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It wasn’t that the kiss was bad, per se, it was just that it was hard to focus on how nice Edgeworth’s lips were when the lap he was straddling and the shoulders he was grasping were rigid with all the wrong kind of tension. Phoenix paused, kept his lips to Edgeworth’s lips and tested out his something isn’t quite right here hypothesis. He thought he heard a little frustrated noise bubble up from somewhere inside the lockbox of emotion that was Miles Edgeworth, which was totally gratifying in an embarrassingly school-boy with a crush way, but there was still the whole issue of what Edgeworth wasn’t doing.
(And the not-so-gratifying thought that maybe Edgeworth was holding his breath and pressing himself further and further into the couch cushions because he was having second thoughts about letting a second-rate defense attorney into his house and onto his lap.)
It was a shame, really, to have to interrupt what was still new that Phoenix couldn’t quite believe it was happening, but in this case there was no choice but break the kiss and raise a very reasonable objection to the proceedings:
“Relax, Edgeworth.”
“What?”
Phoenix hadn’t thought it possible, but the legs beneath the spread of his knees stiffened further. He stroked his hands over Edgeworth’s shoulders, trying to smooth ruffled feathers as he waited for Edgeworth to quit licking his lips like he was chasing evidence of their kiss. It was almost enough for him to give up on leaning forward and reminding Miles:
“Also, try to remember to breathe.”
Edgeworth’s eyes opened just enough to offer up a anxious, irritated glare to match his annoyed declaration, “I hardly require instruction from you, Wright.”
“No, really, if you don’t quit holding your breath you’re going to pass out.” Phoenix laughed, nervously drumming his fingers on Edgeworth’s shoulder and wincing as the other man’s expression inched from annoyed towards muted, blushing, outrage.
“I think I know how to do something as simple as this,” Edgeworth answered coolly, dropping his hands from Phoenix’ waist and staring pointedly at the wall. “Perhaps if you weren’t crushing me, I would be better able to maintain basic respiratory function.”
“Way to flatter a guy, Edgeworth,” Phoenix muttered, slumping forward only to be jostled by the sudden movement of the legs beneath him and the arms that had been around him. Somehow, in the midst of his flailing, he managed to thwart Edgeworth’s attempted escape, even if the perpetrator in question refused to look at him when he asked, “What’s the deal? Where are you going?”
Edgeworth fingers curled into the couch cushions, his words brittle and forcibly dispassionate, “It is apparent you aren’t enjoying yourself….”
Phoenix sighed and pushed his aimless hands into his hair, worrying at his scalp while he tried to figure out how to dig himself out of this hole without making it deeper. He shifted restlessly in Edgeworth’s lap, inched closer and risked kissing a cheek that was turned away from him, feeling the slow clench and unclench of a jaw beneath his lips.
“Hey,” he tried, embarrassed by the way his voice cracked low and rough. Edgeworth remained silent and distant, but didn’t push him off, so Phoenix decided to push his luck and bracketed a stern chin between two fingers and tilted that chin until he was staring down the very familiar barrel of Miles’ haughtiest glare. Undeterred, and maybe a little turned on, Phoenix smiled and went for broke. “Look, I’m enjoying myself plenty, don’t worry about that. I’m just trying to make sure you’re getting something out of this other than a stiff neck and oxygen deprivation. I’d like it if you, you know, liked this.”
Edgeworth arched a single eyebrow, studiously avoided Phoenix’s eager glances by gazing at the much less interesting floor, finally letting his head drop backwards as he quietly said, “I do.”
“You…do?” Phoenix repeated inanely, fumbling as always to keep up with Edgeworth’s quixotic little mood swings.
Even though this wasn’t the first time they’d been this close, even if there had been a few quick and hurried kisses here and there (often followed by days of Edgeworth’s careful avoidance and his own awkward overtures), it still made his stomach twist just a little to realize that beneath the calculated veneer of calm, Edgeworth was maybe just as nervous and looking to Phoenix to take the lead.
“Ohhh…..you do. I get it now.”
Edgeworth raised himself up just enough to level Phoenix with a dirty look that practically screamed, “Spare me your simplicity, Wright. Perhaps I should rethink this level of physical contact in case it proves contagious.”
Interested in maintaining the current level of contact and distracting Edgeworth before he did something crazy like decide this was a bad idea, Phoenix rushed to lean forward and curve his palms around Edgeworth’s face. His skin was warm and a little rough, a hint of stubble because it was late in the day and it chafed against Phoenix’s lips as he touched them to Edgeworth’s cheek and said, “So…umm, how about we try this again…”
This time, he opted to take a more Edgeworth-eqsue approach to the kiss—deliberate and precise when he brought their lips together, kissing him slowly and rubbing his thumbs over his cheeks until Miles parted his lips just enough to whisper a sigh into Phoenix’s mouth. And when he earned that opening, he didn’t hurry to make his point, but pressed nearer and nearer, sliding his fingers from face to neck to shoulders to chest, and hoped that his hands weren’t shaking. Edgeworth murmured something that might have been his name, slipped his tongue over Phoenix’s smile and at once gave way in a rush of breath. There were hands on his waist, fingers that bunched up his wrinkled shirt as they flexed and tried surreptiously to him drag closer. Phoenix kissed Miles more deeply, tangled his fingers in that ridiculous, showy cravat that had taunted him across countless courtrooms and chased the way Edgeworth tasted when he was enjoying himself.
Enjoying Phoenix.
It was a crazy thought, heady enough that he had to take himself away from the shiny, red, temptation of Edgeworth’s mouth and bury his sudden burst of stupid-giddy laughter in the curve of Edgeworth’s throat.
