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“Objection!”
Edgeworth liked to shout that word as much as his opponent did. He loved seeing Wright’s smug grin evaporate under the weight of logic, loved seeing him break out in a sweat as he scrambled to find the words to counter Edgeworth’s point. And when Wright did finally find what he wanted to say, it was either the most brilliant show-stopping defense Miles had ever heard, or it was the garbled nonsense of a man who was backed into a corner.
It sounded like it was the second one today. “Well, you see, I, uh…ha, ha.” Phoenix rubbed his spikes apologetically. “I don’t have any concrete proof of that yet, Your Honor.”
Edgeworth smirked as he flipped his hair. “Color me shocked. Of course the defense doesn’t have concrete proof of such a ridiculous assertion.”
The judge furrowed his brow. “Shame on you, Phoenix Wright! Please refrain from making baseless assertions.”
Now Wright looked even more disheveled. “Y-yes, your honor,” he squeaked, throwing his tie off-kilter as he tugged on his collar. His assistant, Miss Fey, was pinching her forehead as though suffering from a migraine. Clearly they didn’t even remotely have the evidence they needed.
“Now, the defense has raised some questions that merit further consideration. As such, I am not yet able to issue a verdict.” The judge banged his gavel. “The court will now adjourn for a twenty-minute recess. When we reconvene, I will ask the prosecution to call its next witness, who I hope will be able to clarify some of these questions.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Thank you, Your Honor.” Edgeworth took a bow with extra flourish.
“Yes, Your Honor.” Wright wiped the sweat from his brow and slunk out of the courtroom with Miss Fey at his side.
Edgeworth stopped by the prosecution lobby to touch base with Detective Gumshoe and prepare the next witness for questioning. So far so good.
“I’ll be stepping out into the hallway for a moment,” Edgeworth informed Detective Gumshoe. “See to it that no one bothers me.”
“You got it, sir!” said Gumshoe, loyal as always.
The minute the door swung shut behind him, Edgeworth breathed a sigh of relief. The lights, the noises, the people—all of these easily left Edgeworth overwhelmed if he didn’t have little moments of silence punctuating them. He liked the “court-enforced quiet” part of his job, as he could barely collect his thoughts if there were too many people yammering around him.
Passing by the elevators and rounding the corner, he stopped by the water fountain to soothe his parched throat before pausing to gaze out the window at the courthouse steps below.
As he was mentally reviewing his strategy for the next court segment, first the sink and then the hand dryer went off in the men’s bathroom. It must have been someone from the defense’s team, as the public wasn’t allowed in this area.
His suspicion was confirmed when Phoenix Wright emerged from the doors, drying his face off with paper towels. He didn’t seem to notice that Edgeworth was there, muttering to himself—“Oh man, I really need to get my act together out there.”
“I’d agree,” replied Edgeworth smugly, causing Wright to jump and drop the crumpled paper towel.
“Oh, Edgeworth!” Phoenix laughed nervously as he approached. “Didn’t see you there.”
“Wright. Are you really going to go out into that courtroom looking like that?” Edgeworth smirked, giving Phoenix a once-over.
“Like what?” Wright’s face flushed red as he attempted to smooth out his suit.
He’s really flustered today, isn’t he? Well, time to make him more nervous. “Well, Mr. Wright, your suit is damp, your tie is crooked, you’ve got an undone button, your shirt is tucked unevenly into your pants, and your face is as red as a tomato.” He stepped closer to Wright, who stumbled back into one of the marble columns supporting the ceiling. “At this rate, the only way it could get worse is if your shoes were untied.”
“Well, I, uh—” Wright laughed. “Wait, they’re not actually untied, are they?” he added, checking furtively.
“No.” Edgeworth took another step forward, growing even more emboldened at Wright’s nervousness. “Here, let me help you with whatever’s going on here.”
Working nimbly, Edgeworth straightened Wright’s tie. The defense lawyer sucked in air at Miles’ touch but didn’t do anything to stop it. Edgeworth found his chest swelling with excitement at the way he could make Wright squirm.
Next came the shirt. He needed space to work, so he unbuttoned Wright’s suit jacket and started from the top. First, he thumbed each button to make sure it was properly fastened. Wright’s breathing grew heavier as Edgeworth reached the undone button, slipping his fingers under the fabric to steady it as he slipped the button through the slit. Finally, he tugged on the sides of Wright’s shirt to straighten it out evenly. He wasn’t sure why he was continuing to do this, or why Wright was continuing to let him.
