Work Text:
Loving a lawyer came with certain drawbacks. Certain very obvious drawbacks. Arguments had a tendency to devolve into courtroom stand-offs, for one. Nick was guilty of this, too, by virtue of also being a lawyer. He was pretty sure it didn’t help that Edgeworth was a prosecutor, though. It was practically their job to argue! It was an inescapable fact!
Another drawback was that being a lawyer was busy. Nick was…slightly more at fault for this, since he didn’t have an entire Prosecutor’s office to order around. He did a lot of the busywork himself, since the others were usually out on their own cases. They didn’t take very kindly to slogging through papers or files. For the more dramatic cases, he often didn’t make it back home until the case was over. Edgeworth was at fault here as well, of course. They had a mutual understanding about it, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating to wake up in an empty bed.
So Nick wasn’t exactly upset when he woke up in the middle of the night to the cold. What was upsetting was that he could hear rustling past the open bedroom door. It wasn’t one of their friends, unless one of their rotating cast of trespassers wanted to do nothing but walk around their living room instead of scaring the living daylights out of him. That meant that Edgeworth was home and not in bed beside him. Which made no sense because it was… 2:23 and Nick totally forgot to turn off the air conditioning before going to bed, which meant that it was positively freezing.
Nick was forced to drag himself out of his nice, warm, blanket-covered bed and drag his feet into the living room. He did it all miserably, hating every minute because they had hardwood floors in the hallway for some reason and he wasn’t spending time looking for his slippers. Not only that, but he didn’t go to bed with a shirt on, so it was extra chilly. Miles was truly going to get it when Nick found him.
The fire extinguished as soon as he stepped into the carpeted living room. Miles was sitting on the couch, all dolled up in his pajamas. Which meant he had peeked into their bedroom, saw Nick hugging a pillow by his lonesome, grabbed clothes, and then walked right back out. His suit was neatly folded on their armchair, his briefcase resting on top. His hair was a mess and his glasses had fallen to the tip of his nose. He looked harried, but weirdly content.
“Miles, have you heard the saying not to take work home with you, especially when your partner also shares your home?” Nick murmured, shaking hair out of his face. He approached the couch, resting his arms limply across Miles’ shoulders.
“I have,” Miles replied absentmindedly, flipping through another packet without looking up. Despite his distraction, he tilted his head ever so slightly to brush his lips against Nick’s wrist before resuming his browsing. Honestly, it didn’t even look like he noticed he’d done it. Or maybe they were both too tired to care about propriety.
“Okay, then why have you covered our living room with a billion sheets of paper?”
He could feel Miles’ eye roll even though all he could see was the back of his head. “I thought this would be obvious, Nick. I have a case.”
“Which is?”
“The defendant, Pal Letti, has been accused of killing his previous art professor after his gallery showing failed. It’s imperative I search through the college records to ensure the timelines match up and he was teaching at the time Letti was a student,” Edgeworth recited, as if he had read through the case synopsis repeatedly on the way back form the office. He probably had, the workaholic.
Upon second…third…fourth glance, Ivy University was printed neatly at the top of each document. Or, at least the ten he could see. Who knew about the fifty others scattered around? There were probably a thousand others Edgeworth had already gone through and shoved into his briefcase to organize later. This case must’ve wormed its way into his brain ages ago, if he was not only up researching it but taking home a literal file cabinet of papers. Nick knew what that was like. He also knew it meant the bed was going to stay cold until that perfectionist streak was satisfied. It felt a bit embarrassing, but it’d be a shame to go to bed alone when Miles was literally in the other room.
Nick padded his way around the couch, scooping up the paper on one of the cushions to clear space. “Budge over.”
Miles’ glasses nearly slipped off his nose with how fast he snapped his head up. Nick held back his instinctual snicker. “Wright, you aren’t on this case—”
“Yeah, but I went to this school. It’ll be a lot faster if I look than if you comb through years of records,” he pointed out. Sure, it had been a few long years, and he had been…distracted…for eight months, but he could recall some things from Ivy University pretty well.
Miles considered him, eyes catching on the slight downturn of his mouth. Maybe Nick looked especially pathetic, or maybe it was obvious how much he didn’t like thinking about his university days, but the sap gave in. He hemmed and hawed—well, he deliberated silently while Nick resolutely pretended not to notice—before sighing. “...If you insist. The professor’s name is Esh, Vharn. He taught painting classes along with general education courses, rather than sculpting or pottery.”
“Ceramics.”
“Yes. That’s what I said.”
“Uh huh,” Nick hummed teasingly, eyes catching on the date he was searching for almost instantly. It took a bit of shuffling to gather the four years he was looking for, before putting aside the irrelevant ones. He didn’t remember a Pal Letti, but that wasn’t too surprising. Nick was hopelessly besotted with a lot of other people at the time and other students didn’t really stick. “Anyways, I found the files you need. Or, at least, the year the professor left Ivy University.”
“...What?”
“Mmhm. Dr. Vharn made me cry—not that that was hard back then—so I remember him well. He taught the intro to painting class when I was around, but he switched schools three years in. Never got to be in any of his other classes, thankfully. I switched tracks before that could happen.”
