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Sister Bikini hadn’t even asked. She’d looked at Miles like she knew he’d fucked Phoenix before and would therefore be the ideally placed the person to take care of this situation.
This fucked up situation.
Because, of course Phoenix had picked up the Purple Moon Orchid out on the mountain like a thoughtless child. And of course he hadn’t read the one page - one page - guide to the temple which had mentioned the orchid and the fact that despite it’s rarity all visitors ought to be aware of it’s potential to be fatal.
That tiny little ball of a woman had given a look that seemed to say, well, I can’t let him die so unless you do it I will have to instruct one of my nuns to do it.
And there didn’t seem any point in explaining that casual sex with Phoenix Wright was something Miles Edgeworth didn’t do anymore. Something he had long filed in a compartment of his brain marked Bad Ideas.
Once, there had something about facing that man in court that was his own fucking Purple Moon Orchid. There was something about losing to him in court that could only be soothed by bending that stupid pretty mercurial idiot over his desk and fucking him and that was how it was and that, he had once thought, as good a reason as any to change jobs.
The first time he’d invited Phoenix up to his office post-trial and kissed him and the reaction from Wright, the goddamn fucking weak-kneed moaning, had simply presented a opportunity to gain face. And so he’d taken it. He hadn’t meant it to be a pattern, but he hadn’t meant to lose to Wright again, then he had and after Will Powers they’d fucked in his car, while it was still in the parking garage under his office, after Lana Skye’s trial they’d gone to Phoenix’s shabby duplex apartment.
The Gatewater hotel had then been, well, how do you explain that? He hadn’t lost that time had he? But he’d still gone back to that party and booked a room upstairs before he’d even found Phoenix at the reception.
That was the point when he’d decided enough was enough. Fucking Phoenix Wright was a bad habit. One he’d broken, by leaving the country.
Bikini escorts him to the cave where she stashed Phoenix immediately for his own good. When he steps through the metal gates, she makes a point of relocking them behind him.
“Is that really…” he begins, then decides not to go there. It’s not like being locked in is going to make things any worse.
So, onward. He picks his way down a flight of slippery steps and finds Phoenix in a small cavern lit by a lantern he’s set on the floor. Phoenix is sitting on a rock, thin blue coat pulled tight around his body. He looks like he is feeling distinctly sorry for himself.
Good.
Phoenix looks up at Miles as his feet reach the rocky floor of the cavern. “What are you doing here?” he says miserably.
“Seriously?” Miles says, raising an eyebrow.
“Bikini said she’d send someone to…” Phoenix pauses then, as if wondering how to express the situation he has brought on himself by not reading a one page -one!- document.
Miles nods and Phoenix says, “Oh. It’s you.”
“Charming.”
“I don’t mean it like that. You know I don’t.”
“If you were hoping for a cute nun, I can only apologise.”
Phoenix looks at Miles as if this whole situation has already exhausted him, as if a cute nun is the absolute last thing he wants to deal with. “I was hoping,” he says, looking up at Miles with big, sad eyes, “for someone who wasn’t my fucking ex.”
“I’m not your…” Miles starts, then pause. “Phoenix, do we have to start that. Now, with all we’ve just been through together.”
Phoenix gives a small, sorry nod. “You’re right. My heads not right. It’s that damn flower, I guess. Fucking me up already. I am grateful, really, for everything you did for Iris, for coming all this way, for… Oh, fuck” Phoenix breaks off as if a cramp has just hit him, and Miles notices he is staring right at his crotch.
He decides not to mention it, instead, says, “Thank you. And it’s not so bad, is it? That it’s me.” He plasters on a smile, or something like a smile. “At least I know what I’m getting into.”
“Funny,” says Phoenix. He tips his head back and follows that up with a long pained sigh.
“Just take your pants off,” says Miles, coming closer and sitting down on the rock beside Phoenix. “Let’s just do it.”
Phoenix stands up and drops his pants and underwear. Miles glances at his thighs. He looks good undressed. He always did. As he sits back down, his shirt parts over his dick, hard, flush against his stomach and leaking.
Miles leans over and unbuttons the shirt, pushing the halves apart, “Let’s not get this dirty, eh?” he says as he bares Phoenix’s nice chest. He takes a moment to look at it. Why not?
