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This was ridiculous. They'd been dating for at least a year now (okay, so maybe they weren't calling it dating, but he considered it dating even if his partner didn't) and they had gotten no closer to acting like a normal couple.
If they were a couple. Dammit, this is stupid.
There was a movie playing in front of the both of them, but Phoenix wasn't paying it much mind. He'd already noticed Edgeworth shifting uncomfortably in the chill of the evening, and Phoenix himself had been trying to deny he was cold for almost an hour now. He knew where everything was kept in the prosecutor's house; he was going to fix this.
As he stood up, Edgeworth's gaze flickered over to him. “Where are you going?”
“I'll be right back.” Phoenix turned before his partner could argue and walked out of the room, heading down the hallway toward one of the numerous closets in the absurdly large house. Opening a door, he fished out a large quilt and tugged it off the shelf, letting it fall over his head as he shut the door again. Heading back to the living room, he could hear Edgeworth chuckle.
“Phoenix, what are you doing?” Phoenix. The one clear sign anything had changed; he wasn't calling him Wright anymore. Then again, Phoenix only remembered to call him Miles half of the time... Old habits and all.
“It's freezing and we're both cold, and it doesn't make any sense to just sit here and be cold when you have a hundred blankets in your house.” Phoenix fell back onto the couch, covered himself with half the blanket, and held up the other side. “Come on. It won't kill you to move a foot away from the edge of the couch.”
He saw Miles hesitate, and Phoenix sighed to himself. It hadn't been until he'd started spending this much time around Miles Edgeworth that Phoenix realized how much more comfortable he was with physical contact—casual or otherwise—than the prosecutor was. Phoenix didn't go out of his way to touch people, but he and Apollo often greeted each other with a hand to the shoulder; Athena had given him a few enthusiastic—and then embarrassed—hugs; he and Trucy were completely comfortable curled up together on a couch to watch TV. Miles didn't have any of that. He'd place himself on one end of the couch and become pronouncedly stiff if Phoenix sat “too close” to him. It had spurred an argument early on where Phoenix had accused Miles of avoiding him; the prosecutor denied it, but hadn't changed his actions.
Something needed to change. He wasn't expecting a complete 180; he was just hoping for a degree or two of a turn.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Edgeworth gave in and moved over, taking the edge of the blanket and tucking it at his side. The two weren't quite touching but it was certainly closer, and that was good enough for Phoenix. He shifted back into a comfortable position, and set his hand down onto the couch—brushing Miles' fingers in the process.
His breath hitched. It was ridiculous, but he had no idea how Miles was going to take that. Why is this so complicated...you're lucky I like you as much as I do, Edgeworth.
Much to his surprise, the prosecutor didn't move his hand, letting his knuckles stay brushed against Phoenix's. Now the attorney was almost nervous to move his hand and break the spell.
It was just so hard to convince himself that they were actually anything more than they'd ever been before. Sure, they spent more time together and it was one-on-one more than it had ever been before, but all the trappings of a relationship weren't there. They never held hands, didn't kiss, hadn't even said anything to properly express attraction to each other. The closest they had ever come was at the Gala last year, when they'd danced together. Phoenix wasn't sure they'd ever been that close to each other since.
And for several minutes, nothing happened. Edgeworth's attention never strayed from the movie, and their hands stayed just barely touching. Phoenix had given up hoping for anything further when he heard Edgeworth exhale softly, then shift his hand—
—only to lace his fingers through Phoenix's.
Phoenix held his breath, his chest tight, and when nothing changed after a beat, he glanced over at Miles. Even in the dim light, Phoenix could see the tinge of red across his partner's cheeks. “It takes a while to turn the Titanic,” the prosecutor murmured, just audible underneath the sounds of the movie.
“Miles?” Phoenix wasn't following.
“I...know that I have not exactly been open with you. With us.” He moved their hands slightly. “I thought I had convinced myself to change at the Gala, but perhaps...” He sighed, shaking his head. “It is too easy to fall into old routines.”
Phoenix was still stuck a few sentences back. With us. He...did he...? “I didn't think...” Phoenix paused, then bit the bullet. “I wasn't sure you thought there was an us.”
The prosecutor winced, a gesture only seen in his eyes. “Yes, I can imagine you might. To be honest, I am not positive I did for a time. It...” Miles lost his hold on the sentence, shaking his head again. “You have known me for a very long time. Long enough to know the change between the child I was and the man I am. Long enough to know why...why it is so difficult for me to connect with others.”
That much was true. Miles hadn't been the most forthcoming child, but after a decade-plus living with the von Karma family, it would make anyone frosty. “Yeah.”
