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Miles was standing outside in the smoking area, looking into the brightly lit windows of the restaurant that currently held a celebration.
The Fey girls were sitting on either side of Wright, trying to explain something to him that needed a lot of handwaving and pointing. All three of them were laughing. Gumshoe sat across from them, smiling at their antics.
Miles took a deep drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out with a sigh. It was painfully obvious, that he didn’t really belong here anymore. Wright might have forgiven him in a way, but he had other people to look out for, or run after, as it were. The Fey girls would need him for a while longer. Miles had no right to butt into their friendship. Even the detective looked happy without the threat of another salary cut hanging over his head.
With another heavy sigh he turned around in search of the ash tray. Should he even bother to go back inside to say goodbye? They all seemed pretty happy without him, and he still had to return Franziska’s whip to her. He stumped out his cigarette with more force than necessary and turned towards the exit.
“Edgeworth!” the familiar voice made him turn. “Were you trying to run away again?” Wright sounded suspicious and slightly hurt.
Miles shrugged. “Maybe,” he admitted.
Wright shook his head exasperatedly. “You know I didn’t really mean it, when I said you should have stayed dead, right? How many times do you want me to appologise?”
“It’s not that. I... I don’t belong here anymore. You have the Fey girls and Gumshoe and Larry. I would only cause you further pain.” He had his gaze glued firmly the tips of his shoes, not daring to look Wright in the eyes.
“Yeah, you would cause me pain,” the man said. “By leaving again!”
When Miles said nothing he continued. “Look, Edgeworth, I know you have to return to your studies overseas. I get that. But... we can still stay in contact, can’t we? You don’t have to just vanish. At least, I dunno, give me your phone number and let me walk you to your car or something.”
Miles briefly glanced up at Wright, then turned towards the exit again. “Alright then, if you must,” he said over his shoulder.
It took two or three steps until Wright understood what he’d meant and hurried to his side. They walked in silence for a while, before the man could no longer stand it.
“So, where are you parked?” he asked.
“Around the corner, near the park entrance,” Miles didn’t feel like small talk. He didn’t feel like company either, but Wright was, well, right. He owed him at least this much.
At the entrance to the park Wright suddenly stopped. “Hey, do you remember? We used to come here often as kids. Do you think the playground is still there?”
Miles shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“They closed the school a few years back.”
That got his attention. “Why?”
“Something about asbestos in the ceilings. It was no longer deemed safe, but there were endless discussions over who had to pay for the renovations. It’s been closed ever since. My mum always rants about it when I visit her.”
“Is she still living in the same house?”
“Yeah. She considered moving when dad left, but in the end decided to stay.” Wright hesitated for a moment, then continued. “You should come and see her next time you are in the country. She keeps asking after you.”
“So you didn’t tell her that I was... you know.”
Wright shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Maya. I couldn’t face the fact that you were gone forever.” He kicked a stone against the gate post, pointedly not looking at Miles.
“I’m sorry for causing you so much grief. I truly am.” Miles stared at the dark trees in the park.
“Well, you know how you can make up for it,” Wright said with a hint of a smile.
Without meaning to, the corners of Miles’ mouth turned upwards. “Yes, I do.”
Suddenly Wright broke into a full blown grin. “Come on, let’s go and see if the playground is still there. I want a turn on the swing!” With that he almost ran through the gates into the park.
For a moment Miles contemplated just heading towards his car and be done with it. He could always call Wright’s office in the morning to give him his phone number, but something kept him from doing so. He couldn’t say whether it was curiosity or nostalgia or something else entirely. In the end he gave in and followed Wright.
As it turned out, the playground was still there. When Miles got there, he found his friend - his rival? what even were they to each other? - on the swing, swinging to and fro staring at something on the ground.
He didn’t look up when Miles approached.
After debating with himself for a few seconds, Miles sat down on the other swing. Contrary to Wright, he sat still though.
