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For the past few days now, Phoenix had made Apollo play a seemingly endless stream of poker games. Confused if accommodating, the younger man hadn’t put up much of a fight when the simple request to stave off some boredom from the slow office hours first came.
Thinking back on it now, Apollo *really* should have been more careful accepting.
‘What have I gotten myself into?’ Apollo thought exasperatedly, chewing on the inside of his mouth as he stared at Phoenix’s ominous smirk.
From the beginning, it was made quite obvious that Apollo was a terrible, *terrible* poker player. Unused to gambling and practically a beginner at the game, Apollo also projected his heart and feelings out into the open. Furthermore, for all his uncanny skills at picking up the tells and nervous tics of others, Apollo wasn’t very good at covering up his own.
Thus, for the first week, it had been a never ending string of crushing defeats for the frustrated young attorney. What made it worse was the way Phoenix began to complain about how boring it was to play against Apollo.
Even though older man was the one who selfishly dragged him into playing as soon as the young attorney was done with work.
That first week, Apollo’s voice had been raspier than usual after he decided to let go of his anger through his Chords of Steel. Continuously. Until the early mornings.
His landlady had come to talk to him more than usual that week.
It was some time in the middle of the third week, in which Apollo had played one too many poker games to count, that he really had to pause and take a look at his life...and his rather deplorable hand because all he had were two pairs. Compared to Phoenix’s better hand, and Phoenix *always* seemed to have a better hand, he was going to lose. *Again*.
“I fold.” Apollo scowled, his forehead twisted into a map of knots and grooves. He carelessly tossed his cards onto the glass table, folding his arms and crossing his legs as he let his body give into the plush cushions. He groaned when Phoenix casually laid down his hand, a *three of a kind* (which is ridiculous because the hand was literally *one* ranking better than Apollo’s own), and began gathering up all of the cards in order to reshuffle.
“I think you almost had me there Apollo,” Phoenix stated, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The blank, unamused look sent the older man’s way makes the smile grow, and Apollo wondered how his life had come to this.
“Now, how about we play another game, young padawan?” Apollo barely stopped himself from slamming his face into the glass table in front of him, but didn’t try to stop himself from burrowing deeper into the couch. The muffled rumble of laughter did nothing to make him feel better.
“Argh, fine! One more game Mr. Wright!” Apollo exclaimed loudly, his voice resolute with determination. His eyes gleamed, suddenly alight with a new goal. “But I just want you to know! Some day, I’m going to beat you in this game! ”
Stunned by Apollo’s usual loud voice, Phoenix blinked and stared at Apollo, eyes wide with slight shock. Slowly however, he smiled, the stretch of his mouth highlighting the older man’s scruffy, unkempt face.
“The Force is strong with this one,” Phoenix murmured, nodding his head slowly approvingly at Apollo.
“...Mr. Wright, please stop quoting Star Wars.”
After the third week, things started to get a little easier. Apollo never won any of his games, no matter how many good hands he had, or how well he became at hiding his tics and emotions.
For all that Apollo improved at playing poker, Phoenix proved to be a more than formidable opponent. While he didn’t have the best poker face, Phoenix had the most uncanny luck, and a rather unnatural ability to pick up on Apollo’s signs and tells.
While Apollo had his bracelet and own ability to read whether or not people were lying, Phoenix did not. And yet, he was able to keep up with Apollo’s own unique abilities, confident in his ability to win.
Thus for a while, things stayed at a stand still, with Apollo being unable to win but too stubborn to let things go. Phoenix on the other hand, enjoyed himself, prodding and teasing the young defense attorney whenever they played.
-----
Apollo squinted at the cards in his hands, conscious of the way he shifted his legs into a more comfortable position. He leaned forward just a bit, anticipation making him nervous.
“Hit me.”
The slick noise of a card being taken from the deck made Apollo almost tense, and he tries hard not to stare as his fate is dealt right before him. He quickly picked up the card and turns it over, careful not to let a single emotion show on his body and face. Apollo stared at the card and nearly shouts in joy. A 5 of Hearts.
His first flush.