“And I assure you, though it does not seem it, I have been attempting to make changes in myself, to better...mm, I'm not sure how to phrase it.” Edgeworth nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I am attempting to be more open. To identify what in my behavior is lacking, and make up for it. However, I fear I have not accomplished much.”
It takes a while to turn the Titanic. Now the phrase made sense to Phoenix. This was a massive change for Miles, and it wasn't one that could be made quickly. “I know, Miles.” He gave the other man's fingers a light squeeze to reassure him. “I...I don't blame you. And I don't want to push you.”
Phoenix went to say more, but Miles cut him off. “I'm afraid you may have to push me, Phoenix.” Grey eyes met brown, and Phoenix held his breath again. “If nothing else, this past year has taught me that I don't know where I need to push myself. I don't know how to make this work. I don't...” Miles broke eye contact as his voice faded, and when he spoke again, Phoenix could barely hear him. “I don't know how to be what you deserve.”
Phoenix's chest ached. “Miles, you already are what I deserve. Or if nothing else, you're what I want. I can be a dunce, but I'm not stupid. I walked into this with my eyes open; I knew who you were and where you'd been. I knew this wasn't going to be a walk in the park, I just...” Now it was his turn to sigh. “All I've wanted was some sign that this is what you'd wanted.”
“It is.” The response was immediate. “It is new and uncomfortable, but it will never become otherwise if I do not try. It is only uncomfortable because it is unusual. I don't want to stay in this middle ground.”
Phoenix watched his partner, letting the silence sit until those grey eyes came back up to look at him. “You're sure.”
Miles raised an eyebrow, exactly the reaction Phoenix had been expecting. “I would not be here if I wasn't.”
“Do you trust me?”
Now the prosecutor was cautious. “I...yes.”
“Close your eyes.”
After a breath's hesitation, Miles closed his eyes, his face still turned toward Phoenix. Now it was Phoenix's turn to hesitate. I'm afraid you may have to push me, Phoenix. Well, this was definitely going to be a push, but it was one Phoenix had been holding back on doing for almost a year now. He reached out with his free hand to tilt Miles' chin up, then before he could convince himself not to, he leaned over and pressed his lips to his partner's.
Phoenix could feel Miles go still, but the prosecutor didn't pull away, his lips supple if still. After too short of a moment, Phoenix pulled a fraction back, letting a breath pass between the two. Miles still hadn't moved. Maybe it was too soon. The attorney didn't dare open his eyes.
But just when he'd started to lean back away from Miles, Phoenix felt a hand rest on the back of his neck, tugging him back into a kiss. Now the prosecutor was expecting him, a hunger in the gesture Phoenix hadn't expected at all. Miles' fingers curled on the back of Phoenix's neck, barely threaded through the hair at the base of his skull; their twined hands beneath the blanket clutched tight. Phoenix let his hand come back to rest on Miles' jaw, and with his heart in his throat, traced Miles' lower lip with the tip of his tongue.
The pause Phoenix had expected never came. Miles opened his lips willingly, letting Phoenix explore his partner's mouth—and slowly, returning the favor. The attorney felt like he'd been lit on fire; every inch of his body was warm and tingling, his heart racing. He almost missed the feeling of Miles pulling his hand away from Phoenix's, but caught it just before the prosecutor pushed his fingers under the hem of Phoenix's shirt and slid along his waist.
The sound Phoenix made against his partner's lips was quite possibly not human. He moved to mimic Miles' action, but the angle proved awkward. He turned so one leg was tucked up on the couch between them and then reached over again—but Edgeworth had taken the action differently, and tugged the attorney over by a belt loop.
The blanket slid to the floor as Miles pulled Phoenix onto his lap, now sliding both hands up Phoenix's shirt. Between that sensation and the fact that he could feel quite clearly that he was not the only one with a certain tightness in his pants, Phoenix couldn't help but whimper into Miles' lips. The prosecutor answered with a matching soft moan as Phoenix laced his fingers through Miles' hair, and the sound shot straight into the attorney's groin.
Phoenix pulled his head back, letting his teeth catch Miles' lower lip as he moved, and before his partner could protest, he leaned back and pressed a kiss under his ear, at the curve of his jaw, tracing down Miles' neck with kisses and reveling in the soft pants of air coming from the man's lips. He let his teeth rake against the skin just above his partner's collarbone, not hard enough to leave a mark but firm enough to get a gasp that almost sounded like his name. Miles' nails were digging into Phoenix's back and he could not care less, wishing only that he could somehow be closer to Miles than he already was.
“Phoenix...” This time it was clearly his name, a breath of a prayer, voice hitching at the end as Phoenix slid his hands down his partner's chest and let them rest on his waist. Phoenix traced kisses back up to Miles' lips, where he was met eagerly by lips and tongue and teeth, and a shiver skated over his skin.
