Work Text:
No good ideas ever follow after Maya uses the phrase, “Hey, Nick, you know what would be fun?”
Sighing and bidding his plans for a quiet afternoon goodbye, Phoenix invites her to continue: “Tell me.”
"Let's go see Edgeworth!" The answer is shrieked with a flourish, Maya bouncing with excitement. "The pilot for the Steel Samurai reboot was just released. I need to talk to him!"
Phoenix spends a second just staring at her. The most natural answer would be So go talk to him. Why do you need me for that? But then, seeing Edgeworth again would be good; they haven't seen each other since the celebratory dinner after Misty Fey's murder trial and that had been an awkward and exhausting evening for Phoenix. He'd barely swapped a few sentences with Miles. (And before that, while he'd slept at the hospital, he'd had a dream where he and Miles kissed. But he was, and is still, trying not to think about that. It had added to the awkwardness at the dinner.) So instead he says, "You know what? Let's."
Maya yells with a triumphant grin and pumps a fist into the air.
One glance at Phoenix's nearly empty wallet later, they decide to walk to the Prosecutors' Office.
Hopefully Maya won't get them kicked out of Edgeworth's office by blabbing about one of her weird ideas of a romantic pair. The Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate in love? Phoenix has barely watched three whole episodes of the show but even he knows that the notion is beyond ridiculous. If Miles heard, he'd probably treat them to a five hour lecture and then literally kick them out without a care for the waxing on his derbies.
-
"I didn't expect you. Hi," Miles welcomes them in his office with an outstretched hand and something that might pass for a small smile.
"Henlo! We're here on a social visit," Maya tells him, grinning ear to ear, while Phoenix drawls a simple, "Hey, Miles," and closes the door behind them.
Miles stares. "Social...With me?"
"Yes! You and me, frilly man! Us and our friend the Steel Samurai!" Maya advances with a twirl. "Steely Sammy reboot pilot—was it good or was it amazing? What do you think?"
For a moment Miles just blinks at her before stepping back to his desk; "I haven't had a chance to see it yet." A sigh and Miles' downcast eyes make Phoenix's heart beat a little faster.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Work has been..." Another sigh. "A lot's happened in the last few days."
"So much you couldn't watch the pilot?"
"There was a murder and then a few attempts on my life and a smuggling ring to take down. You know, the usual," Miles says with complete flat boredom as if that really is the usual.
"Is it really?" Maya asks before Phoenix can gather the courage.
"Yes, actually. Perfectly ordinary few days."
Maybe in Prosecutor Land. Or in an action hero's blockbuster movie life. Phoenix's life is simple and safe and apparently beyond boring if Miles almost being killed is the entry point to boring. Speaking of:
"Someone tried to hurt you?" Phoenix worries at him openly.
"I'm fine, clearly. I wouldn't have been standing here if I was dead." Miles' tone is harsh, annoyed, but he barely covers a cringe as he finishes the sentence. They're getting too close to a sore topic.
Luckily, Maya is there to break the wall they just built. "Miles, that's so scary! Do you want to take your mind off it by watching the pilot with us?"
After some brief consideration, Miles agrees. "Tomorrow evening, my place. I'll pick you both up."
Shortly after he ushers Phoenix and Maya out of his office with a complaint that he has work to do.
-
Miles lives on the tenth floor of an apartment building and won't use the elevator. Maya groans, Phoenix sighs, and Miles pretends he doesn't hear them, starting on the journey up the many, many flights of stairs. Phoenix follows, thoughtlessly staring at the view of Miles' thighs and ass flexing in front of him. A good view, he concludes somewhere between floors three and four.
On floor seven Maya complains she's tired. By the time they reach Miles' apartment, both Phoenix and Maya are panting. Miles gives them an unimpressed look and only invites them inside when he's certain they've both seen it.
They settle on the couch with a bag of Doritos and Miles plays the episode directly from the Globify streaming service. He glares at the Doritos but takes some when Maya offers and eats them with complaint.
The episode, to Phoenix's uninitiated mind, is only mildly interesting. It appears this production had a higher budget, and they've cast different actors—someone whose face actually looks as if he's in his twenties, and is also almost as beefy as Will Powers, and then someone tall and lean with a stern face plays the Evil Magistrate, his voice is deliciously deep.