When Wright finally came to a stop, he looked over at him and quietly asked, “Do you remember that one weekend, where we stayed over at yours and built that fort in the garden?”
Miles was glad for the darkness, this way Wright couldn’t see the blush creeping over his cheeks. “How could I ever forget?” he mumbled, hoping that Wright would drop the subject. Of course he wouldn’t be Phoenix Wright if he did. That man never dropped a promising lead.
“We never talked about that night.”
The statement made Miles scoff. “What was there to talk about? We were nine years old.”
Wright held up his hands placatingly. “I know, I know. But...” he leant down and plucked one of the few early daisies he had been looking at earlier. “I thought about it a lot. Back then and for a long time after you vanished. It made me realise that I... swing both ways as it were.”
“Swing...?” Miles was confused, what was Wright trying to say?
“I’m bi, Edgeworth!” came the slightly irritated response.
Miles stared at him. Why was this simple statement making him feel so, so... warm? “I did think about that night too,” he admitted after a while.
Phoenix was twirlling the daisy around between his thumb and forefinger and then, slowly, carefully started to tug off one petal after the other. When he reached the last one, a warm smile lit his face.
“He loves me,” he said quietly, looking straight at Miles.
“Who were you thinking of?” Miles whispered, not daring to hope.
Phoenix dropped the empty stalk. “Still you,” he said in a hushed whisper.
The silence between them was so dense, it could be cut with a knife. Neither man moved for what felt like ages. Then Miles swallowed hard, got up from his swing and asked softly, “Do you want to kiss me?”
Phoenix kept his eyes on him while he slowly got off his swing as well. “Would you be okay with that?” he said in a raspy voice.
Miles stepped closer. “Yeah... very much so.” He took another step, meeting Phoenix in the middle. For a moment they just looked at each other, then they both leant in.
Some things really got better with time. Not that he had disliked their chaste kiss at that sleepover. It had been a sweet, childish thing that he had cherished. But this... this was grown up, the real thing. Phoenix’s lips were soft and pliant and when a small sound of enjoyment escaped them, a shiver ran down Miles spine. His hands came up and he found himself clinging to Phoenix like his life depended on it... and maybe that wasn’t too far from the truth.
He broke the kiss, but didn’t move very far, leaning his forehead against Phoenix’s.
“Wow...” he said with a dreamy smile.
“Wow indeed,” Miles agreed, leaning further into their embrace.
He flinched when Phoenix straighened up. “I’m sorry Miles, but I can’t do this without... I, I have to know - what is this to you. What am I to you?”
Miles took a deep breath. Well, he couldn’t blame Phoenix for wanting a clear answer. Not after everything that had happened since that case against Ms. Skye.
He took Phoenix’s hands in his and tried his best to look him in the eye. “I’d like this to be the beginning of a relationship,” he said quietly but firmly. “You are the man I love, have loved for a very long time, really. I know this is all very sudden and we still have a lot of talking to do, but I am yours, if you’ll have me.”
While he was talking, Phoenix’s eyes had become bigger and bigger and he stared at him in amazement. “Is that even a question?” He almost shouted. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years! Of course I want you, Miles.”
Before he could do anything else, Phoenix had pulled his hands away and thrown his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Please, let us do this. I love you so damn much and I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am to have you here...” His voice cracked and tears soon followed.
Miles held him tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry it took me so long to find my way back to you.”
They stayed like this until Phoenix’s tears subsided and he peeled himself away from Miles. “Sorry for ruining your suit,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“It was due for the dry cleaners anyway. Don’t worry about it.” Miles reassured him.
“Do you... maybe, want to come to my place?” Phoenix asked. Then, realising how this might sound, he hastily added “To talk!” scratching the back of his neck and grinning.
Miles found this unbelievably endearing. “I’d like to talk more. How about I’ll drive us over to yours?”
“Yes please.”
They both turned and walked towards the park entrance. About half way Phoenix’s hand brushed against his questioningly. Miles took it and laced their fingers together, feeling like he never wanted to let go.