A pause. Nick was too busy looking through the ‘L’ last names to notice. There were a lot of ‘Lee’s to sort through. “You switched tracks? I had thought you were always going for a law degree,” he heard Miles ask, the words hesitant.
“Nah. I was an art major for most of my college life. Three whole years, actually. Was probably going to graduate an art student, too.” Clearly, that hadn’t worked out.
“What made you switch?”
That was a bit more of a mood-killer. He lowered the packet to find Edgeworth staring at him, almost like he was a suspect. The man had stopped shuffling through his own papers. “Um. Dahlia happened. Then Mia kind of came around, and then a few months after that I saw you in the newspaper. So I switched.”
“...You saw me in the newspaper?”
“Yeah. You were known as the demon prosecutor and there were all of these horrible things they were saying you did. I didn’t believe it. All of my other attempts to reach you and clear things up never worked, though, so I figured I’d just meet you in court instead,” Nick replied carefully, wondering why Miles sounded so choked up.
“You just figured. Because of the newspapers.”
“Well, yeah. The Miles I knew would’ve never done the stuff they were saying you did. And I was right, a little,” Nick reached out to hold Miles’ hand, since he knew the other’s demon prosecutor days still clung to him like molasses. For once, though, Miles didn’t even seem to react to the mention. He just kept staring at him with a thousand-yard stare. “But I knew you were still under all that scandal. I just had to draw you out of your shell again.”
“And I cannot thank you enough for that,” Miles replied automatically, before shaking his head in disbelief. He covered Nick’s hand with his free one, fingers pressing into the back of the other’s hand as if to keep him there. “Nick, did you give up three years as an art student to pursue law because you simply saw my name in the paper?”
Miles said it like it was some big remarkable thing. Maybe it was, to him. Besides Gumshoe, Nick didn’t think Miles had a lot of people going out of their way for him in the past. “No, I told you, it was mostly the story. And the picture.”
“The picture? What picture?!”
Or…or maybe it was about his reputation at the time? That seemed more likely. Maybe Edgeworth was just surprised that the news about his demon prosecutor-ness had reached Nick in art school. “Yeah. It was a big headline, hard to miss. You didn’t look happy to be practicing law. To be honest, you looked downright miserable. So I knew something had to be wrong.”
That made Edgeworth pull his hands away, only to practically shove them against his eyes. Nick hurriedly reached out and removed his glasses from where they were shoved up his forehead. The papers on his lap cascaded to the floor at the hasty motion, which he grimaced at. At least they’d be easy to find when Edgeworth was ready for them. He folded the glasses in his hands, setting them in his now empty lap, and turned his attention back to Edgeworth’s temper tantrum. For gods sake, he looked more stressed than he did when browsing the records by himself! Nick didn’t even say anything bad today!
“You became a lawyer. Because I looked sad,” Miles stated, every word coming out clipped.
Well that… that was a massive oversimplification. Nick hurried to clarify, “Miserable, is what I said.”
“Nick.”
“Yeah?”
Miles seemed to give up whatever he was trying to get Nick to realize through sheer exasperation. He didn’t even lift his head from his hands, going from covering his eyes to cradling his own head. “How did you even graduate with a law degree?”
“Well, I was taking law classes on the side already. Y’know, ‘cause you defended me when I was younger, and I wanted to do that for others if I could,” Nick explained, grimacing at the thought. While he enjoyed law, taking those classes on top of his art ones was not pleasant. “Then Mia came around and I had a mentor, so I could make the proper switch,” he concluded quickly, trying not to linger on those stressful memories.
“So you gave up three years of what you were most passionate about?!”
Oh, Miles was being really dramatic tonight. He even twisted his body, lifting his head to place both hands on Nick’s waist and press his forehead against his exposed sternum. It muffled his yelling a bit, but only a bit. Instinctively, Nick placed his arms across the span of Miles’ back, one hand sliding lower to push up his shirt. He traced small, calming circles into the other’s lower back, the other remaining across his shoulders to tangle in his hair. It was much warmer like this, now they weren’t just sitting side by side on the couch.
If Miles wasn’t having a breakdown over whatever this was, Nick was sure he could’ve fallen asleep like that. “I wasn’t that invested in art, Miles.”
“Three! Years! You almost graduated!” shouted Edgeworth, hand slapping ineffectually at Nick’s skin. Not hard enough to hurt, but sharp enough to convey his… anger? Nick honestly couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. He didn’t seem to be, especially since he was letting himself be held.
“What’s three years in the grand scheme of things? I like law better now, anyway. I got to meet you through it,” Nick soothed earnestly, slipping a hand down to stop Edgeworth’s frantic movements. Three years were nothing compared to the decades they had spent apart and together.
“You. Nick.”
“Mmhm?”
“Has your entire law career been for my sake.” It didn’t even sound like a question. It sounded oddly resigned.
“No? You’re important to me, Miles, but I still want to uphold justice. That’s why I’m a lawyer.”
