Chapter Text
Wright is looking at him. Never averting his gaze. It's distressing, feeling the other man's eyes on him like that. He shifts a little, trying to find a position in which he is unable to feel Wright's concern, his never-ending worry for him, but as soon as he's turned on the other side, facing away from Wright completely now, he speaks, voice strangely calm.
“What's wrong, Miles?”
“Nothing.”
“You know I'm not gonna buy that. You came back from prison, all quiet and gloomy, and then you simply pulled me out of the agency and accompanied me here, even staying here with me.” He sits up. The sheets rustle. “I mean, don't get me wrong, I love having you over, but... It's strange. You told me you wanted to spend the night at your place.”
Miles doesn't want to answer. He really doesn't. But just like in front of Kristoph before, his brain doesn't want to obey his own thoughts. “You were right”, he finds himself saying, voice numb, still facing away from him.
“Of course I'm Wright. … … Okay, you don't even complain about my puns. What happened in jail? What did Kristoph say?”
He's silent. He has no idea what to say; he doesn't even know if he would be able to repeat Kristoph's words. They hurt. They hurt because they're brushing the truth. Thoughts he had had for a long time.
“Miles...”
“It's almost Christmas.”
“... Huh?”
“That's what Prosecutor Gavin told me. That's why he misses his brother so much.”
Wright shifts slightly and then there's a hand on Miles' shoulder. “Do you miss your father?”
I don't know, Wright. It's been so long. Sometimes I feel like I barely remember him. Can you miss someone who's so far away even in your own head?
He swallows heavily. “I think so”, he answers because he can't bring himself to voice his actual thoughts on this matter. “It's always like that in December. ... And Kristoph told me ...”
“What?”
“... Wright, do you think my father would be proud of me?”
Silence. Wright doesn't answer and Miles can feel his heart sink. No answer is an answer.
“Miles? Can you look at me?” Wright's voice is ever so gentle.
He hesitates for a moment, then sits up and even turns his head to look at Wright. The expression in Wright's eyes is so soft and caring that it almost scares him when he realizes that these feelings are directed towards him alone. It doesn't make any sense, in his mind.
“He told me that he'd be ... disappointed.”
Wright sighs softly. “Miles, that's Kristoph for you. He's... He's just trying to fuck with you. Don't let him get to you, please. You're Chief Prosecutor. Of course your father wou-”
“But that's exactly the point, Wright.” He turns his head away again. “He was a defense attorney. ... And a good one, at that. He always talked about... He was so proud of being able to help these ... innocent people. And he didn't care at all about whether he lost or won. ... I mean ... no one likes losing, but ... the only thing that was important to him was the truth. And I-”
“Miles. Stop this.” Wright sounds unusually stern. “You, too, seek the truth. What happened in the past ... during your first years as a prosecutor ... God, I mean ... it's hardly your fault. You've been manipulated into thinking like a von Karma. What's important is that you broke free of this thinking. You're helping with he pursuit of the truth – from the other side of the courtroom. That's such an important thing to do.”
Miles listens quietly, head still turned away.
“And I mean ... you more or less offhandedly ended the Dark Age of the Law.”
“I couldn't have done it without you.”
“Yes. And that's why I came back to be an attorney again. For you. Because you needed me. But in the end, it was you pulling all the strings. Miles, you brought the light back upon our legal system.”
“I-”
“Your father would be so, so proud of you. Anyone who isn't must be nuts. ... I know I am. And very much so. I'm indescribably proud of the person you became and are now. And I'm proud to be your boyfriend.”
He flinches a little. “Stop saying that. It sounds like we're in high school.”
“Hey, you were the one who told me that I'm officially your boyfriend now.”
He rolls his eyes. “That was all your daughter's fault.”
“I don't care.” Wright smirks, he can hear it without even looking at him. “I love being your boyfriend.”
“You love being annoying.”
“That, too.”
Miles sighs and finally looks at him again. Wright's grin turns into a soft smile. “Kristoph made use of his profession as a defense attorney to become famous. He killed two people. He has no right to talk about your father, because your father would have hated what Kristoph did. He has no idea.” And with that, Wright pulls him into a tight hug, as if to signalize that this discussion had now come to an end. Miles relaxes into his arms, feeling much calmer now, much warmer, much more comfortable. It's strange how they rarely touched each other in all these years of being enemies, rivals and finally friends, because now it feels like the most natural thing to just lean into the touch.
“Thank you, Wright.” His voice is very quiet, almost a whisper, but the gratitude is well audible.
“You're always welcome.”
They sit like that for a few minutes, Miles' face buried into Wright's shoulder. “You smell good”, he mumbles. “Kristoph talked about you, too.”
He can both feel and hear Wright's soft laughter. “What's that, now? Complimenting me before telling me what awful things he said about me? You're really not good with social stuff, Miles.”
Miles smiles a little against Wright's skin, but he gets serious again after only a few seconds. “I know it took me very long to fly over after you lost your badge. I also know that you were disappointed because you expected me to come over as soon as I heard about it. But I couldn't.” He hesitates for a moment, then continues. “It was because of Trucy.”
