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"This is the least sexy thing I've ever done." As he spoke, Phoenix pulled his hoodie over his head. On cue, Miles' eyes widened.
"Why are you taking your shirt off?"
"Solidarity," he replied, shooting him a smile. "If you're being awkward and naked, I can be awkward and naked too."
Miles pulled a face. "If this is awkward for-"
Phoenix shook his head, letting the shirt drop to the floor. "None of that. I can put it back on if you're uncomfortable, but I'm fine. Can't get my shirt wet if I'm not wearing it."
Miles pulled another face, but he didn't raise a further objection. Phoenix kept chattering as he started his task; Miles would overthink the silence. Better to talk about nothing.
"Detective Gumshoe texted with good wishes earlier," he said, testing the temperature of the water of the shower head. When it was just right, he turned it away from Miles' body, letting it stream over his legs and feet. "I think he thought you'd be pretty out of it."
"I am, by my standards." Miles was right, of course - Phoenix didn't think he'd ever seen him so scattered, even directly after an earthquake. "I'm not exactly known for taking time off work, so he's right to expect it."
"If you had it your way, you'd be back there the moment your drains were out," Phoenix grumbled. He'd already caught Miles trying to get up when he really shouldn't have been, and it was only day two. "And stop looking at the shower head like that. I offered to do this."
"You're not even looking at me, you can't see how I'm looking at the shower head."
"You're glaring at it because you want to do this yourself," Phoenix shot back. "But you and I both know you don't have that kind of range of movement yet, so I'm going to do it."
Miles sighed. "Your evidence?" he asked, his attempt almost half-hearted. Phoenix had already won this particular 'please, Miles, I want to take care of you and am perfectly capable of doing it so just let me' battle.
"Your discharge notes," he shot back easily. "No excessive stretching of your arms, and no showering." He turned the water off when he got up to Miles' waist and put the shower head back in its place.
Miles pulled another face, but he let Phoenix continue, his eyes averted as Phoenix carefully dried his feet and legs and picked up the bottle of dry shampoo, purpose bought for Miles’ recovery. "Could you tilt your head back?"
"Less shampoo today, please," he said, doing as Phoenix asked. "It smells foul."
Phoenix nodded. "I didn't know how much it needed, I've only ever used the cheap stuff." Miles pulled a face, probably at the thought of the cheap, nasty dry shampoo Phoenix had favoured in a dark time during his degree, but his face relaxed just a little when Phoenix sprayed the shampoo and rubbed it into his scalp in small, slow circles.
With that done, Phoenix put the bottle aside and retrieved the wipes, holding one hand out to Miles. "Do you need a hand standing up?"
"I'm not incapable," Miles grumbled.
"Not saying you are." Miles was so bad at being taken care of it was almost laughable, but Phoenix refused to laugh; it wouldn't make anything better. "But you are in pain and have limited arm movement, which is the part of your body you need to push yourself up, so if you need a hand I'll give it?"
"I don't need help," Miles confirmed, pushing himself up out of the chair. He winced, a movement in his expression that would have been imperceptible if Phoenix hadn't been looking - just in case he needed help in the end.
Phoenix moved to behind him, wiping down the parts of his back not covered by the compression. Miles' shoulders were still tense, the area around his armpits swelling up slightly, but he relaxed a little at the cool cloth against his skin.
Last was the part Miles had been most embarrassed about; Phoenix tried not to make a big deal about it, he really didn't, but it wasn't every day that he got to look at Miles' bare ass. Still, he talked about nonsense—his plans for their dinner later—while he washed him.
"You want to do the front?" Phoenix asked when he was done, offering him another wipe. Miles nodded, but his movements were still tentative as he finished off the afternoon routine that would last for the next week, washing the skin of his stomach. For now, it was the only part he could do himself.
"Was there anyone else who was incorrectly informed about how indisposed I would be this week?" Miles asked, standing almost stock still as Phoenix helped him put his shirt (Phoenix had never before been so impressed by Miles' ridiculous number of fancy shirts, even if they were probably getting slightly ruined when not used for work purposes) and pants back on.
"I don't think so," Phoenix replied with a shrug. "At least, no one who knows me."
Miles chuckled. "I'm sure plenty of them know of you."
Phoenix rubbed the back of his head as he set all the bathroom things aside for the next day. Maybe he could accept Miles deflecting some attention, just this once. "Well, if they don't know me well enough to have my mobile number, they'll be talking to my out of office message for the next week."
Miles nodded, his expression going strange for a moment. Huh. "Did you need anything before you sat down in the living room again?" Phoenix asked.
Miles shook his head. "I'm fine for now," he answered. Phoenix opened his mouth, but before the words even escaped his lips, Miles spoke again. "And, yes, I will tell you as soon as that changes. I promise."
"Good." Phoenix smiled at him again, keeping a close eye on Miles as they made their way back to the living room, the most mortifying part of the day now firmly over.
