a normal life and control his emotions, it piles up in his brain. Not to mention that he has now affected Phoenix's life. He looks, eyes glassy, to the attorney before him. The precinct has a sharp eye on him. Gumshoe is oblivious, but not stupid. He noticed that Phoenix was never available at night, poked his nose in the wrong spot, investigated. From his perspective, it looked as if the two were sleeping together. Of course, he had come to Miles about it, and the only thing more awkward than admitting that he was right was telling him the real reason why Phoenix was coming to his house every single night. Now, it is just one more thing bothering the prosecutor, one more person dragged into his mess, one more person to let down when he finally breaks, and his secrets are let out for the second time in two months.
Edgeworth wonders if he can get away with another shot. He presumes not, as Phoenix is giving him an odd look. "Miles?" he asks, and the concern on his face makes Edgeworth sick.
"Shut up," Edgeworth snaps, and stands up.
"What's wrong? Tell me!" Wright stands too, immediately in front of him, arms on his shoulders.
Miles notices how warm his hands are, and immediately regrets it. He thinks of how much this will fuck up their friendship, how the best thing that had happened to him since Christmas might disappear and he would be doomed to spend his nights alone, once more drawn to self-harm as sleep eludes him. But, in that moment, he doesn't care. Miles seldom drinks, so the alcohol has hit him hard; not enough for him to forget like he wants to hurt, but just enough to provide him with an alternative. Logic escapes him, and he grabs the back of Wright's head and crushes their lips together.
Instantaneously, Phoenix gags at the taste of alcohol and his concern triples. What could cause Miles, of all people, to drink, and what else might he have done? However, he can't help the twinge of arousal that pulses up his spine as the prosecutor grabs roughly at his crotch.
"Miles!" he shouts, wiping his lips with the back of his palm. He shoves off Edgeworth, who stumbles but doesn't fall. "Tell me what's wrong." Wright commands.
Edgeworth regains his footing and chuckles. "I can't sleep," he says, lids heavy and smirking. Wright feels his stomach churn at his slurred, seductive tone. "I want you to fuck me, Wright." He steps closer, and Phoenix is too shocked to step back. "Fuck me so hard that I forget everything."
"Miles," Phoenix says, vision blurred and head spinning despite the lack of alcohol in his system. "Why?" Is all he can manage to say in his surprise.
Edgeworth moves towards him again and stops when his face is close enough to Phoenix that he can smell his breath, but that he's not touching him. "I want you to help me forget, Wright."
"This isn't the right way to deal with this, Miles." Phoenix insists, not backing away, but instead using their closeness to stare into Miles' eyes. "I know you want to lose yourself in… whatever this is, but it's not healthy."
"I don't care," Miles replies curtly. "Do you want to help me or not?"
"Yes, but not like this."
"Why not?" Edgeworth presses himself flush against Phoenix, who only now realizes that he's been backed against a wall. He feels a knee between his legs and bites his lip. Miles can feel his erection if his smirk is anything to go by. "Clearly this can't be the reason. You like me, Wright. Help me."
"Miles, you're drunk."
He laughs, and Wright pushes him off.
"When intoxicated, an individual cannot legally consent to sexual activity. You're an attorney, Miles. You know this."
Edgeworth laughs again, this time darkly. "If you're not going to help me, then leave. It's not a crime for me to get drunk alone on a Friday night, just pathetic. Or is there a law about that, too?" He rounds the counter, grabbing the bottle from earlier.
"I'm not leaving, Miles. And you're not going to drown yourself in liquor." Wright snatches the bottle from the other's hands. "You're going to bed. Stop acting like a child."
Wright's words pierce through Edgeworth and he cringes. In an instant, he's soberer than he'd like to be, and he realizes that Wright is – well, right. He's handling his situation wrong and he knows it, but he'd still rather this than the alternative. He knows he's making more problems for himself, but he can't get himself to stop. Sitting down and admitting what's wrong and that he doesn't know how to deal with his racing thoughts, guilt, and night terrors is the last thing that Edgeworth wants to do.
"I don't know how to-" Edgeworth cuts himself off, his hands extended in front of him and grasping at air, as if they need something that they can't seem to reach. "I don't think I can handle this right." Edgeworth drops an arm, leaving one reaching, this time for the bottle still in Wright's hand. "I don't want to be here right now. Please, just give it to me."