“What?” Edgeworth’s voice was almost as warm as the hesitant touch of hands slipping under his shirt.
Phoenix abandoned his hiding place, rubbed a hand over his lips and tried not to be too charmed by the color of Edgeworth’s cheeks.
“Nothing…its just, heh,…you…me….this.”
“Eloquent as always.” Edgeworth’s hand was splayed across the dip of his back, a gentle, cautious pressure.
Phoenix rolled his eyes and teased, “What can I say? I guess you just make me all tongue-tied, Edgey-darling.”
“You are singularly ridiculous,” Edgeworth said coolly, even as he glanced at Phoenix’s apparently idiotic mouth and muttered, “Even if you do prove surprisingly proficient at certain things.”
Phoenix laughed dryly and flicked Edgeworth’s stubborn chin. “Gee, thanks. I’m just tickled to have exceeded your expectations.”
“Your ego needs no stroking, Wright,” Edgeworth retorted, distracting Phoenix from making what definitely going to be a very witty and possibly lewd comeback by tracing absent patterns over his bare skin. “But….tell me…have you done this before?”
“What? Kissing? Of course.” Phoenix arched into the sweep of Edgeworth’s hands up his back and smiled. He had high, possibly insane, hopes of proving his proficiency and experience at doing more than just kissing.
Naturally, Edgeworth only glared and frowned as he clarified, “With a man.”
“….well….sort of….” Phoenix shrugged and leaned forward to try to grab another kiss.
“Sort of is not an answer.” Edgeworth grumbled, turning his face, digging his fingers into Phoenix’s side like he was currently really wishing he had a desk to slam to better emphasize his point.
“Fine, fine. Yes, I have.” Phoenix tugged on Edgeworth’s cravat and rolled his hips just a little to try and get Edgeworth back on track.
“With whom?” Edgeworth asked, eyes narrowing dangerously.
Phoenix wasn’t sure if the unexpected hint of jealousy was attractive or annoying, but settled on kissing the corner of Edgeworth’s disapproving scowl and answering, “Does it matter? C’mon, is this a deposition or a dalliance?”
“Dalliance?” Edgeworth‘s arms tightened around his back, teeth scraping over his bottom lip and in the sting and pinch of Edgeworth’s awkwardly possessive touch, Phoenix came to the conclusion that maybe what was happening between them was kind of a big, huge, crazy deal.
Phoenix swallowed, laughed lightly and said, “I’m going to stop talking now.”
“Pleading the 5th is a cowardly move, Wright.”
And even though the temptation to have the last word was so strong it made him twitch, the temptation to kiss Edgeworth’s hilariously endearing frown until he stopped looking so damned unsure was even stronger. So Phoenix gave into his better impulses, smothering Edgeworth’s inevitable questions of who, what, where, when, and why. He preferred to slip Miles the tongue and give him the much more interesting answer of you, kissing, on the couch, now, and because I might have liked you for a really long time. He preferred the sounds Edgeworth made when he rolled his hips or experimented with sucking on his bottom lip because sometimes investigations really yielded interesting results. He absolutely, definitely, preferred when Edgeworth grabbed his waist, opened his mouth and just went for it like he had something to prove, kissing Phoenix until he was the one wet-lipped and gasping for breath.
Edgeworth was so gloriously, annoyingly smug when Phoenix gave into the inevitable need for air that he had to resort to playing dirty; tracing his thumb over Edgeworth’s collar and wheezing:
“You know, I’ve always wondered what you’ve been hiding under that cravat.”
“Always?”
“A figure of speech, Edgeworth,” Phoenix muttered while trying and failing to figure how to get the damned thing undone. Long fingers knocked his fumbling hand out of the way, but as he watched the the pale slope of Edgeworth’s throat emerge inch by inch, he noticed how those revelatory fingers shook. Phoenix stilled them with a soft touch and an even softer, “You don’t have to, you know. I can go a little longer not knowing what great big secret you keep under all those ruffles.”
Phoenix could almost hear the answering clench of Edgeworth’s jaw when he said, “I’m perfectly fine. Please stop treating me like I’m about to break.”
Phoenix shook his head, smiled ruefully and touched the corner of an anxious frown, trying to explain as best as he could that he wasn’t sure sometimes that Edgeworth wasn’t as strong as he liked to seem and that the last thing in the world he wanted to be was another person who hurt Miles Edgeworth.
“Sorry, I just need to make sure this was something you want, too.”
Edgeworth stared at him, eyes narrowed and considering like he was a particularly frustrating witness, silent until he heaved the longest of long-suffering sighs and reached forward to tap the side of Phoenix’s head.
“Don’t be an idiot, Wright. The evidence should tell you that …I…well….that… there are…..things…..I want.”
Phoenix’s heart gave an awkward, sort of painful little twist that made his voice all funny when he teased, “Things? Eloquent as always, Edgeworth.”
“You have a smart mouth.” Edgworth flushed, scowled and grabbed Phoenix’s chin.
Phoenix attempted to smirk in spite of the fingers digging into his skin. “And you have a pretty face.”
Edgeworth’s glare and his blush darkened. “Pardon me?”
Unrepentant, still riding the high of Edgeworth’s stuttered confession, Phoenix answered, “Sorry, I thought we were stating the obvious.”
“Please be quiet,” Edgeworth almost begged.
“You first,” was on the tip of his tongue but when Phoenix had the rare pleasure of watching Edgeworth’s familiar frown tilt towards an impossible smile, he reached the very wise, very appropriate verdict that some arguments were better had with lips and hands than with words. He closed his eyes, reached for a half-undone cravat, and let Edgeworth hide his smile in a very persuasive kiss.