Back in the chair that was his primary home for approximately the next week, Miles' forehead acquired a familiar crease. "That is not the least sexy thing you've ever done," he said.
Phoenix blinked, mostly from his brain's violent reaction to hearing Miles say the word sexy. "What?"
Miles averted his eyes. "Cleaning me while half naked," he clarified. "There is no way that is the least sexy thing you've ever done. You took the bar exam."
Phoenix snorted. "Okay, maybe you're right. It's the second least sexy thing I've ever done."
"You've cross examined Sal Manella in court."
"Third least sexy thing."
"Didn't you take a nap on a defendant lobby couch? And you got hit over the head with a fire extinguisher?"
"Are you trying to put your post surgery not-showers on my list of sexy things that have happened in my life?" Phoenix asked.
Miles chuckled. "I simply couldn't stand for your blatant perversion of the truth."
"I don't think perversion comes into the question of that at all." Yeah, sure, Miles was attractive. But the rest of the scenario surrounding helping him wash himself because he could barely move his upper body? Less so.
"As you wish," Miles said, cryptic in exactly the way he knew would frustrate Phoenix the most. "Could you pass me my laptop?"
"'Course." Phoenix went to fetch the thing, tucked over by the socket where it was charging. Just as he held it above Miles, he paused. "You're not going to check your work emails, are you?"
Miles looked away, his face screaming 'guilty as charged.' Of course. Why would Phoenix expect anything else? This was Miles Edgeworth, who basically had to be bullied into taking two weeks off to recover from a major surgery because he thought he'd 'probably be fine after a week, really.'
"Can I persuade you to at least do something else instead?" Still, Phoenix handed over the laptop. If Miles really wanted to check his work emails, he could just do it on his phone. Phoenix was here to take care of him, but he couldn't dictate Miles' actions.
Hey, if the guy wanted to be branded a workaholic by answering emails while drugged up on painkillers and taking medical leave specifically to rest, it was his choice. But if Phoenix could distract him with something else, he was going to.
Miles pulled a face, clearly considering his options. Just as Phoenix was about to open his mouth and remind him that he was there for literally any need Miles could think of, he spoke. "Could I move to the couch for a while?" he asked.
"Sure, do you think you can get comfortable there?"
Miles looked away, pink dusting his cheekbones. Ohhh, he was about to say something that was going to make Phoenix's heart stop. He just knew it. "If you sit on the length that faces the television, I could lie down and..." His blush deepened; in all fairness, Phoenix was pretty sure his face looked similar.
He smiled, mostly to himself. It had been months since they'd stopped dancing around each other quite so much, yet Miles still managed to make him feel like they were right back where they started, finding countless excuses to spend time together as 'friends.'
"Sure, I can do that," he answered. He shifted contents of the table next to Miles onto the coffee table by the couch: pill box separated by the hours of each day, a lidded mug with a straw poking out, and three separate packets of the various snacks Miles bought in preparation for the kind of appetite that came with way too much medication.
Once that was done, he settled down on the sofa, propping up his back with an extra cushion. Slowly, Miles pushed himself out of his chair (Phoenix knew better than to ask him if he needed help with that twice in the same hour) and made his way over, awkwardly lying down on his back with his head in Phoenix's lap.
Phoenix looked at him, squinted, and helped him make the adjustments so he could actually be comfortable in that position. By then, Miles' head was a warm weight in his lap, his eyes closed as Phoenix used the laptop to find the next part of the episode by episode podcast analysis of Steel Samurai that they'd slowly but surely been working their way through.
"Phoenix?" Miles' voice was soft as the podcast's opening rang out around them, but Phoenix couldn't exactly miss his words. "I love you."
"Is this about my lap, the great soup I've been making, or washing your ass?" he asked, but there was no edge to his voice; he was smiling too much.
Miles made a face. Phoenix bent down to kiss the crease between his eyebrows - it lessened immediately. "All of it, if you must put it that way. And everything that isn't this week, too."
"I love you too. You know I'd do it even if this lasted a hundred times longer."
"I'd do it for you too." At this point, they were talking over the actual episode. They'd have to rewind it and start again, but Phoenix wasn't going to say anything about it just yet. "If you ever decided to."
It was Phoenix's turn to make a face. In truth, he'd barely even considered the concept. The idea that he'd ever be able to afford it had been unthinkable for most of his life, and now? It'd probably be Miles' money. He didn't know if that was what made it no longer seem appealing, or if the feeling of need had just faded.
"We'll see," he answered instead. Sure, Miles was pretty coherent, but this was a serious conversation. For now, Miles'—and Phoenix's—whole focus had to be on rest and recovery. "I think I have pretty good boobs."
Miles stifled a laugh. "Was that why you took your shirt off to wash me? As a reminder?"
Phoenix snorted. "I said it was solidarity, but we can go with that too." Miles laughed again, and they lapsed into silence, Phoenix rewinding the podcast back to the beginning.
It was day two of the next part of Miles' life. It made Phoenix's heart light with joy to know he could be there every step of the way.