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Today was the day of Maggey Byrde’s trial. Miles was as prepared as he could possibly be - he’d investigated the crime scene, endured the chef’s flirting, and collected just enough information to back up the unfortunate waitress’s claim about another man being present at the victim’s table. He was as ready as he could possibly be for court, except…
As he got out of bed that morning, he began shivering uncontrollably and reflexively pulled the blanket tighter, cocooning it around himself. The shivering wouldn’t stop. Gritting his teeth, he shuffled out of the bedroom in his blanket cocoon, making his way to the kitchen.
Phoenix was already awake and making coffee. “Good morning,” he cheerfully called, filling a pair of plates with scrambled eggs and toast.
“Morning, dear,” he croaked. Only then did he notice how parched his throat was. He squeezed past Phoenix, taking his entire blanket cocoon with him on his way to the kettle to make his morning tea.
“Whoa.” Phoenix turned away from the breakfast plates, taking in Miles’ appearance. “Are you feeling okay?”
Miles shuffled closer to the kettle. “Just feeling a little cold,” he muttered, shivering as the blanket came open.
Phoenix stepped closer, gently bringing a hand to his forehead. His eyes widened with concern. “You’re burning up,” he said. “Why don’t you stay home today? I’ll call Mia-”
“And bail on our client?” He already hated the thought of bailing on a client, but he would especially hate to bail on Ms. Byrde. She had been a client of theirs in a previous case, and while Miles had been out to the restroom before the trial, Phoenix had been assaulted by a witness and left with temporary amnesia. He’d had to call Mia at the last minute and ask her to take over as he drove his partner to the hospital.
“Maggey will understand, just like last time,” Phoenix argued. “Besides, better a last-minute replacement than a lawyer with a fever.”
Miles nodded. Yes, he supposed that made sense. “In that case, shouldn’t you be there? You did investigate with me…”
“No way,” Phoenix said firmly. “I’m staying home to take care of you. Besides, if there’s any chance I caught whatever you have, I don’t want to spread it to anyone else.”
Well, there was no arguing with that. Miles relented and returned to their shared bedroom, Phoenix pressing a glass of water into his hands and pulling out his phone as he closed the door. Miles climbed back into bed, gratefully sipping the water as he heard Phoenix explain the situation to their superior.
Phoenix was back a moment later with a thermometer and a breakfast tray. “I hope this is okay,” he said as he stuck the thermometer under Miles’ tongue. “I always get really picky about food when I have a cold. If you need anything, let me know, okay?”
Miles nodded, doing his best not to disturb the thermometer. He was distantly reminded of catching colds as a child. His father would tuck him in and read him stories. Sometimes, when Miles asked, he would tell him about whatever case he was working on, letting him piece the information together. Even when Miles was in high school, it was something they’d continued to do on his sick days.
After about a minute, the thermometer beeped, and Phoenix took it out to check. “Only 100,” he announced. “I’ll be back with more water. Try to get some rest.”
Feeling absolutely childish, Miles asked, “Can you read me a story?”
Phoenix looked at him with heart-melting tenderness in his eyes. “Of course, love. Anything for you.”
Miles must have drifted off after that, because when he woke up, the blankets were tucked in around him and a delicious smell was wafting in from the kitchen. As he sat up, he noticed Phoenix coming in, carefully carrying a bowl and spoon. “I made soup,” he explained, setting the bowl down on a nightstand.
Miles leaned closer to the bowl and took a whiff. It smelled exactly like the chicken soup Phoenix had made that time they were both sick in college. He’d tried multiple times to replicate the recipe, but despite Phoenix’s protestations otherwise, it was never quite the same.
Forever grateful he had a boyfriend who could cook, Miles took a sip, feeling the warmth of the soup spread throughout his body. “Mmm. Thanks, darling.”
Phoenix sat down next to him on the bed, pulling a book from the nearby shelf. “Still want that story?” He held up his old copy of The Princess Bride. “I can pick something else if you’d rather.”
The Princess Bride was one of Phoenix’s favorite movies to watch together and he loved to reference it. Miles thought the book was better, but if Phoenix ever requested it on a movie night, Miles indulged him with an “as you wish.”
“That would be perfectly suitable,” he said, blowing on his soup as he shifted to a more comfortable position.
A few chapters later, Miles was finished with his soup. Phoenix marked the page and set the book down to take his bowl.
“You didn’t have to do any of this,” Miles told him as he came back. “You could have gone to Ms. Byrde’s trial yourself. I can manage on my own.”
“Don’t be silly,” Phoenix told him. “I stayed home to take care of you because I wanted to. Besides, I never got the chance to pay you back.”
“Pay me back?” Miles asked. “What for?”
Phoenix sat back down on the bed. “Remember when I had pneumonia? You took an entire day off from class to drive me to get X-rays and pick up my prescription.”
“It was only the first day of class,” Miles told him. “Nothing important ever happens on the first day.”
“You also made me a whole pot of soup.”
“Only a cheap knock-off of your recipe,” said Miles. “I could never get it to taste right.”
“And I keep telling you, it tasted perfectly fine to me.” Phoenix leaned against the pillows with a fond smile. “And you practically bought out all the Gatorade from the campus market when I couldn’t make myself drink water-”
“I never used that money anyway-”
“-and you took over my apartment chores, even though Larry got mad at you for making him do some of it.”
“Nobody should expect you to do chores in such a state, especially Larry.” Miles crossed his arms, remembering all too well how their former roommate had whined about having to do what he considered the “hard” chores for once.
Phoenix waved his hand in dismissal. “My point stands. You did a lot for me, and it would only be fair if I did the same for you.”
Miles conceded the point. He wasn’t sure that his actions were that far beyond what a normal person would do, but this was Phoenix Wright, the same man who had followed him to law school simply over a case of stolen lunch money in third grade. The same man who had been there for him throughout the years, defending him from bullies and supporting him through exams with pasta and energy drinks. The man he had loved quietly since childhood, never imagining his feelings would be returned, but who had surprised him with a quiet confession during an end of summer party. The man he had been dating for over five years now who never tired of showing him love.
“I love you,” he said instead, curling up under the blankets again.
Phoenix reached over to brush the hair out of his face. “I love you too,” he whispered as he brushed a kiss against Miles’ forehead.