Apollo tried hard not to smile, and chewed the inside of his mouth. He then glanced up, just enough to get a good look at his opponent. The slow, lazy blinks of Phoenix’s eyes meant that he had a bad hand, a tic Apollo had noticed from the beginning of their game. And for quite some time now, the older man had been staring and blinking at his hand. *Victory*.
This time, Apollo was more than sure that he will win, was confident that he has actually beaten–!
“Full House.”
“No way!” With an angry cry, Apollo slammed his hands on the small glass table within the Wright Anything Agency. He made a noise of frustration, staring in disbelief at Phoenix’s hand.
Distantly, Apollo wondered if Trucy had rubbed some her magic skills to Phoenix because just like magic, no matter what the situation or how good of a hand Apollo had, Phoenix always managed to trump him at the last minute. It was unbelievable!
“Aw, Apollo, don’t get so angry!” With a snicker, Phoenix leaned over to ruffle Apollo’s hair. The squawk of indignation made the older man laugh, and Phoenix gave one last teasing pat before pulling back. Scowling fiercely, Apollo tried to get his hair back into order.
“I can’t believe it! A royal flush, just like that!” Apollo grumbled, sinking back into the soft cushions of the couch, frustrated once more at his stolen victory. He looked down and quickly covered his eyes with a huff, as if trying to block the sight of the offending cards on the table.
“You should have believed in the heart of your cards Apollo,” Phoenix intones seriously, his face grim and stoic.
By now, Apollo was more than adjusted to the older man’s embarrassing quips and sayings. Still, the Yu-Gi-Oh reference Phoenix had made was more embarrassing than his usual ones, so Apollo let himself a moment of weakness as he covered his face to groan in pain.
Two months of continuous playing, and Phoenix could still make him want to be sucked into the coach by sheer second-hand embarrassment.
“How did my life turn out this way?” Apollo muttered loudly, the line of his mouth twisted into an almost petulant pout.
“Aah, don’t worry Apollo! Maybe, *one day*, you’ll get a win from me! But for now, how about we stop and call it a day?” With a wink and a wide grin, Phoenix gives him a thumbs up, unrepentant at his own embarrassing actions.
“Objection!” Shouting loudly, his Chords of Steel ring in the cramped office as Apollo jumps up and point at Phoenix’s face, as if he were an opposing prosecutor in court. “Mr. Wright, I challenge you to one more game! This time, I’m going to beat you for sure!”
“Hey now, no need to point fingers at my face you know!” Phoenix pushed Apollo’s fingers away, a fond if condescending smirk gracing his face. Apollo tried hard not to physically bristle in response, and bullheadedly kept on pointing, a fiery glare boring itself into Phoenix’s eyes. The older man just stared for a moment and sighed, the sharper edge of his smile softening into something more kind. Phoenix scratched at the back of his head and chuckled, warm and low as he glanced up at Apollo.
“Well, if you’re going to be like this, might as well play one last game before calling it a day,” Phoenix started, gathering up all the cards in order to shuffle them.
Before shuffling however, the older man adjusted his beanie. It was a tic Apollo had noticed in the middle of their poker war. Whether a force of habit or an automated response in order to do something with his hands, Phoenix always adjusted the edge of his beanie on the right side right before he would call Apollo on his bluffs. It was like magic.
“Are you ready to lose today, Mr. Wright?” Apollo demanded, determined and more than ready to win. Who cared whether or not Phoenix could read all of his tics?! As if something as small as Phoenix Wright being able to tell his every move could stop Apollo from winning this last game!
“Bold things to say Apollo, when you haven’t managed to win one game against me!” Phoenix smiled, a rare burning fire alighting within his eyes. The two beam at each other, a mutual respect and understanding that had slowly built itself the past few weeks flaring to life. And for the first time since they have been playing, a true sense of excitement and hungered passion settled between them.
They soon settled into the rhythm of the game, Phoenix quickly and expertly shuffling the deck and dealing their hands. They remained somber, their faces settling into a limpid stillness, focused and blank. The gravity of their final game was catching up to them, and they stared at one another in earnest silence.
And it was during this final game that Apollo began to *really* analyze and dissect all of Phoenix’s tells and signs. The smallest twitch, the slightest bit of movement caused Apollo to wonder whether or not Phoenix had a good hand this time, or if the older man was lying. The young attorney watched him closely, honed in at the very way Phoenix *breathed*.