“Do what you want,” says Phoenix, leaning back as Miles arranges his open shirt.
When he’s satisfied he extends a pale hand and curls it around Phoenix’s wet cock.
Phoenix gives a long relieved exhale. “Oh my… Fuck,” he says.
“Good?” Miles jacks Phoenix’s cock once and Phoenix’s head falls back as he gives a long needy moan.
Fuck, that’s a nice image.
Then Phoenix’s eyes flutter open and Phoenix says, breathily, “You’re not going to kiss me?”
“Do you need me to kiss you?”
Phoenix moans as if the question is the most arousing thing he’s ever heard then, as if speaking is almost beyond him, says, “Yes. Please. Please kiss me.”
Fuck.
Miles angles his body so he can kiss Phoenix, using his free hand to cradle the back of Phoenix’s head.
Phoenix responds to the kiss with a wild passion, a sudden unmet need, mouth slack and his whole body somehow driving forward and dipping submissively to let Miles take him. Miles does it. The way Phoenix is moving it would be hard to not drive his tongue deep into Phoenix’s mouth, to take him, working his hard hot dick at the same time, and it feels so good and familiar.
He adds a little pressure with his hand and his mouth, but then slows to a tease. Phoenix groans desperately and tries to buck into his hand. Miles chuckles into Phoenix's mouth, moves faster and finishes him off.
Nothing to it.
“Better.” Miles says, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his hands.
Phoenix catches his breath and says, “No, still hard. Still hurts.”
Miles looks at the splash of of come that decorates Phoenix’s pretty chest and then at Phoenix’s still distinctly hard dick, pointing right up at him as if accusing Miles of not doing his job properly.
“Oh,” says Miles. “Did Bikini say what it took to clear the stuff from your system?
Phoenix’s only response is a pained moan and a twist of his body as if he’s trying to relieve a painful pressure. “Miles,” he says then, voice cracking.
“Okay. What do you think you need? Someone else. A, a woman? Oh god, you do need a cute nun. I’ll go up to the gate and see if I can…”
Phoenix takes a deep breath as if bracing himself for something. “Miles,” he says then pauses and breathes again. “Miles, it’s fucking obvious I need you to fuck me, Jesus.”
Oh. Oh.
Phoenix forces a pained grin. “It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
“I know but I, well, I thought we both agreed it was a bad idea.”
“We didn’t both… “ Phoenix stops and pauses, wincing. “Miles I can’t have this conversation with you now because all I want is… All I can think is…” Something flashes behind Phoenix’s eyes. Miles can already see the way this thing is coming in waves. When Phoenix next speaks his voice sounds different, half-broken. “Fuck. Fuck, let me suck your dick.”
“What? I thought you wanted me to fuck…How would that help anything?”
“I don’t know…” Phoenix rolls his hips with a pained expression. “I don’t know. I, I need you in my mouth. God I want you to come on my face.” He finishes panting, as if the words turn him on so much he can barely press them out.
Miles looks at Phoenix. “If I come one your face I can’t fuck you. And, I don’t know. Do I need to fuck you?… Let me just check how this thing works.”
Like Bikini couldn’t have given actual details on how to diffuse thing stupid fucking flower.
Phoenix blinks at Miles as he pulls out his phone. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Research,” says Miles bluntly. “I’m googling the Purple Moon Orchid.”
“You’re googling… Fuck’s sake, Miles… - Fuck!” Phoenix breaks off into a moan that sounds like he’s overwhelmed by pain or passion or, god, something. He slips off the rock, dropping heavily to his knees on the cave floor, right in front of Miles. And pulls off his open shirt and coat. He puts both his hands on Miles’s knees, pushes them slightly apart and says, “Miles, please,” then he looks up at him, naked on the floor, those big beautiful eyes dark with lust. “Please I need it.”
Fuck, why was he so…
Beautiful? says a traitorous voice in his head.
Yes, he reluctantly agrees with himself. Yes, beautiful. The most beautiful man he’s ever fucking seen. Naked, on his knees in front of him, begging for his dick.