Wright's shoulders drop. He sounds so defeated and he looks like he's going to start crying. "Miles, please-"
"I don't want to talk about it, Phoenix." Edgeworth sighs, face contorting. He struggles with his words, and his body doesn't know what to do with itself. He feels out of his element as he speaks: "The last thing I want to do right now is talk about it. I am constantly thinking about it, all of it, and all I want to do is sleep. But I can't. I can't stop thinking about it, and I can't deal with this. I keep digging myself deeper and deeper into this hole and I can't stop making all the wrong choices."
By this point, the tears have slipped loose from his eyes and he's shaking, small tremors running through his limbs and core. Phoenix recognizes that there's panic in his eyes, and he grabs Miles' arms and leads him to sit in the nearest chair. "Breathe, Miles," he tells him, and he gets a nod in response. He slips his hands into Wright's and squeezes lightly. "It's okay, go ahead, let it out," Wright whispers, and instantly feels Edgeworth crush his hands as hard as he can. The two stay like this until Miles' breathing steadies and he releases Phoenix's now white knuckles.
"I'm sorry." Edgeworth mutters, too ashamed to look Phoenix in the eye. He's still shaking, but he's not freaking out anymore.
"Don't apologize. It's healthy to let out your emotio-"
"No," Miles cuts him off, looking up. "I mean I'm sorry for trying to rape you."
"Oh." Is all Wright can say for a moment. He forces himself to speak when he sees the expectant look in Edgeworth's wet, puppy-dog eyes. "I wouldn't call it that, and I'm sorry that you've gotten to a point where you felt that was your only option, but… thank you, and I forgive you." He sees Miles' chest droop as he lets out the breath he was holding. "Miles, you need to talk to someone about whatever it is that's bothering you. This isn't healthy."
"I know," he snaps, but it comes out weak. "But-"
"It's okay," Wright stops him, not wanting to make him upset again, not right now. "Don't worry about it right now." He glances up at the wall clock: it reads 10:19. "Let's get you to bed," he coaxes, helping Miles stand.
"I don't want you to feel like you have to stay if I've made you uncomfortable," Miles retorts, and Phoenix only smiles.
"Don't worry about it, I'm fine," he says, still smiling, and leads Miles to his bedroom.
The clock reads 10:29. Miles and Phoenix are side by side in Miles' bed. Apprehension comes over Edgeworth as he reaches over to turn out the light. Once darkness surrounds them, he turns to his counterpart.
"Are you sure you don't mind sleeping with me?" Miles asks. He still feels horrible about his actions earlier. Wright chuckles, and Miles sees his Freudian slip. He can't help but panic, and stutters, "No, I didn't mean-" before he feels a finger on his lips.
"I know what you meant," Wright says, and Edgeworth can feel him smiling. "And no, I don't mind. Go to sleep, Miles." Feeling him nod, Wright removes his finger and leans back. Within a minute, he hears the prosecutor sigh. "Don't worry, I'll wake you if anything happens." He tries to reassure him.
"It's not that," Edgeworth insists, "It's just… what's the point? I keep making the same mistakes and I don't know why I keep trying." Wright sits up beside him to listen and Miles can feel his cheeks burn. "Nevermind, it's not a big deal, I just need to stop overreacting," he drones on, then stops. He doesn't want to burden Wright and make him worry over nothing. He lays back down, but Miles speaks up again, thinking that he's here to help him anyway. "I keep trying but to no avail. I can't stop myself from overreacting. I know it's stupid, but-" he pauses when he hears Wright sigh and sit up again. "I'm sorry, I'll shut up."
"No, don't." Wright rubs his eyes and gestures for the other to turn the light on. He does, and Phoenix continues. "I want you to talk about how you feel, but right now, you're drunk and anxious. Don't let your mind race. I know you feel like you can't control it, but I promise it will be alright. Calm down, okay?"
Miles stares down at the blanket that's now curled in his fist. "You don't think I'm trying to be calm and clear my mind?" Phoenix sighs and pulls Miles in for a hug. For once, he doesn't stop him and instead curls into the defense attorney. "And I'm not drunk," he whispers, "I just feel so hopeless."
Phoenix feels Miles' weight against him and he sighs, thinking what he can do for the stressed man in his arms. His head perks and he shift to sit up slowly, a tentative idea coming to him. "I might be able to help you clear your mind." Edgeworth picks up his head from Phoenix's chest to give him a confused look. "Maybe relieve some of your stress, too." He adds, looking from the floor to Miles and back, hoping that he'll understand what he's hinting at.