But in the end, it all felt useless, because no matter how hard he tried, it always felt as if Phoenix was one step ahead of him.
Frustratingly, even after Apollo had forced himself to adjust his tells and tics the past few weeks, Phoenix seemed to pick up any new ones long before Apollo knew they ever existed. It was irritating to realize that for all he could easily pick up and exploit a *majority* of Phoenix’s tics, the older man was somehow able to read *all* of Apollo’s in return. Phoenix seemed to be aware of even the most infinitesimal unconscious movement Apollo could make. It seemed almost *impossible* to win!
‘It must be all those years of poker he’s played,’ Apollo thinks, nervous and, for the first time in a while, intimidated by the gruff, messily put together man in front of him. ‘I know that he was unbeatable, but this is ridiculous!’
Nearly scowling, Apollo barely managed to keep a straight face, saying a quick “Hit me!” as Phoenix dealt his card.
'But no matter how amazing he is, this time, I’m going to win!' Brimming with energy, Apollo stared intently at Phoenix, his gaze challenging and unwavering. He sneaked a quick look at his new card, hardly expecting anything *too* good, and nearly froze at what he had.
A straight flush.
Wisely, Apollo didn’t break into a large grin as he peered at the amazing hand he currently has. The last card he had been dealt with was a 9 of Hearts, completing the 5, 6, 7, and 8 of Hearts he had been given and slowly building up to throughout the game. With this hand, he could finally beat Phoenix!
‘It’s now or never!’
“Straight flush!” With a dull slam, Apollo slapped his cards down onto the table, his shout confident and sure. He stared at Phoenix’s shocked, slackened face, and felt a moment of blinding triumph and glee.
Apollo was surprised to note that he felt a moment of bittersweet joy as Phoenix tried to reign in his surprise, dimly aware that for all that he thought the poker games were a nuisance, they had been *fun*. The poker games may have taken up all his time, *and* distracted him from his cases, but they had also drawn him closer to the older man.
In fact, it had been sort of *nice* hanging out and bonding with Phoenix the last few weeks. Maybe the man had made a nuisance of himself to Apollo, selfishly demanding these games and eating into any spare moment of peace the young defense attorney had, had. But they had fun.
‘I had a good time…’ Apollo thought, feeling a bit hopeless against the feelings of warmth and nostalgia. He would miss playing against Phoenix; even with the time-consuming poker games and terribly cheesy quotes.
“Ah man, Apollo, you’ve gotten really good at this,” Phoenix murmured, rubbing the palm of his against the rough bristle of his stubble. The older man looks impressed if a little shocked, reaching up to scratch under his beanie. Apollo couldn't help but swell up with pride, absolutely *beaming*, a little flustered at the praise.
Apollo hadn’t expected Phoenix to compliment him, and the old worship and awe he had for the older defense attorney surged within him. Brimming with joy, he was just about to shout over his victory, was about to yell out his happiness until Phoenix casually laid down his cards. Freezing, the Apollo froze once he saw Phoenix’s hand.
"*But*," Phoenix stated casually, leaning back and crooking an eyebrow at Apollo's stunned expression. "You still have a long way to go, kiddo."
Staring in utter shock, Apollo leaped and pointed at the royal flush staring back up at him. He made a high noise of disbelief, gaping in shock.
"I can't believe this!" Apollo yelped, clutching at his head and pulling at his hair in frustration. His usual carefully, slicked back hair style was a mess as he seethed, his teeth working furiously at the inside of his mouth as he glowered at the royal house laid innocently on the glass table.
"Objection! Mr. Wright, it should’ve been impossible for you to get a royal flush! Statistically, there was less than a one percent chance for you to draw that hand!” Slamming his fist on the table, Apollo unconsciously made a case against his opponent as Phoenix grinned and began rubbing at the back of his head with pseudo-humility.
“Objection to that, kiddo! While there might be less than a one percent chance of me ending up with a royal flush, there is *still* a small chance for me to have drawn it!” Phoenix shot back, a dogged determined look on his face. “While my chances may have been miniscule, it is not impossible as you stated before! Your statement doesn’t hold up Defendant Justice!”