Phoenix sighs—the story is as bland as ever. The opening scene shows the Magistrate stealing documents from a general's office—with a backdrop of truly gorgeous dramatic music—and then the Steel Samurai is called in to retrieve them. It's explained to him that it's a list of spies and it must be recovered at all costs. The stakes are high! Phoenix yawns.
Maya giggles and kicks her feet when the Samurai and the Magistrate meet for the first time and immediately exchange blows.
A long action sequence later, the Magistrate is laughing because he's already handed the documents off to his henchmen and the Samurai looks as if he'll cry. The Magistrate gloats and Phoenix gets distracted by the actor's Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, but then the Magistrate runs offscreen and the scene changes to the Samurai sulking at home with a cup of sake.
Somewhere in the back of Phoenix's mind is the thought that the Samurai and the Magistrate might actually make a good pair. Maybe. If they got over their differences and weren't set up as enemies always.
Phoenix turns to look at Maya and finds her engrossed, her hand digging into the Doritos bag and shoving chips into her grinning mouth.
He turns to Miles—a similar picture. Phoenix watches as Miles stares at the screen, completely engaged. He looks relaxed, comfortably draped on the sofa, his profile lit by the TV cutting a stark contrast against the darkening sky over the LA skyline. A real smile is gracing his face and Phoenix couldn't focus on the show even if he wanted to. Then, Miles is laughing, a wheezing sound that somehow leaves Phoenix winded.
He turns to look at the TV—the Samurai and the Magistrate are crumpled together in a heap of embroidered fabric, struggling to get free. He watches them wrestle for a while but loses focus when Miles chuckles next to him again. Oh, well, Miles is more interesting to look at anyway.
At one point—surely the end of the episode must be nearing by now—Phoenix notices that Maya is weirdly quiet and glances at her. She's slumped against the armrest and seems to be asleep; a prod to her cheek proves it when she doesn't react.
When the episode ends, Miles sits to watch and read the credits, but then gets up and speedwalks to the kitchen. Phoenix follows, careful not to jostle Maya.
-
In the kitchen Miles goes straight for a cupboard and pulls out an apparently already open bottle of wine. "Do you want any?" he asks without facing Phoenix, just showing him the bottle.
It's a red, but Phoenix can't read what kind from the heavily stylized cursive letters on the label; not that it would tell him much anyway. "Sure," he says with a shrug and Miles pours him a glass. He places it on the counter for Phoenix to pick up. No chance for their fingers to touch like in a romantic movie. Miles pours his own glass and re-corks the bottle.
"What did you think?" Miles asks, tone light and almost happy.
Uh...if only Phoenix had focused on more than ten minutes of the episode. "It was good...You know, I think I like these actors better."
"Heresy. I'll allow that these boys did a passable job but no one can do better than Will Powers and Jack Hammer." A sip of wine and Miles fixes Phoenix in his gaze. "What's so good about these two?"
The answer is obvious and a blush creeps up on Phoenix's neck just at the thought. "I just think they're more attractive, you know?"
"Attractive...?" Miles raises an eyebrow.
"They look their ages?"
"I suppose they do. But I don't know what's so good about a frowny chiseled face. This boy, Weerin Crowns, he doesn't have the presence to play the Magistrate."
"I thought he did a good job," Phoenix tries to defend himself half-heartedly. The truth is...two things: one, the boy is pretty and reminds him of someone, and two, this isn't the conversation Phoenix wants to be having.
Miles sighs. "Can't fix bad taste."
"How dare. My taste is perfect."
"Sure."
Silence lulls around them. Watching Miles leaning on the counter and sipping his wine, Phoenix shortly gathers the courage to ask, "Miles, are you really okay?"
Nothing changes on Miles' face when he replies: "Perfect. Why?" He's not even looking at Phoenix.
"Well, you said in the past few da—"
"If it's about the...attempts—" Miles interrupts him just to pause. He visibly swallows, "Don't start. You're not better."
Phoenix recoils. Miles isn't wrong, except... "I usually get into shit myself. Someone actually tried to hurt you."
