Chapter Text
It was an ordinary day in the Wright and Co. Law offices, which was how every disaster started for Phoenix Wright. Today’s disaster appeared in the form of Miles Edgeworth, his childhood friend turned courtroom rival, being arrested for murder.
As soon as they were sitting across from each other, two inches of bulletproof glass between them, Phoenix knew what he needed to do to save the despondent man.
“Your attorney’s badge…? I-”
“Edgeworth. Let me defend you.”
“...You really aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
A sigh. “Fine. Please defend me…Phoenix.”
That was when the second disaster of the day began. Simultaneously, both men hunched over from a searing pain along their backs. The small golden badge clattered onto the table when Phoenix reached to grasp the edge. The guard standing behind Edgeworth, a tall man with beige feathered wings, looked over in shock. Before he made a move to check on them, a look of knowing and then pity spread across his face. He stepped back into place, neutrality settling back into his features where it belonged.
Maya, however, looked rapidly between them with concern. “What the heck, guys?! Are you okay?”
Just as quickly as it appeared, the pain began to fade.
“Sorry guys, I have no idea what that was about. Must be my old man back-” Phoenix started to joke before he looked back to Edgeworth’s face. A million emotions were laid bare on it, where usually it was an impossible task to detect even one.
“You…you felt it too?” Edgeworth nearly whispered. Phoenix stared at him, confused, until the realization dawned on him too. The spiky haired man tore off his signature blue jacket and started to unbutton the shirt underneath before Maya’s brain caught up with what she was seeing.
“Whoa! Nick! You can’t strip in a detention center! No one wants to see that!” she cried.
“Maya, tell me if there are feathers on my back.”
“Feathers? Why would there be- OH!” Maya said.
Edgeworth simply stared off into space, anxiously clutching his arm and looking anywhere but at Phoenix’s now exposed chest.
The wrinkled white dress shirt fell to Phoenix’s elbows. Bracing himself with a deep breath, he turned to face his back towards Edgeworth and Maya.
“Yep, those are silver feathers alright,” Maya announced. Phoenix’s entirely worldview slotted perfectly into place and immediately shattered again.
I guess I kind of always expected this to happen. But now?! Why now?! Phoenix screams internally. Edgeworth wasn’t even breathing.
Phoenix pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it closed before he met Edgeworth’s eyes again.
“So…um…now what?” Phoenix dared to ask. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile: a clear nervous tell.
Edgeworth hesitated. “I suppose now you get me out of prison.”
“And then?”
“Then we figure it out.”
Phoenix dared to hear something like hope in Edgeworth’s voice. This man was his soulmate, and he was going to free him from this false accusation.
--Three days later--
The trial was over. Phoenix was dead on his feet, ready to collapse at any moment now that the adrenaline had run out. Miles was free. His job was done. Now at the forefront of his mind was the excruciating pain in his back. To avoid raising any questions about a conflict of interest, Miles and Phoenix had decided to keep their wings under wraps during the trial. For the three longest days of both of their lives, Miles and Phoenix had endured the sprouting of feathers from their backs and into tightly wound bandages. Only Maya and Gumshoe knew, out of pure necessity. That was how the four of them wound up hailing a cab to Edgeworth’s apartment less than ten minutes after he was declared a free man.
Gumshoe supported one man on each shoulder as they trudged up the stairs with Maya close behind. The bandages were removed, allowing nearly fully formed wings to unfurl from their crumpled masses. Maya and Gumshoe left, leaving Miles and Phoenix alone in the lush yet stuffy apartment.
Phoenix cleared his throat after a moment of awkward silence. “So, I read that physical contact with your soulmate could ease the pain a bit- OOF!” Phoenix’s train of thought was interrupted by the other man nearly tackling him onto the couch. He looked down to see Miles’s arms wrapped around his waist and his face smushed into Phoenix’s chest. A fond smile replaced the discombobulated expression.
“At this point, I’ll try anything,” Miles mumbled.
They lay together in silence, neither of them have any idea for how long. Those articles were right: the pain has subsided quite a bit and they both feel as though their minds are slowly returning to them. It's Phoenix who decides to speak up first.
"So, we should probably talk about this. What it means for…for us," he says gently, trying to hide the nervous tremble in his voice.
A deep, rumbling sigh comes from Miles. His breath tickles Phoenix's bare chest. "Yes, I suppose we should."
The silence returns for a few beats.
"How long have you known?" Miles asks.
"I didn't know until three days ago, honestly. I've suspected it since we were kids. I stopped when you moved away. I really stopped when I…when I thought it was…her. And then I started suspecting again when it wasn't her."
"Hmph. I suppose that makes sense."
"How long have you known?" Phoenix echoes.
"I also didn't know. I didn't think I would ever get a soulmate, given that my life had been so uprooted from its clearest course. Then, when you came back into my life, I didn't even allow the thought to cross my mind. I had…other things to worry about," Miles admits.
"And that leaves us with the big question: now what? What do you want from this? From me?" Phoenix asks.
Miles pauses, forced to confront the question he'd been foolishly hoping to avoid since the first feathers sprouted.
“Well… to be completely honest, I’m not sure. l…” Miles begins. The “love you” dies on his tongue, not yet ready to be said. “Our careers. We’ve only faced each other twice, but… questions could still be raised. Redd White. Dee Valesquez. They could both be retried if the court suspects a conflict of interest.”