“Urgh!” Gritting his teeth, Apollo fell onto the couch with a low thud, scowling and angry. He didn’t have an argument against that.
“Mr. Wright, I can’t believe you,” Apollo gripped, resting his chin on his palm as Phoenix began to clean up their game. His lips twisted into a frown, and Apollo groaned, realizing that *now*, the endless poker would never end. He covered his face, grimacing, and mentally took back all the warm, good feelings he had over this situation.
In response to his statement, Phoenix laughed, deep and long, reshuffling the cards and setting them back into their case. He stood up and walked over to Apollo’s side, ruffling the young attorney’s mussed hair.
“You did good Apollo,” Phoenix stated, a small grin lifting the side of his face. “That was probably the closest someone has come to beating me in over 7 years. And as a reward, I’ll let you off the hook from playing against me from now on.”
Jerking in surprise, Apollo swatted at the hands messing up his hair, staring up as Phoenix smiled at him softly. He blinked, as if trying to comprehend what the older man had just said, and then shot up with a yell of surprise, nearly knocking his forehead into Phoenix’s chin.
“Eeeh?!” Shouting at the top of his lungs, Apollo blasted his Chords of Steel directly the man in front of him, mouth open in astonishment. “Wait, Mr. Wright...did you just say that you won’t play me anymore?!”
“Ah, nice to know your voice is as loud as ever Apollo,” Phoenix muttered, rubbing at his ears as the younger man’s voice rang throughout his head. He then leaned in closer to Apollo’s face, carefully patting the young defense attorney’s hair. Apollo was too bewildered at that moment to swat Phoenix’s hands away, instead taking a tentative hold of the older man’s baggy sweater as if to steady himself.
“I think we’ve been playing long enough, don’t you think?” Phoenix asked, smirking as Apollo swiftly nodded, quickly getting over his shock. “You didn’t win our last game, but you proved yourself to be an excellent poker player. Besides, if we were to play until you won, it would take *years* before you could catch up.”
“But I thought you wanted to continue playing,” Apollo half-protested, not knowing how to feel as he was complimented but also indirectly insulted by the older man.
With a sheepish laugh, Phoenix’s gaze went to the left, a half-hearted smile on his face. “Well, maybe! But we can still play a game or two if you want to! But not gonna lie Apollo, you’ve gotten good...but there’s only so much I can stand playing against the same opponent all the time.”
Suddenly feeling exhausted, Apollo collapsed onto the sofa, clutching at his head and sighing into his hands. He began to giggle, exasperated at Phoenix’s sly ways. *Of course*, the other man would say they should stop playing, even after instigating the entire two months of continuous playing.
“I’m never playing poker with you again, Mr. Wright,” Apollo laughed, leaning back and closing his eyes, feeling tired if relieved. Only Phoenix Wright would pull something like this.
Apollo really shouldn’t have accepted to the first poker game, but he supposed, dryly, that it was all worth it in the end.
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OMAKE:
“Apollo, I still want my prize for winning,” Phoenix wheedled, sitting next to the younger man on the couch. He draped an arm around Apollo’s shoulders, eyes gleaming as the young defense attorney cracked one eye open long enough to send a cutting look.
“Mr. Wright, if you’re going back on your promise so we can play another game of poker, I’m going to ask Trucy to magic all your grape juice away,” Apollo intoned, sounding quite serious and done. Phoenix gasped in mock-horror, his face a parody of terror as Apollo closed his eyes, too tired to care anymore.
Maybe if he hadn’t, he would have known what to expect happened next.
With a jolt, Apollo flinched as a dry, warmth brushed against his cheek. He jolted and flung open his eyes, turning his head so fast that his neck began to ache. A hand went up to his cheek as Phoenix stood up, whistling a cheery tune as the man walked swiftly towards the door exiting out of the office.
“Mr. Wright, did you…?!” With a resoundingly ear-splitting screech, Apollo turned bright red as he began to clutch at the spot where Phoenix Wright had just *kissed him*. He flushed, speechless as the older man turned around to give him a wink, and then began to yell out incoherent obscenities as Phoenix made his escape out the door.
“Mr. Wright, get back here! Get back here this instance!”