“Truce?” Phoenix lets his hands rest against Miles' chest to push him away, just a little, just enough to look at him. “Why?”
Miles sighs again, sitting back. “I ... tried not to, but I was reminded of Mr. von Karma and myself as soon as you told me that you ... adopted her.”
“... Oh.”
“Kristoph talked about that. About the parallels.”
Wright's face is completely serious now. He nods a little. “It was ... a hard time. I sometimes think about whether I made a mistake by taking her in. ... She's my sunshine, but ... I don't know if I was...”
“You were. Being a good father. And you still are.”
Wright smiles, but the gesture seems uncertain. “Really?”
“Yes. That's the one thing Kristoph doesn't get. That ... the parallels are only external. You are a good father, Wright. It was not my intention to cast any doubts on that. ... I just wanted to apologize for taking so much time before finally flying over to ... support you.”
“... Thank you.”
Miles nods and is promptly pulled into Wright's arms again. They kiss without any of the two really starting it, it just happens, and Wright's lips on his feel like coming home, maybe even more so than banishing all emotion from his face.
~
The hallway leading to the solitary cells is quiet. No sobbing this time. Just this unearthly silence.
Miles heads towards cell number 13, steps determined yet casual. No weakness in the way he's walking this time.
Kristoph looks up from his book and smiles. “I almost didn't believe the guard when he told me you came to visit, Chief Prosecutor. What a pleasant surprise.”
Miles returns the smile and stops just in front of the iron bars. Yesterday had somehow felt like he was the one being held captured by them. Today is different. He thinks of Wright's word and takes a deep breath. “Yes. I came to return the congratulation, Mr. Gavin.”
He lifts one eyebrow, eyeing him with curiosity now, head slightly tilted to the left. “Ah?”
Miles smiles again. “Congratulations, Mr. Gavin, for leaving an impression on me with your words. You were right, after all. I'm not immune to mind games.”
Kristoph chuckles softly, a dark sound, almost vicious. “Glad you came to your senses.”
“I did. And I wanted to let you know that you didn't succeed. Judging by your words yesterday, I suppose you and Mr. Justice did share more than a professional relationship. However, he is doing fine, spending time with the people at Wright's agency and your brother. The same goes for your brother, no matter how badly he might miss you sometimes. He often plays cards with Prosecutor Blackquill. You are into card games, right? As for Wright and myself ... we are both doing our job, standing in court and ridding our legal world from people like you. And Wright is a wonderful father. Your attempts at breaking any of us are futile, Mr. Gavin. I don't know how you heard about my involvement with Wright, but in the end, it's not really important to me who told you. You won't break us.”
Kristoph stares at him. The expression in his eyes shifted from moderate surprise to rigorous anger in just a few seconds. He's adjusting his glasses. Light being broken on the surface, hiding his eyes again. Miles smiles a little more, leaning against the bars. “But I'm sure you won't stop forging out plans to try. After all, time and your own thoughts are all you have left. I sure hope it's a pleasing hobby. And now, you'll have to excuse me. I'm awaited on a date. I just wanted to clarify these things. Farewell, Mr. Gavin.”
And with that he turns around and leaves. Steps determined yet casual. The smile stays on his face.
~
It's almost midnight when they arrive at Wright's apartment.
“I loooove having dinner with you at Gatewater's.”
“I know. You told me three times while driving home. Also, you're drunk and need to sleep.”
“'m not drunk.”
“You are.”
“'t's your fault. You ordered a whole bottle of this ridiculously expensive wine and didn't drink a drop.”
“I did drink half a glass, Wright. And I had to drive.”
“Mhmmm.”
Miles rolls his eyes as he watches Wright taking off his shoes in a very inconvenient manner, but at the same time, he can't help but smile.
When Wright is finally done, he takes Miles' hand. “Come, I've to show you something.”
“What?”
“'t's a surprise!” He pulls him towards his bedroom, and Miles feels both slightly uncomfortable and confused.
“Wright, you left the bedroom lights on.”
“I know! 't was on purpose!”
“Do you even know what a waste of-” He doesn't get to finish his sentence because that's when Wright turns off the light and the room is immediately filled by a faint yellowish glimmer. Miles blinks, confused again, and looks up.
“... Wright.” His voice is just a whisper, full of disbelief.
Wright grins at him like he does in court, full of smugness and sheepishness at the same time. “Great, huh? 't's like back at your old home.”
Miles looks up again. Dozens of glow-in-the-dark stars are stuck to the ceiling. He turns around to face Wright directly and simply pulls him into a tight hug. He can't remember if he had ever been the one to initiate such a gesture in the past, but he can feel Wright snuggling up to him, making a satisfied sound right next to his ear and he can't help but think that this most certainly feels more like coming home than acting like the heartless prosecutor he once was.
He doesn't even care that his own thoughts are the epitome of kitsch.