Chapter Text
Wright Anything Agency, the lettering on the door reads. Miles’ heart feels caught in his throat with tiny claws as every red flag, every warning sign from the past year catches up to him. The missed calls, the rumors, the silence in the papers for the past few months— it’s not like him at all. Certainly Miles has had a busy year, kicking off with the world’s shittiest month, but he should have checked on Wright sooner.
“Hello?” He calls softly, one hand hovering over the door. For reasons he can’t explain, he opens the door without knocking.
It’s messy; that’s the first thing he notices. Wright isn’t a neat person, per se, but he’s a workaholic who stress cleans. Somehow, the state of things here is the most concerning thing, or maybe that’s just what Miles’ brain has decided to fixate on. There’s movement in the far doorway, and Miles’ breath catches in his throat.
“Edgeworth?” Wright says softly. There’s a teal beanie pulled low over his mismatched eyes, and he’s exchanged his usual suit and tie for an oversized hoodie. “What are you doing here?”
“I just came to—“ Miles starts, and then stops. Because that’s when he sees the child sleeping on the couch, and realizes that things have irrevocably changed in his absence.
“Let’s talk outside,” Wright says, and Miles allows himself to be herded out of the office. It seems they’ll have a lot to talk about.
“Her name is Trucy,” is the first thing Phoenix says.
Edgeworth’s gaze softens. “Is she staying with you permanently?”
“Until her biological father comes back. It’s been a year, though. Between you and me, I don’t think he ever will.” His hand goes to his hoodie string; it’s a poor substitute for his badge, but it’s what he has now. “After I lost my badge… taking care of her is all I’ve got.”
“You lost your badge?” Edgeworth doesn’t wait for an answer, looking flustered. “I— I heard rumors, but thought it was just the usual gossip rags...”
“Nope; they were right for once. The great Phoenix Wright, disbarred over forged evidence. Who would have thought, huh?” He tries for a laugh, but Edgeworth just looks disturbed.
“Are you okay?” he asks gently, ever so gently.
Phoenix looks away. “You’re the smartest man I know. Please don’t ask me that.”
“I should have been there for you.”
“I wouldn’t have let you,” Phoenix tells him flippantly. Self deprecation is more familiar than tenderness these days, sharp words like safety pins holding together what’s left of his dignity. “I blocked and deleted everyone from my phone in the early days; figured it would keep people away. You’re the first person to come visit me since Maya stopped coming by. I’d stopped locking the door, even.”
“And yet you still chose to talk to me. That means something, doesn’t it?”
Phoenix raises an eyebrow. “What exactly do you want it to mean, Miles? ”
His words have the intended reaction of knocking Edgeworth off balance, making him flush. What he didn’t intend, however, is what comes next.
“What I want doesn’t matter, not now. But my... feelings ...for you...remain. I don’t expect you to reciprocate. But I don’t think I’ll ever stop caring about you, and all I ask is that you let me help in whatever way I can.”
Uh. Holy shit. Phoenix’s brain grinds to a halt, because he just got confessed to. By Miles Edgeworth, his crush ever since he was a nine-year-old baby bi who just wanted to hold hands with the nice boy who made him blush.
“It’s not just you who has these feelings. I— you know, before all of this happened, I wanted to ask you out. I had a restaurant picked and everything, and I was going to buy you flowers. But right now, Trucy is my priority. I can’t put any of my wants before her.”
“I would never ask you to put your— to put me before your daughter.”
Phoenix gives a soft huff of amusement, not quite a laugh. “Really? Miles Edgeworth is okay with playing second fiddle?”
“To a lovely young lady such as her? Naturally.” He looks aside, one arm grasping the other like he usually did when distressed about something. “Besides, you know I’m quite busy at my job, and I travel a lot. I wouldn’t be able to give you the time or attention you deserve.”
“You make it sound like it could happen,” Phoenix says slowly.
“It could, if you wanted. It wouldn’t be conventional— we’re not as young or free as we once were. But it would be us.” He clears his throat. “Separate from that, however, I’d like to support you however I can. Parenting is a difficult task indeed, and I, ah. Well, I think it’s quite important for you to have support that isn’t dependant on our relationship, whatever that might end up being.”
Phoenix is pretty sure Edgeworth is just stalling the inevitable conversation, since both of them have revealed far too many unnecessary feelings today, but that’s all right with him. To be honest, he could use a breather as well while he sorts out his thoughts.
“What did you have in mind?”
Miles takes out a notepad and calculator. “Consider it child support, of sorts, but remove the implications of parenthood on my part. Oh, and I’d like to pay for your health insurance as well.
“That’s too much,” Phoenix says automatically.
“A pittance compared to what I owe you,” Edgeworth says lightly. “You dedicated your life to seeing me again, seeing me happy, despite my initial protests. Please, for my peace of mind. And for Trucy if nothing else.”
“For Trucy,” Phoenix says numbly.
“Estimating two thousand a month, plus a standard family insurance plan with your medical history, for roughly ten years, and maintaining a steady interest…” He makes calculations and scribbles down notes and numbers, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose. Phoenix had never seen those glasses before. It’s positively unfair how attractive they are he’s glad Edgeworth can see.