At that, Phoenix hesitates. “I’m not worried. I got them convicted once, I can damn well make sure it happens again. Whatever I have to throw at that bastard Redd White, I will.” Phoenix’s throat goes tight with determination and a fresh wave of grief. It’s only been three months since Mia was killed. He knows that she wouldn’t (doesn’t? This new revelation about the afterlife gets confusing) want him to throw away his happiness just to avenge her. In fact, Phoenix gets the very strong sensation that Mia doesn’t want that.
“Anyway, before you finish answering, I should probably tell you I’ve never been with a guy before like you have,” Phoenix continues.
“Ngk?! Are you assuming that I’m gay?” Miles balks.
“...am I wrong?”
“...no. You are correct,” Miles huffs.
Phoenix smiled down at him with what he thought was fondness until he said, “Ha! I knew you could ‘just tell!’ Maya owes me five bucks now. I won’t actually get it, but the victory still stands.” He looks into the distance, looking smug, while Miles’s expression turns incredulous. He sits up and turns to face Phoenix.
“You and Miss Fey wagered money on my sexuality?!”
“What? No! She just insists that you can’t tell when someone’s gay unless they tell you first, but gaydar is totally a thing. I’ve suspected it from you since we were kids, and we barely even knew what being gay was back then. Maya is just oblivious to this stuff,” Phoenix explains.
Miles suddenly goes pale when the words sink in. Phoenix gently places a hand on his shoulder. He wants to lay the other on his jaw but holds back.
“Whoa, hey. Miles, come back to me. Are you okay?”
“Phoenix, there’s…there’s something else…that I need to tell you. Before we continue,” Miles says through shaky breaths. He still won’t look Phoenix in the eyes.
“What is it?” Phoenix asks, his voice so gentle that not even someone with magic emotion-detecting powers could pick up on the massive pit of anxiety that sits in his throat.
Miles takes a deep, steadying breath, and then another. His hands wring together, and he looks as though he could get up and run away at any moment. “I’m tr…I’m transgender. Female to male.”
Silence.
“Okay. Thank you for telling me,” Phoenix replies, as though he were simply told that Miles wanted his tea with two sugars instead of one.
“Wait…that’s it?”
“Should…should I be saying more? I support you, of course.”
“No disgust? No confusion? No ‘I thought I knew you’?” Miles asks, bewildered and still out of breath from nerves.
“You’re still Miles, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then nothing has changed.”
Miles sits with this for a moment. He wasn’t used to his partners being so neutrally supportive. They tended to swing in one of two directions once he told them: running away or outright fetishization. Even von Karma had told him to keep that part of himself as hidden as possible. Not even Franziska knew.The upside of that was that his transition had been sped along quite rapidly to aid in his appearance of being cis. However, it left him with a lot of shame and discomfort around the fact that, no matter how many surgeries or vocal lessons he had, he would never actually be cis. Still, it felt right to tell Phoenix. If they truly were soulmates, Miles needed Phoenix to know what he was getting into. His mind loops back around to Phoenix’s words: “nothing has changed.” He wants to argue, to call Phoenix a liar, to push away the facade and uncover how Phoenix really feels about it. But when he looks into Phoenix’s eyes, all he sees there is pure sincerity and love. There’s also exhaustion, but Miles is certain he looks the same in that aspect. If he could cry, he would right now. Instead, he feels his face heat up, and crushes Phoenix into a hug to hide it.
Phoenix says nothing, simply returning the hug and allowing Miles to bury his face in Phoenix’s shoulder. Cautiously, he begins to pet the silky black feathers that cover Miles’s wings. A full body shiver passes through the crumpled man at the contact, but he doesn’t tell Phoenix to stop. When Miles does lift his head, it’s to return the gesture and admire the silvery-grey feathers covering Phoenix’s wings. They flutter under his delicate touch.
A few more hours pass. They cuddle more, Miles gets up to make himself some tea, they move to simply holding hands while he drinks it. They decide that outlining their futures is a conversation that can wait until they've both recovered from the fresh trauma of the trial now that the most pressing uncertainties have been addressed.
After the third yawn in a row that Miles sees, he decides that it’s time for them to get some much-needed sleep. Between the pain, anxiety, and uncomfortable detention center mattress, Miles has barely slept over the past three days, and Phoenix’s around the clock work to prove his partner’s innocence has left him in a similar state. The silver haired man stands from the couch and stretches, which catches Phoenix’s attention.
“I’m off to bed. I presume you are…staying the night?” Miles asks, trying to hide the hope in his voice. He’s not ready to give up the contact nor the company, not that he would ever admit such a thing out loud.
“Um, yeah. I would love to, if that’s alright.”
“Of course; I couldn’t in good conscience send you away at such a late hour. That being said, if you’re more comfortable with me remaining on the couch, I will more than understand.”
“What?? Do you really think I’m going to kick you out of your own bed after everything you’ve just been through? No way. That is, if you’re okay with sharing…” Phoenix trails off.
“I would find that agreeable, yes.” Miles smiles fondly down at Phoenix and extends a hand to help him off the couch. Phoenix takes it, and the two of them tiredly stumble into the bedroom.
They change into pajama pants and crawl under the covers, side by side. Soft, feathered wings extend out over both sides of the bed. The two men are wrapped around each other in between them, rapidly drifting into darkness.
Here, in this moment, neither of them know what lies ahead, but they’re both sure of one thing: so long as they have each other, they’ll be alright.