Miles watches, stunned, unable to look away, as Phoenix as lowers his head and rubs his cheek against the inside of Miles’s knee, moaning, “Please. Miles, please. I need you in my mouth, your cock, I need it. God, give it to me.”
Miles swallows as Phoenix drags his face up Miles’s inner thigh, watching him gasping and moaning as if just the feeling of the fabric of Miles’s pants is turning him on. When he arrives, face pressed between Miles’s thighs, he mouths at the seam there, as if he’s too drunk on this sex flower to work out how to get inside the material, wet mouth moving over Miles’s hard dick.
Miles has been hard for a while now, since the kisses, as it happens. He’s not thinking about that. He is, if he had to describe it, maintaining a careful detachment from the situation. And it’s not easy. And he isn’t sure how long he can keep it up.
Miles forces himself to look back at his phone, tries to read the words on the tiny screen as Phoenix licks his dick through his pants. Absently he reaches out and takes hold of Phoenix’s head by the hair to hold him still. “Phoenix, a minute, I just need…”
“Miles,” Phoenix breathes over his words. “Miles.”
Miles looks at Phoenix and something seems to change, as if the wave of feeling Phoenix was riding ebbs away just a little and he lifts his head and slurs, “You’re googling Purple Moon Orchid.”
“Yes.” Phoenix’s face is still pressed between Miles’s legs. His lips are red from rubbing them over Miles’s pants. With a supreme effort, Miles looks back at the words on the screen. Reads them and says, “Oh.”
“What?”
“According to this, the Purple Moon Orchid is a desire enhancer.” He reads aloud from the page. “It makes you want what you’d usually want, but makes that desire unbearable. What you like, you love, what you love, you’ll die without.” He looks at Phoenix’s wet, red mouth. “Guess you just really like sucking dick, huh?”
Phoenix takes a shaky breath, like everything is still painful. “Just your dick. Give it to me. I need it. Fuck me in the fucking face.” Phoenix’s black eyes go wide when he says that, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“But…” says Miles, with a careful swallow and a concerted effort to resist. “Just a moment. Think clearly. What do you want exactly? What do you most desire from me? Spell it out. We need that to satiate the flower.”
“Fuck, Miles, do I have to…” Phoenix begins and then the wave comes again. Miles can see it break, see Phoenix’s eyes change from blue and bright to dark and desperate. Phoenix moans and says, “I want to suck you, take you right down my throat, gag on your dick until I’m crying,” he takes a gasping breath, “but I want you to pull out in time, leave me gasping and fuck me raw, no, make me beg for that, for your dick, I will, fuck, nnnngh, I will. Fuck, Miles.” Phoenix’s head drops back down between Miles’s legs. He presses his face to Miles’s hard dick, inhales roughly and moans, then looks up again, his face, if anything, even more desperate. “Miles, I need you to… fuck me. Fuck me hard. Make me come on your cock. Use me like a hole for your dick, use my face like a rag for your come. Come on my face, in my mouth, in my eyes.” And then he finally stops, breathless and panting.
Miles raises an eyebrow. “Such a romantic.”
“Fuck, Miles. This isn’t funny”
“Yeah, sure, I know,” says Miles. And it wasn’t. It was something else, entirely. “Alright. Let’s get started. Open my fucking pants.”
Phoenix tries to obey but his hands are shaking so hard, Miles has to help him. When Miles’s dick is finally released, Phoenix moans and falls on it, taking it all in a reckless deep glide. He looks beautiful with a dick in his mouth. Always has…
Always fucking has.
Why had he quit this again?
Because it was so hard to resist, that was why.
Phoenix’s mouth feels so good. So warm and so good. And the sounds Phoenix is making, the moans and gasps of desperate pleasure. The way his hands are gripping Miles’s thighs. It almost seems like, almost sounds like he’s close to…
“Uhhh,” Phoenix moans around Miles’s cock. “Uh, god.” And his hips jerk. Miles can hardly believe it, but he’s watching it happen. Phoenix is coming, splattering right up his own chest, jolting and moaning and helpless, coming from nothing more than having Miles’s cock down his throat.
Gasping, Phoenix let’s Miles’s dick slip out of his mouth. He falls back onto the cave floor. He’s still splattering come over himself, the last splashes marking his belly. He’s still panting, filthy chest heaving.