“Of course,” he continued, “this would come from a separate account, one which would require a signature from both of us to make any changes to the balance other than those set down initially. Because regardless of how we may feel about each other at any given time, I do not control your finances, and my aid is not something that you should ever fear being revoked.”
“I appreciate it,” Phoenix says quietly. Then, “You don’t sound like this is just something you thought of on the spot.”
“No. I...have experience with financial manipulation.”
“Von Karma?” He guesses.
“Indeed.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“If you don’t mind.” Edgeworth inclines his head gratefully. “My father gave me an allowance of five dollars a week. Never forgot, even when I was upset with him. I later found out that he ironed the bills, and I loved the feeling of having my own money to spend. But Franziska and I only had credit cards. We were questioned relentlessly if we used cash, and reminded that we spent this money out of our father’s generosity.”
My father. Our father. A simple difference between the phrases, but not so simple in how they were used.
“I’m glad you’re away from him. Von Karma, I mean.”
Edgeworth nods. “I’m lucky I had my father as an example. Franziska has been carving her own path in the world barehanded.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s making her way, I believe. Last I heard, she and Ms. Andrews took a trip to Stonewall together.”
“Are they... together ?”
“No; Ms. Andrews prefers a more casual arrangement. And between the two of us, I think Franziska has a soft spot for Maya Fey.”
“We should set them up together sometime,” Phoenix says. “Of course, that would mean getting back in contact, getting yelled at, facing the very predictable consequences of my own actions…” Huh, maybe not.
“Might I offer moral support for that occasion?”
“Always offering support, huh.”
“Is that a problem?” Edgeworth asks.
“You’ve been so polite, this entire time. But I’m scared to make the first move.”
“The first move?”
“I’ve wanted you since I was nine,” Phoenix whispers. Leans in, planting one arm to support himself.
Edgeworth does the rest, meeting him with his mouth slightly parted. It’s more of a collision than a kiss, really, but it shifts and deepens into something like pleasure. Something that should be pleasure, except all Phoenix can think of is his hand pressed against the shitty apartment carpet that hasn’t been vacuumed in weeks.
...There’s something fundamentally wrong with him, Phoenix thinks.
Suddenly his lips taste like blood and poison, the word Feenie whispered in bed as he tried to remember why he’d agreed to this, and Phoenix recoils so fast his head bumps into the wall. Nearly retches from the memory.
“Wright?” Edgeworth is looking at him with concern, and something that might be pity. It’s hard to tell through the haze of self loathing.
“I’m sorry,” Phoenix chokes out.
“What’s wrong? Please, tell me,” Edgeworth begs.
“Dahlia.” Phoenix lets the word hang there. “It’s Dahlia, every time I— please don’t think less of me for this.”
“I would never, I swear. I know exactly what it is to be manipulated, remember?”
“She...” Phoenix lets out a shaky breath. “Iris doesn’t know. The times I had, I— the times I had with Iris, they were good. We were immature idiots, but I liked her, and she liked me. But I— I only realized recently, sometimes Dahlia would come. Always at night, and that was the year I had a single room, so there was no one around. She acted desperate for me, she didn’t take no for an answer, and— you know, I lost my virginity to her. I hadn’t planned on saving it for marriage, really, but I wish I’d given it to someone who respected me. And if I, if I asked her to stop, she just laughed like I was making a fuss out of nothing. I talked to Iris; she said she’d never gone further than kissing with me. It had to be Dahlia.”
“That’s assault,” Edgeworth says slowly.
“Yeah. I didn’t realize it at the time, but...yeah.”
“Can I touch you?”
“Please don’t,” he whispers.
“Okay.” Edgeworth doesn’t move any closer, just watches with a pained look in his eyes. “You didn’t deserve any of what happened to you.”
“She said she needed it.”
“Bullshit.”
“Will you need me, Miles?” Phoenix asks, voice cracking. This is the moment that could break him beyond repair, and he’s putting his heart in the hands of one who’s broken him before. “If we try this. Will you need me as badly as Dahlia did?”
“I could fly across the ocean for your enthusiastic consent, but if we get in bed and you no longer want it, then we can watch a movie.”
Phoenix smiles, a bit of his old spark returning. “Ever seen Detective Pikachu?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t,” Edgeworth says, dipping his head. “I’d like to, though.”
Phoenix studies him, reaching out one hand to cradle Edgeworth’s face, moving closer. “Can I?”
“Is this what you want?” Edgeworth questions. “I don’t want to pressure you.”
“You’re not pressuring me; I need you to trust me to know what I want, and I want to try again. I— I think I’m grown from Dahlia enough to take the lead.”
“Then take it,” Edgeworth whispers, now so close that their breath is mingling. “Take me.”
Phoenix does, and this time he knows, and he chooses to trust, that Edgeworth will never hurt him. The kiss is sweeter than he ever could have imagined, and there’s a sensation like a psyche lock breaking. It’s the relief of breaking through his past trauma, some part of his brain registers, while the rest is turned to euphoric mush. When they finally part, it’s with a giddy and breathless laugh. Edgeworth is staring at him with flustered adoration, and Phoenix is about to go for round two when he realizes he’s being watched.
“So,” Trucy says, still in her rabbit pajamas and watching them with a slightly bemused expression, “does this mean I’m not getting a new mommy?”