Chapter Text
Even with the little mishap with the water, Phoenix would say dinner went well.
He very quickly regretted inviting Klavier and Apollo, though thankfully, the two seem to have figured that out, what, with how fast the two left. And after that… god, it really was wonderful. It’s been so long since Phoenix and Miles went out for dinner, just the two of them, and Phoenix didn’t realize just how much he missed it. Going with Trucy is great and all, of course it is, just…
It really does feel like a real date when it’s just the two of them. And god, does Phoenix wish that, like any good date, it would end in a kiss. Just like a fairy tale.
“I’m sorry for inviting Klavier and Apollo, by the way,” Phoenix says quietly. He's walking Miles to the door of his apartment, which just so happens to be within walking distance of Phoenix's own apartment, which is where he's going after this. Miles had helped Phoenix find the apartment, and neither had bothered mentioning the nearness they would have to each other once Phoenix moved in. It just felt like a given, that Phoenix would live near Miles. “Just…”
“You have poor impulse control,” Miles cuts in. “I know.” And though he sounds exasperated and a bit annoyed, there’s a small twinge of fondness in Miles’ tone that sends a flurry of butterflies through Phoenix’s stomach. God, he wants the storybook ending to this date so badly. Just a kiss under what would be the porch light if Miles' apartment had a porch, right in front of Miles' door. It doesn't matter how long the kiss lasts, and it doesn’t matter where the kiss ends up landing. Just once, once, Phoenix wants to be brave and just reach over and…
“Sometimes I’m convinced we’re made for each other,” Phoenix hears himself say moreso than he actually thinks to say as they arrive to Miles' door. Miles probably gives him some sort of look and maybe even turns red, but Phoenix is avoiding looking at him, settling for staring at the Pink Princess doormat that Maya had made Phoenix buy for Miles since apparently, Maya didn't think she could get him to use it by herself. “Whether it’s to fight on opposite sides of the court, getting to walk you back to your apartment after a charity auction date that some of our coworkers won for you in a poor attempt to set us up, or getting to wake up next to each other, slowly and lazily and happily, I…” He shakes his head, still staring at the mat. He should look up. He should really look up. See how Miles is reacting. But instead of doing that, Phoenix saves his bravery. He can do this. He knows he can. “And I know that’s not how it works. That we’re here where we are because of the effort we put into our relationship, which is true no matter what we are to each other, but…” Phoenix, unable to take it any longer, finally looks up, his eyes drifting up to find Miles staring at him, pink, with his mouth open, though Phoenix doesn’t know if it’s from shock or because he both wants to say something and doesn't want to interrupt Phoenix, but either way… he reaches over and places his hand on Miles' forearm. “I think I’m just trying to say that I can’t think of a more perfect person to put in the work with, no matter what we’re working towards.” And, before he can lose his nerve, he leans over and, feather-light, kisses Miles on the cheek. Miles freezes, doesn't move, but doesn't pull away, and soon enough, Phoenix is pulling back ever so slightly until he's only not completely pressed against Miles by mere centimeters instead of mere millimeters. For a second, they stay there, neither pulling away and neither leaning further in, close enough to feel each other's breath. “Goodnight, Miles,” Phoenix says breathily after what's probably a moment too long, voice so quiet that he knows that if he were even just the slightest bit further away, Miles would not have heard him.
And with that, Phoenix pulls away completely, smiling nervously, before turning and walking away, not even pausing to take in whatever expression is on Miles' face. As soon as he's out of sight of Miles' door, though, Phoenix brings his fingers to his lips, fighting down a smile. He… he actually did it. He didn't think he would, but he did. His smile grows.
Yes!
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Once Mr. Justice and Klavier left, Miles would say the “date” went rather well. They had a truly fantastic dinner, had walked back to Miles' apartment, and then…
“Sometimes I’m convinced we’re made for each other,” Phoenix had said, and god, did Miles not know where he was going but god, did he want to. “Whether it’s to fight on opposite sides of the court, getting to walk you back to your apartment after a charity auction date that some of our coworkers won for you in a poor attempt to set us up, or getting to wake up next to each other, slowly and lazily and happily, I…” Miles' face had turned pink then. So had Phoenix’s. As if… well, nevermind. “And I know that’s not how it works. That we’re here where we are because of the effort we put into our relationship, which is true no matter what we are to each other, but…" Phoenix had looked up then, and god, Miles' had never understood the phrase "lost in their eyes" so well as he did in that moment. "I think I’m just trying to say that I can’t think of a more perfect person to put in the work with, no matter what we’re working towards.”
And then Phoenix had kissed him. A small thing, just him pressing his lips to Miles’ cheek, and yet…
Yet.
It’s a moment, Miles knows, that he’ll be reliving for the rest of his life. How Phoenix’s hand had come to rest right below Miles’ elbow right before he leaned in, how close he had been, how nice he had smell, how nice he had looked in the light of the lamp beside Miles' door, how Miles could feel his breath as he had whispered goodnight nearly against his cheek, and how, if he thinks of it for even a moment, Miles can still feel the light press of Phoenix’s lips to his cheek.
It had been wonderful. Truly. And Miles, well, damn him, but he wants it to happen again. And again and again and again, until the feeling of Phoenix's lips on his cheeks either disappeared under the monotony of the constant barrage or becomes indistinguishable from the feelings of all of the other kisses Phoenix has peppered across his face.
For a second, he dares to dream. To fantasize about what it could be like, to what Phoenix would be like, wrapped around Miles, holding him, and…
What was it that Mr. Justice had said, again? To consider for a moment that Phoenix wasn’t lying, and that he really did feel the same as Miles, and for all this time, Miles has just been an idiot who has been denying himself another faucet of the closeness he’s only ever been able to achieve with Phoenix? That being able to hold and be held by Phoenix in a place that they share is more than just a pipe dream, and that maybe, just maybe, it could be reality, if only Miles found it in him to believe?
Maybe… maybe Miles should think on that advice some more.