“You want to uphold justice. Because I defended you in elementary once.”
Again. Major oversimplification, but they weren’t in court right now. Nick didn’t feel like pressing the statement and wringing out every detail, even if Edgeworth was being grossly general with his words. “Uh, if we’re tracing it back, I guess?” he instead conceded, thinking fondly back to the image of Miles’ young self standing up to what felt like the entire world at the time. It was an oversimplification, sure, but that was when Nick really first started to consider what justice really meant.
“And you became a law student because of me.”
And well. Nick could let a lot slip, but these specifics felt important. “Not just because of you. It was because of Mia, really. She did a lot for me back then.”
It felt a little callous to disregard her influence and mark his entire law career down to some whim. Not only was his switch not a whim—he’d been looking for Edgeworth for his entire life—but had far more backing from Mia. Without her, Nick probably would’ve fallen to Dahlia’s influence. Would’ve ended up dead, most likely. She saved his life and led him down this road that he couldn’t imagine himself not taken. Sure, she might’ve not been the main reason, but it was a very close fifty-fifty.
Miles seemed to notice his slight offense and took a steadying breath, trying to compose himself. He took several more when that failed before seemingly giving up on deep breathing techniques. “And I cannot thank her enough. But the news of me. Being a demon prosecutor. Brought you here. I sparked your interest in being a lawyer.”
There we go. That sounded more accurate. “Yeah?”
Miles looked like he was about to have an aneurysm, which, what? Why did he even say that if he didn’t expect Nick to agree? It was a factual statement! That was just what happened! Miles was the catalyst to not only the interest in law, but the actual desire to become a lawyer, and then Mia helped him actually go down that route.
“I need to go lie down,” the other announced, pulling away from the embrace. This was the greatest news Nick had heard all night. The lack of Miles in his arms reminded him how cold it was in their home.
“Oh, great! What changed your mind?” he asked eagerly, gently scooping up Edgeworth’s glasses and standing up. His feet bumped against the smattering of papers over their living room floor.
He watched the thoughts fly through Miles’ mind as he gazed down at the mess he made. The moment his furrowed brow smoothed out to just an exasperated look, Nick knew that the other had given up on the very idea of organizing the papers back into something manageable tonight. That’d be a fun activity for them to do together in the morning when they were both a little less sleep-muddled. “You, you ridiculous man,” Miles sighed, carefully winding his way through their living room toward the bedroom.
“What’d I do?” Nick asked, trailing after Miles.
“Everything. Come here.”
Nick went, waiting patiently as Miles laid down on his side of the bed. The man even flipped over their rumpled blanket at the corner to make room for him. As soon as he slipped under the covers, the other shoved unfolded the blanket over his chest. It was potentially the most aggressive way he’d ever been tucked in, possibly ever. Once he was laying down, though, it was a different story. Nick leaned into the chaste kisses Miles gave and obligingly tilted his head to the side when Miles buried his head into his shoulder.
He murmured an amused, “Goodnight, I guess,” to the top of the grey hairs peeking up at him.
Before Nick could even dream of falling back asleep, Miles took several deep breaths into the crook of his neck. Puffs of air brushed against his skin, deliberate and paced and twice as distracting as normal. Nick focused on the slight movements of Miles’ torso, waiting for him to gather his courage. Maybe he wouldn’t have fallen asleep anytime soon, but he certainly would’ve stayed up all night satisfied. He’d be upset about it in the morning, but right now, this was everything he ever wanted.
Eventually, when anywhere from five minutes to an hour passed, Miles took a final, deliberately timed breath, and choked out, “...Your devotion continues to baffle me. There is not a day that passes where I am not left aghast by your belief in me.”
“Well. Yeah. I love you. Comes with the territory, y’know?” he shot back. It wasn’t some big revelation, more of a fact of life. The Earth revolves around the Sun, and Nick loves Miles Edgeworth.
“Mmph.”
“Don’t suffocate down there,” Nick prodded, grinning stupidly, fondly, down at the other.
“Your affection—”
“Love.”
“For me goes back to elementary school, Nick.”
Admittedly, that was a bit bigger of a revelation. He hadn’t realized that the timeline wasn’t well-known. It was just a core part of his life now, his sense of justice, and so was Miles. Wasn’t it better that it all stemmed from so long ago? It was formative, that way. Miles was formative, that way. “It’s been awhile, for sure.”
“I didn’t give you the light of day until you became a lawyer.” Everything, the exasperation, the doubt, fell away. It was replaced with an overwhelming sense of affection, like Miles just couldn’t help himself. “You had no guarantee your efforts would lead you here, but you gave up everything for me anyway.”
“And now I’m in your bed! It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”
Miles lifted his head to squint at him, before dropping it defeatedly against his chest. His eyes slipped close, lips twitching up in defeat. “You do have a miraculous ability to make it all turn out okay, no matter what it is or how long it takes. It’s your unwavering belief. Perhaps that's why so many people are drawn to you—love you. Why so many people love you.”
“I love you too, Miles.”
“...Goodnight, Nick.”