He hesitated when it came to tucking Phoenix’s shirt in—that felt more invasive—but Wright’s breathing was almost egging him on. It crescendoed as Edgeworth’s fingers hooked into his belt loop to hold him steady and became a whine as he tucked the shirt hem back into Wright’s pants where it belonged.
And then it clicked—he wasn’t sure why it took so long for it to click— He’s getting turned on by this?! Up until now he’d assumed that Wright was just nervous at being cornered. But now that noise, and the hardening in Wright’s trousers, left no mystery.
Looking up to meet Wright’s gaze, he found that his face was mere inches from the defense attorney’s. Even more flustered than before, Wright was panting, his lips parted. An unfamiliar feeling welled up in Edgeworth’s stomach as he became transfixed by the sight.
“Miles,” Wright moaned softly, the word barely audible.
Hearing his name like that, his first name, in that tone, made Edgeworth’s brain short circuit. Without thinking he grabbed Wright’s chest, ruining all the work he’d just done, and pushed him back up against the pillar to kiss him ravenously.
Oh, Wright’s mouth was so warm. He tasted like the coffee and creamer they served in the lobby. As Wright grabbed the lapels of Edgeworth’s coat, he opened his mouth to let Miles explore, an opportunity that the prosecutor did not let go to waste. Wright’s tongue yielded to his, letting his opponent kiss him more and more deeply.
Edgeworth let out a guttural moan into Wright’s mouth. After all this time acting it out on chess sets, Wright was finally his.
Wait a second. What the hell am I doing?
His eyes fluttering open in alarm, Edgeworth broke the kiss and shoved Wright away, leaving them both panting to catch their breath. “I-I didn’t mean to do that!” he spluttered, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand as he felt his cheeks grow hot. “I was just trying to—intimidate you.”
“O-okay,” Wright said, laughing self-consciously. “Well, maybe you’d like to, uh, intimidate me again?”
The shy eagerness in Wright’s eyes was too much. It was like Edgeworth was under the throes of some spell, unable to stop himself from launching himself at Wright again. This time, the urge was more primal. As Wright gasped in surprise, Edgeworth kissed down the side of his neck, savoring the salty taste of his dried sweat.
Wright ran his fingers through Edgeworth’s hair. “This courtroom, that whole time, you were driving me crazy,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust.
Every cell in Edgeworth’s body was screaming for him to say: Me too, me too, God, don’t you get it, Wright? But the words wouldn’t come out, even as Edgeworth delighted in every noise that escaped Wright’s mouth, every sigh and gasp when Edgeworth’s lips contacted his opponent’s neck.
Still, surely there was no pretension now. Wright could surely feel the insistent throbbing through Edgeworth’s pants as their bodies pressed together, as close as they could get without removing any of the other’s clothes, which Edgeworth had half a mind to do right here in this—
A pleasant tone sounded over the speakers, signaling that the trial was about to resume in five minutes. Edgeworth let out a frustrated growl into the base of Wright’s neck. Now he was the one who needed to splash his face with water.
The door at the far end of the hallway creaked open, bringing with it a rush of sound from the lobby. A gruff voice sounded from around the corner: “Mr. Edgeworth? You all good, sir?”
“Gngff. Yes, Detective,” he called, attempting to mask the desperation in his voice as he and Wright exchanged panicked glances. “Be there in one minute.”
“Yes, sir! You’re doing great out there, sir!”
The door swung shut. With great effort, Edgeworth directed his attention away from the stream of filthy thoughts running through his head and toward the situation at hand.
“Wright,” Edgeworth said, straightening up to his usual rigid posture, “you still look a mess. I recommend you tidy yourself up before going back out there.”
“Mhmm.” Wright straightened his tie and smoothed his coat again, but it was like he was in a trance, the way he was smiling to himself. The idiot was going to walk into something if he didn’t snap out of it, but Edgeworth didn’t have time to manage Wright’s lovesick schoolgirl act. He excused himself to the bathroom without another word.
The cold water felt good on Miles’ burning face. With each splash he felt like he was washing Wright off him. He cupped water in his hands and swished it around too—he could still taste him, and he couldn’t have that reminder in the courtroom. Toweling himself off with paper towels, he fixed his hair and met his own steely gaze in the mirror.
He had to simply forget what had just happened, for his own sanity. Put it aside, just like he did with all the other feelings he didn’t know what to do with. This had been…an indiscretion. Some type of freak occurrence. He couldn’t let it happen again.
Practicing a gallant, impetuous smile for the mirror, he steeled his resolve and returned briskly to the courtroom.
It was time to do what Miles Edgeworth did best: put on a show.