Phoenix had no idea how long they stayed like that, wrapped around each other, lost in years of pent-up emotion, but by the time they parted again the television had turned itself off. Both of them were panting, trying to catch stolen breath, foreheads resting against each other. His hands had traced back up into Miles' hair; Miles was resting his hands on Phoenix's hips.
After a few moments' silence, Phoenix attempted speech. “I pushed.”
Miles breathed out a chuckle. “That you did.” He brushed the slightest of kisses against Phoenix's lips. “And I am grateful for it.”
“I can tell.” Miles let out an irritated rumble at Phoenix's remark, but his lips were curved into a smile. Phoenix laughed. “Hey, I'm in no position to talk.”
“Mmm, true.” Miles traced a hand up Phoenix's side and back to his hip, and Phoenix shivered at the touch. “Thank you.”
“I love you, Miles.” Those were not the words he'd intended to say, but by the time he'd realized what he'd said, it was too late. Brown eyes opened to see grey already looking back, and Phoenix pulled his head back so he could look at his partner more clearly.
The expression on Miles' face was inscrutable. “I...in truth?”
“You can doubt it?” Phoenix cupped Miles' cheek with a hand. “For years, Miles. From the moment I saw you again, when you came home from Germany. I wasn't sure then, but...when I thought you'd...” Even now, he couldn't say the words. “I couldn't think your name, let alone speak it. It felt like I'd been ripped apart. I knew then, and I thought I was too late.”
“I'm sorry,” Miles murmured, hand tracing Phoenix's side again. “I'd say I might have acted differently had I known, but I believe both of us know that to be false.”
“We were different people then.” He rested his forehead against Miles' again. “We were young. You were broken, I was stupid and lucky. I don't care how long I had to wait, I wouldn't trade an instant if it meant we didn't end up here.”
There was a beat before Miles spoke, and Phoenix could hear the smile in his partner's voice. “Very eloquent, Phoenix.”
Phoenix smiled as well. “It happens every once in a while.”
A beat of silence passed before Miles spoke again, his voice not more than a whisper. “Will you say it again?”
Phoenix didn't need to ask what he meant. “As many times as you want. I love you, Miles Edgeworth, and I always will.”
He could feel Miles shiver beneath his hands. “Again?” he whispered.
Phoenix leaned in, resting his lips against Miles' ear. “I love you,” he murmured back.
Miles' arms wrapped tight around Phoenix's waist, pulling him into a close hug as he buried his face in Phoenix's shoulder. Phoenix let his head rest in the crook of Miles' neck, his hands resting on his partner's shoulders.
“You know I do as well?” came the mumbled response a moment later. “Even if the words won't come to me?”
Phoenix pressed a kiss to Miles' shoulder. “The words aren't going anywhere. I can be patient.”
A pause, then, “But you know?”
“I know, Miles.”
“And you believe me?” There was a waver in Miles' voice that didn't sound at all natural to Phoenix.
He tried to pull back and look at Miles, but the other man held him tight, so he rested back on his shoulder. “Of course I believe you. Why wouldn't I?”
Another pause. “After this many years, I'm not sure I'd trust me.”
“Then it's good I'm not you.” He pulled back harder this time, forcing Miles to let him sit up. At first, he kept his head firmly down, but Phoenix hooked a finger under his chin and made Miles look up at him. The uncertainty in the prosecutor's eyes made Phoenix's chest tighten. “Miles. Would I lie to you?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Do you have any reason to lie to me?”
Pain reflected back to Phoenix in Miles' eyes. “No. Never again.”
“Then I believe you.” Phoenix leaned in and nudged Miles' glasses down so that he could press a kiss to the bridge of his partner's nose. “And I would trust you with my life, same like I trust you with my heart.”
Miles' cheeks burned. “Those words come so much more easily to you.”
Phoenix smiled. “I've said them in my mind a thousand times more than you.” He brushed Miles' hair back from his face, straightening the other man's glasses. “They'll come or they won't, and I won't mind either way.”
Miles managed a faint smile, reaching up to take Phoenix's hand in his. “You are far too good to me.”
“I'm only as good as you deserve.” He rested his forehead against Miles' again and took a deep breath. “I think we've missed the rest of the movie.”
“I'm not entirely sure I mind.” Phoenix chuckled as Miles sighed as well. “Phoenix.” The attorney leaned back, catching his partner's eye again as Miles spoke. “Will...will you stay, tonight?”
He couldn't help the smile. “Of course.”
And as they made their way upstairs, shed into more comfortable clothing, and lost themselves in each other's arms, one thing was clear.
It didn't matter how long it took to get here. Every moment had been worth it.