Edgeworth gets it almost immediately, eyebrows raising in surprise. "I don't want you to think I'm using you, and this will positively make things more complicated."
"I mean," Phoenix scratches the back of his neck nervously, contemplating. "I really don't mind, and I offered, so you're not using me. Besides, didn't Gumshoe think this was happening anyway?"
"That doesn't mean we have to prove him right," Edgeworth scoffs.
"You never gave him an answer as to what was really going on, did you?" Phoenix asks, and Miles shakes his head, shame clearly coming over him. "You could get him off your case and give him an answer that doesn't make you divulge more than you're comfortable with. Unless you're ashamed of being seen with me?" Before Miles can answer, Phoenix starts to ramble: "Which I wouldn't be offended by, I just want to know-"
"I don't have a problem being seen with you like that." Edgeworth responds quickly and confidently. He doesn't miss Phoenix's sigh of relief. "But that would mean that you're more involved with me, and it won't be easy on you. You already have to deal with me-"
"I choose to deal with you, Miles. I care about you, and if I can't make you feel better about yourself, I can at least make you feel better." Phoenix's expression doesn't waver as he speaks, making eye contact and keeping a strong hold on Miles' arm, as if he's afraid he'll run away and wants to keep him close for as long as he can. "You're not going to sleep anyway," he chuckles, extending his arms out to Miles'. "I'm not asking for a relationship, but if you want this right now, I can provide it. Consensually," he adds with a wink.
Miles blushes furiously, but beams nonetheless. "I do want this."
Phoenix smiles, and then proceeds to push Miles back against the headboard by the chest. He doesn't protest, interested to see what Phoenix will do. His anxiety persists, but the feeling of impending dread has left the prosecutor, leaving curiosity and anticipation in its place.
With a smirk, Wright whips the covers off and goes to tug at the other's sweatpants when he feels a hand on his, stopping his actions. "Wait," Edgeworth says nervously. "I- You're not going to like what you see."
Eyes widening, he remembers what he saw in the trashcan the first night he had slept over Miles' place and nods. "I won't say anything if it makes you uncomfortable."
Miles's face scrunches up like he doesn't know what how to say what he's thinking. "No, it's not that." He removes his hand from Wright's and looks away at a spot on the wall, avoiding the careful gaze the other is giving him. "I just don't want you telling me how it's bad for me. I know it is."
"Okay." Phoneix agrees. "I promise I won't."
"And don't tell me how disappointed you are in me." He interjects, looking at the attorney who is now between his legs. He notes how cute Wright looks like that, hoodie loose around his shoulders and his hands in between his knees, holding him up.
"I won't." He says with finality. Before Miles can say anything else, Phoenix slips a hand under his sweatpants and palms roughly at his boxers, smirking at the strangled groan that Miles elicits. "Now help me get you out of these." He demands, and Miles tilts his hips up so that Phoenix can shuck off both his pants and boxers in one fluid motion. Phoenix grins wider as Miles' half-hard dick pops up. Instantaneously, he shifts lower onto his knees and takes the whole thing into his mouth.
"F-Fuck!" Edgeworth pants. "P-Phoenix!"
The defense attorney smiles around the cock in his mouth. He pulls back, sucking hard, and glances up at Edgeworth's face. His eyes are shut and his brows are knit together in pleasure, mouth open but silent. Satisfied and thoroughly aroused, he bobs his head expertly. As he treasures the little mewls that Miles is making, he feels a hand grip his hair by the roots and groans. His jaw slacks for a moment and Miles pushes his head down hard. Phoneix gags as the head hits the back of his throat and his own erection strains against his sweatpants.
Concerned, Miles removes his hand abruptly and the head between his legs pops up. Before he can ask Wright if he's hurt him, he sees the look on his face; Phoenix's eyes are half-lidded and there's a trail of saliva running down his chin. A slight blush is on his cheeks and the thought that he looks like a slut crosses Miles' mind and he can't help but be turned on by it. "You okay?" he asks, and Phoenix nods before feeling a hand on his crotch and gasping. "Come here," he moans breathily as he pulls Phoenix in to kiss him, tasting himself on the other's lips.
Deepening the kiss, Wright twists so that his legs are interwoven with Edgeworth's and shoves himself up. In doing so, he pushes his hands flat against Miles' thighs and he yelps in response, flinching away and breaking their kiss. Phoenix immediately realizes his mistake and removes his hands, but it's too late. Edgeworth is looking away and his chest is rising and falling heavily, hands crossed over his battered right thigh.