"Yeah and what about the time you got a fire extinguisher to the head?" The words come out heated. "That doesn't sound like it was your fault. You were just doing your job. Same as me."
Miles hadn't been supposed to know about that. Maya must've told him, Phoenix figures, glancing in her general direction. He looks back at Miles just to catch him glaring. "I'm fine now," he says with a sigh.
"Me too." It almost sounds like a warning.
"Sorry if I'm worried about you," Phoenix says, feeling petty.
Miles is different now, he's calmer and somehow more confident than he'd been when they'd first reconnected. Different than even when he came back from the dead just to smite Matt Engarde. But parts of him are still the same—he'll happily watch his favorite show and defend it; he'll help his friends without a question. It throws Phoenix off and he doesn't know what to expect from him.
...Not that he ever did.
"You scared me," he tells Miles without looking at him. "You already...you know, died once. I don't want to get another call from Gumshoe saying you're gone." Finally, Phoenix raises his gaze to Miles.
Miles' eyes are wide and glued to him. He takes a while to reply. "I'm sorry," he says, licking his lips. "I didn't think that...didn't consider how you might react to my...activities. Not now and not then."
"No, you—" suddenly all the air in Phoenix's lungs escapes, "—you don't have to apologize. I get it. Or, now I do. It wasn't about me."
"No. It was all me and my misery."
Phoenix watches the way Miles clutches his wine glass. "I'm glad you're better now. Really."
"...But?"
"Please try to keep being okay."
"Alright."
What? "Just like that?"
"Yes. I'm going to therapy, I'm practicing self-care, I'm trying to be well. Strange as it might sound."
The words are like sweet honey dripping directly into Phoenix's soul. He doesn't have words for the relief he's feeling. "Good, okay." He sags against the counter himself and downs his glass in one go.
"There's just one thing I'm lacking," Miles says after a beat.
"What's that?"
"Understanding." Miles looks away. "Why did you kiss me?" His cheeks are red and he's holding the wine glass to his lips.
"What?" They've never kissed as far as Phoenix is aware.
"In the hospital, when I came to see you, you...You grabbed my coat and pulled me to you, then you said a lot of things that, at the time, sounded like manic fantasies," Miles clarifies, except that doesn't mean anything to Phoenix. He'd dreamt that kiss.
...Right?
"I— I actually did that?" Phoenix asks, dreading the answer.
Miles nods.
"Fuck."
"Hm?"
"I thought I dreamt that." Phoenix almost slams his wine glass into his head in an attempt to hide his face.
"You didn't mean to do it? Because, yes, I thought it was strange. You had those feelings for Iris but then you were macking on me." Miles tells him with a tone that's so artificially calm that Phoenix is afraid to look at him. It's possible that maybe Miles had been avoiding him after the trial and during that dinner because of this.
Wait, macking? And Iris? "I think you misread my feelings for Iris."
"I don't think I did. You clearly loved her."
Put that way, yes. "I did. Before. Years ago now."
"So," Miles takes a quick glance at him and looks away again. "Why kiss me?"
Like never, Phoenix chooses to think for a second before speaking. He needs to choose the right words to express his feelings. "I suppose, because I was blitzed out of my mind enough to just do what I wanted. I was relieved to see you and I—"
"You wanted to kiss me?"
"I did."
"And you never brought it up because you thought you dreamt it?"
"Yeah, I mean, with that fever. I was convinced I'd hallucinated it." Phoenix sets his glass down and walks up to Miles. "I still want to kiss you."
Miles sighs. "Damn. There's something new to talk to my therapist about," he says, putting his own glass on the counter next to him and dragging Phoenix into a kiss with a warm hand on his neck. It tastes just as bitter as the wine, but somewhere in there, like the wine, there's a covert sweetness. ...It also turns out that Miles likes to bite a little but that's maybe not so surprising considering.
"Maybe we can have a go at this?" Phoenix whispers against Miles' lips when they part.
"We could," Miles agrees, something between a smile and a smirk playing on his features.
One second of ease and happiness passes before Maya's voice joins them, sounding from the doorway: "You definitely could. But there's also a second episode out and we need to watch it! Pronto!"