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Phoenix pushes open the door.
“Oh, hey, sorry, wrong office,” he says apologetically, going to close it again.
“Very funny.” Edgeworth sets down his papers. “Can I help you with something? Something brief, I hope?”
“Sure, once you put your clothes back on. Did I interrupt something? Got a suitor hiding behind the door with the rest of your, er- suit?” Phoenix steps inside, pulling the door out and peering behind it as though checking out the scene of a crime.
“You’re insufferable.” Edgeworth holds out a hand and Phoenix hands over the file he came to deliver in the first place.
The dress shirt is a light pink with rolled up sleeves and two - two! unfastened buttons at the top. No cravat. No jacket. Not even a waistcoat! Just one thin little article of clothing between Edgeworth and the world. Obscene, that’s what it is. Phoenix tries to discern the outline of an undershirt from across the room.
“My eyes are up here, Wright.”
“You harlot,” Phoenix gasps.
“It is 34 degrees outside-”
“93,” Phoenix corrects him, smirking when Edgeworth looks briefly pained.
“It is 34 degrees Celsius and the government buildings are implementing a cool biz policy. Cool business dress. No jackets, no ties, no air conditioning.”
“Great for the environment, hell on your dress code,” Phoenix agrees. “How’s the neck?”
“Exposed.” Miles reaches up to skim knuckle and thumb across his adam’s apple briefly. Phoenix swallows hard. “I don’t mind the heat particularly, but I have to set an example.”
Phoenix perches on the edge of the desk. “And how long are you going to waltz around in this state of undress?”
“Mid September,” Edgeworth says mournfully.
“Don’t forget sunscreen.”
“That reminds me.” Edgeworth rises to his feet. “Since you’re here already, I suppose I’ll ask your opinion. They’ve been clamoring for a department get together of some kind and HR settled on a barbecue this Saturday. I want your opinion on what to wear.”
“You’re asking me about fashion?” Phoenix snorts.
“Certainly. Which would you wear in this scenario? I hear it’s tradition to go with the more hideous selection. In that, your taste is impeccable.”
Phoenix pouts while Edgeworth reaches into his closet to withdraw two Hawaiian shirts - one with white orchids on an eye-searing magenta background, the other a sky blue covered with flamingos in sunglasses.
“As much as I dig the flamingos, you always look good in pink.” Phoenix admits grudgingly.
“Excellent.” Edgeworth tosses the blue shirt at Phoenix who nearly slips off the desk when he leans to catch it. “This one is yours anyway.”
“Mine?” It does… sort of maybe look like something he’d wear. He checks the tag; it’s in his size.
“For the barbecue.”
“Oh, is this an open legal department thing? I think Athena and Apollo have plans with Trucy.”
“I wasn’t inviting them, though Klavier would if pressed. I’m inviting you.”
Phoenix folds the shirt and when he looks up Edgeworth is holding out a small bag for his convenience. “Need somebody to help man the grill?” He jokes nervously when Edgeworth doesn’t retreat right after.
“Hardly. It’s catered. We have everything from ribeye to lechon, we hardly need charcoal dogs and half frozen burgers.”
“Hey,” Phoenix says, offended. Then, a lightbulb moment. He really does fall off the desk, or starts to. Edgeworth steadies him and lets his hand linger.
“You’re seducing me!” Phoenix accuses. “With the forearms and the free shirt!” He shakes the bag for emphasis. “And - and fancy food!”
“So what if I am?” Edgeworth asks indifferently. “You’re not going to pretend it isn’t working, are you? That’s tedious.”
Phoenix sputters as Edgeworth steers him toward the door. “Wha- why? How? Now?!”
“It’s part of my three year plan,” Edgeworth explains. “It’s important to stay organized.”
Phoenix doesn’t know if he’s offended to be a checkbox in a bujo or incredibly flattered. Ah, who’s he kidding.
“Am I on there any other times? Should I be looking into shared rentals? Ring shopping?”
“Not till next year,” Edgeworth answers, closing the door between them with brutal efficiency.