Before Miles can have a full-on panic attack, Phoenix quickly places his hands over the taller man's. "Miles," he says sternly. "Breathe." The other bashfully meets his eyes and Phoenix can see his breath hitch as he genuinely attempts to steady himself. "Good." he whispers and presses a kiss to Miles' forehead.
"I'm sorry," Edgeworth chokes out, voice hardly above a murmur.
"Don't be," Wright smiles, but the light is still absent from Edgeworth's wavering gaze. Sighing, he slides both their joined hands to Miles' hips and leans back down.
Feeling Wright shift and the cold air licking his wounds, Miles closes his eyes tightly and turns his head away, uncertainty returning like a crashing wave, but he's caught off-guard when he feels warm lips pressed to the gashes. Snapping his eyes down, he sees Phoenix kissing his thigh, eyes closed. Something inside him gives way, and Miles feels tears rolling down his cheeks before he can process what emotions he's feeling.
"Stop that," Miles demands, pulling his face up to kiss him chastely. When he pulls away, he's met with Wright's surprised expression and searching gaze. "Thank you," he whispers, and Wright smiles, reassured.
"Would you like me to fini-"
"Yes please." Edgeworth replies before the defense attorney can even get the sentence out, practically forcing his head back between his legs.
Phoenix happily obliges, and Miles' cock disappears into his mouth with a lewd pop. Immediately, Phoenix starts up a quick pace and sucks hard. He feels Miles' legs clench around him and his breathless gasps fill his ears. Wright draws him deep into his throat and holds him there, listening to the hitch in Miles' breath as his own cock twitched painfully and his lungs beg for air. He pulls back, lungs refilling, and licks the underside of Edgeworth's member, lips brushing the tip.
"Ph-Phoenix, stop, I can't-" Wright's eyes dart up as his tongue circles the heads and he watches his words become even more mangled. "I-I'm, ah, f-fuck!" Miles shouts, and Phoenix feels his whole body tense as Edgeworth comes hard.
Phoenix shudders, swallowing everything Miles has to offer and watching as he bites his lip and rides out his orgasm. When the other goes slack and his shoulders hunch over, Phoenix pulls his head back, licks his lips, and wraps his arms around Miles' torso. He presses himself into Miles for a moment longer, ignoring his still throbbing cock, allowing himself to be close to the other man before he comes to his senses and pushes Phoenix away. To his surprise, however, he feels an arm across his back, not to push his away but to embrace him, and he smiles and cuddles further into the other's stomach.
Miles sighs. "Fuck," he breathes, and Phoenix chuckles. "You've practiced that too much, haven't you?" his tone is teasing, but he sounds genuinely impressed.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Wright laughs. He pushes himself up to look at Miles, who is still flushed. "You tired now?" he asks gently.
Edgeworth nods, blushing furiously, back to his awkward self. Phoenix smiles and kisses his tenderly, and Miles melts into the small touch. It's endearing to see him acting so happy and human with his guard let down, even if it's only for a little while. Phoenix knows it will return to normal once morning comes, but he can't bring himself to care, not with how content he looks right now.
"Let's get you to bed." Phoenix whispers, forcing himself away from Edgeworth's beautiful body. He kneels, and the prosecutor makes an upset face. "What's wrong?" he demands, immediately concerned.
His eyes flutter down to the other's crotch and he meets Wright's eyes shyly. "Are you okay like that? I mean, do you need to finish?" his voice is soft and his request is selfless.
Phoenix hasn't forgotten his erection, but it's not an immediate concern. Wright knows how Miles thinks. He doesn't want to make Miles do anything he'll regret or he's not comfortable with, just because he feels that he owes Phoenix or wants to repay him. He doesn't think his heart can handle that. Besides, he isn't here for his own pleasure; he's here for Miles.
"Don't worry about me." Phoenix smiles, ignoring how his dick twitches and his stomach tightens when Miles pouts a little.
The two lay together, slightly touching. Miles turns the lights out and places a kiss on Phoenix's cheek. "Thank you," he whispers, voice filled with emotion and heavy with sleep. Phoenix's heart swells and his cheek tingles where Miles' lips touched.
Miles is soundly asleep within minutes. It's the calmest Phoenix has seen him in a while, and he's grateful for it, even though he doesn't sleep a wink. He can't stop thinking about how amazing Miles looked with his face flushed in the throes of passion, or how he wants to see more of him like that.