Miles stares at Phoenix, and, as soon as he has breath to do so, Phoenix wails, “Miles, please, fuck me.” He runs his hands up his chest, smearing come across his tits as he grabs his nipples and pinches them tight. “Miles come here and fuck me, don’t you want me, don’t you?” He twists at his tits again and spreads his legs wider. “Please. Don’t you fucking want me?”
He slides his come covered fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean, staring at Miles.
Miles stares back at him. He thinks of Phoenix bent over a desk, in the back seat of Miles’s car, forced over his own ratty couch. Always so fucking slutty and desperate. They way he’d moaned after that first kiss. The bright line that could be drawn from that moan to this this state he was in now. This, writhing mess, rolling in the dirt, licking his own filth off his fingers and begging to be fucked, this was like the essence of him, distilled.
Phoenix Wright, Miles thought, was a piece of shit, an impulsive fool he could live without, a mess, an undisciplined wanton masochist with no sense of dignity or self preservation and…. fuck.
Fuck that was hot.
Miles just can’t…
He slides off the rock and falls on Phoenix. He ravages him. He gets down between Phoenix’s wide spread legs and bites his way up Phoenix’s inner thighs, leaving a trail of vicious, bright red marks and Phoenix screams for each of them. Screams out a strange sound of pain an a desperate fucking need for more pain, thrusting himself wildly towards Miles’s mouth. Each of those needy screams makes Miles’s dick harder, makes him want to hurt Phoenix more. When he gets to the point where those shaking thighs meet, he dips and runs his tongue over Phoenix’s asshole, laves at it, wet and rough. Phoenix, yells, bucking his hips, screams and pants and cries out and when Miles licks him again, Phoenix arches taut and comes for the third time, sending another thick splatter of come up over his shaking belly.
Miles lifts his head. He runs a hand through the mess that covers Phoenix’s front, “You can eat this filth too you stupid slut,” Miles growls, scraping up come with three fingers and sliding higher to press it into Phoenix’s mouth. Eagerly Phoenix sucks it off Miles’s fingers, panting, “Yes, yes, more. Put it in my mouth.”
Miles scoops up more, marvelling at the desperate greedy way Phoenix takes it all.
When his mouth is clear Phoenix garbles, “Yes, more. Spit it on me. Lick it up and spit it on me.”
Miles crawls up Phoenix’s body. He dips his face into the rivulet of come down the centre of Phoenix’s chest and runs his tongue through it. Phoenix moans. Miles gets as much come in his mouth as he can, crawls higher and looks down at Phoenix’s gasping face.
Phoenix’s eyes go wide with eager greed. “Fuck,” he groans, “fuck, please. In my mouth.” And he opens up wide like a baby bird desperate for food.
Desperate for something.
Miles spits all the come into Phoenix’s mouth and over his face and Phoenix gasps and jerks as he swallows it. He doesn’t come again, but he looks like he got close.
Greedy fucking asshole.
“That’s enough of that shit,” Miles growls. “I want your hole now. I want to use you the way you’re built to be used.”
Phoenix rolls his head back against the cavern floor, showing his bare throat like an animal surrendering, “Yes, fuck me. Fucking take me.”
Miles stands up and shoves off his pants and underwear. He wrenches off his jacket and shirt all in one, so fast he hears something that could be the fabric straining or tearing, but it doesn’t matter, nothing fucking matters except…
He looks down at Phoenix, squirming on the ground, skin flushed and covered in sweat, belly and chest covered in his own come, mouth swollen, eyes-lidded, dick twitching red and hard, legs spread. Phoenix’s hands are between his thighs - thighs that are covered in bite marks - and he’s spreading his own legs wider with his hands, opening himself, showing Miles his hole.
Miles has never wanted anything so much in his life.
He drops down - naked, now - back between Phoenix’s wide splayed legs. His own hard dick, hot, in his hand as he lurches forward and shoves it into Phoenix. He doesn’t bother with stretching or lube and only thinks about that when he’s thrusting in, noticing, that, actually, Phoenix is already prepared and strangely slick.
He looks down at Phoenix’s face and grinds out, “You’re not just desperate to be fucked, that flower has made you slick and open, ready for dick like a bitch in heat.”
“Uh,” Phoenix moans. And it’s clear he likes that as much as Miles does. Miles’s mind is overtaken, for a moment, by the idea of using this flower purposefully, dosing Phoenix with it, reducing him to this regularly, for Miles’s pleasure. Why not? It only made him more of himself after all. Surely it was like alcohol in that way? It just brought out the hidden truth.
Because as he looked down at Phoenix, incoherent under him, all he could think, all he could press between his teeth as he thrust into Phoenix’s body as hard as he could was, “This is who you really are, what you really are.”
“Yes,” Phoenix moans back, “yes, yes,” then, “fuck, Miles, fuck, put something in my mouth. I need something in my mouth.”
Miles hovers over Phoenix, caged in his arms. He can still taste Phoenix’s come in his mouth so he swills his tongue around to gather some wet and spits it on Phoenix’s face.
Phoenix gasps with pleasure, jolting and moaning.
Next, Miles drops his body, smashing their mouth together. He kisses Phoenix hard, nastily, biting his lips and then moves off, over his jaw to savage Phoenix’s neck. When Phoenix moans because his mouth is empty, Miles lifts one hand from the cavern floor and shoves three fingers deep into Phoenix’s mouth, rubbing over his tongue.
Phoenix drools and splutters, gagging on Miles’s fingers, as Miles increases the pace and depth and ferocity of his trusts, fucking Phoenix as hard as he can, with everything he has, fuck this is good, fuck, it has never been better and then…
Phoenix moans around Miles’s fingers, bucks up and comes again, making a mess between their bodies. It’s so hot to feel that, that splatter of warm fluid, jolting out of Phoenix untouched, and Miles realises he is very close to spending himself.
He reaches down and pulls out, kneeling up with his slippery dick in his hand as Phoenix moans and whines about being left empty.
Miles grabs hold of Phoenix’s jaw with his free hand. “Do you want me to come on your fucking face or not you stupid bitch?” he snarls.
But Phoenix doesn’t seem to hear. He’s staring at Miles’s dick and he says, “I want that in my mouth again.”
Miles looks down at his dick in his hand, it’s filthy. Covered in mess from Phoenix’s ass. He shivers at the idea of it as Phoenix moans again, “In my mouth,” and opens up for it.
“Fine,” snaps Miles. Moving up Phoenix’s body he wipes his hand through the new spill marking Phoenix’s chest, smears as much of it as he can over his already dripping dick and shoves the whole thing deep and hard and, god, fucking disgusting into Phoenix’s mouth. Instantly, Phoenix comes again, crying out around Miles’s dick, body jerking and ejaculating almost nothing onto his shaking belly.
Miles pulls out of Phoenix’s mouth, shoving fingers into it before he can whine again about being empty. With his other hand he fists his own sticky cock, straddling Phoenix’s shoulders. He’s so close, he can feel his edge coming like a wave, rising in the distance, growing and growing.
Phoenix is whining and moaning round his fingers, just a mess, barely human, his body and face plastered in all manner of mess. Not just body fluids, moss and lichen and chalk and plain old dirt from the floor he’s lying on, smudged over his skin, his delicious skin. Phoenix’s throat is covered in bite marks. Miles stares at them as he uses his fingers in Phoenix’s mouth to push his head back, baring those scattered livid marks, watching Phoenix, looking right into his fucked-out eyes until that wave breaks, until he comes with a roar of wild satisfaction, in great white pulsing ribbons over Phoenix’s gasping face.
The moment he’s in stretches thin and snaps. His arms give way and he rolls aside, to lie down next to Phoenix. He feels clouds part, feels himself come back to rest in his own body.
Slowly, next to Miles, Phoenix’s chest stills. He’s no longer panting, no longer moaning. He’s him again. Soft, quiet.
Miles touches his hair, pushing a stray lock back from his face.
Phoenix’s eyes flutter open like a fairytale princess rising from an enchanted slumber. “Miles’s I…” he begins.
“Shush,” Miles strokes Phoenix’s sticky cheek. “I know. I know it was the flower.”
“Was it?”
Was it?