Work Text:
Phoenix Wright wasn’t totally obsessed with Valentine’s day, no. He just… Liked spoiling those he loved the most on the day. Even if just in a way to show gratitude and ways to show love and appreciation for their hard work.
Chocolates, in a variety of different flavors. Dark, milk, white, some with filling, some with and without peanuts, some with nougat and others that were just small little Hershey kisses. Some good, decent coffee for all of them to drink, some hot cocoa for those who didn’t like coffee, and even water and milk and creamers all set up on a table.
He even got small little presents for all of his workers and his daughter. Small little stuffed bears—nothing much, nothing too out there; just something small and something nice for them to know that Phoenix loves what they’re doing and telling them to keep it up.
Of course he does this every day. He doesn’t care what day it is—he’s willing to spoil and treat those he likes the most, when his budget allows for it. The thing is…
He wants to do this for the man who he loves the most out of all of them.
Not that he ranks his coworkers and his own daughter, but… He does love someone. Romantically, that is.
He loves Miles Edgeworth. And he doesn’t even know if the man likes Valentine's day or celebrates it. Sure, he’s a hard worker and sometimes spoils himself with expensive tea sets and tea brews and other things such as…
But…
Does he even like chocolates? Roses? Stuffed bears, extravagant elaborate set-ups and things like that? Does he even like him? In a romantic sense, of course.
Phoenix is down on his luck, it seems. Sighing hopelessly, hand rested against his cheek, mulling over his recent life choices and deciding which is the best way to just curl up in a ball and never confront his feelings in his twisting heart.
However, it seems like life has different plans.
Apollo Justice—one of his hardest workers, one of the men who work the hardest for him and who’s currently trying to get his own attorney’s office—walks into the room. “Mr. Wright?”
“Yea, Apollo?” The older man sighs, fixing up his locket where it hangs and yawning faintly into his hands. “Something the matter? Need help with a case?”
“No— Well, I can help you.” Apollo shrugs. “Unlike what you think, we’re not all oblivious, Mr. Wright.”
Alarm and slight fear bubble up in Phoenixes’ gut and lungs at this. “Wh— What?”
“No worries,” Apollo quickly assures. “I just– I just got some help from Mr. Gavin to assist with a few things. We’ve seen how much of a hopeless romantic you are.”
And as if on cue, Klavier walks in behind Apollo, one arm cradling his motorcycle helmet while the same hand from that arm holds a different, red and black, one. “Ja, learned quite a lot about Herr Edgeworth today.” He grins.
Phoenix lets his head fall onto the desk. “Wonderful… Letting my subordinate and his boyfriend help me. Wonderful.”
Klavier and Apollo both flush up bright red. Apollos’ blush is more noticeable than Klaviers’, and yet, they both are blushing in their cheeks.
“Do you want our help or not?” Apollo eventually whines out slightly, embarrassment leaking through his voice and words.
The older man eventually lifts up his head slightly, with a heavy sigh, and nods. “Please,” He eventually murmurs, quietly watching as the two other younger men chatter amongst themselves first.
He’s wanted help for as long as he can remember. He’s wanted to finally come clean to Miles about his feelings and about how he truly feels for the other man. He wants to cradle the man’s face and kiss it and squeeze it and tell him how he really feels about everything. He wants to truly be able to confess his love, his yearning, his bleeding heart on display for the man he utterly adores.
And yet, he’s surprised when Klavier pulls out a small little notepad with his old band’s symbol on it. He places it on Wright’s desk, before starting to mess with his short—cut, he cut his braid/curl off long ago. His hair’s short now, reaching his ears, like it did in his teen years—bangs that go before his ears.
“I asked him a few questions, ja?” Klavier starts, anxiously fiddling with his hair as if he’s about to tell a big secret that no one should know of. That he can’t even tell without feeling like Miles’ breath is behind his back about to demand to know what it is he’s doing.
“And?” Phoenix presses, gently, curiously looking at the scrawled notes on the paper before him.
“He likes dark chocolate. Er— I should’ve started with the fact that he… Appreciates Valentine’s day, ja?” Klavier awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “He likes dark chocolate. Big elaborate gifts. Though, er, he is… A hopeless romantic at heart, it seems.”
Phoenixes heart squeezes at this realization. “He’s a romantic?”
“Yes,” Apollo butts in, sighing. “We asked him a few questions and he was hopeless. Asked him what his favorite color is, and you wanna know what he said?”
He doesn’t even wait for his bosses’ answer, just continuing on anyway. “Blue. His favorite color is blue. And yet, he really likes having his stuff as red. Even said, too, that he doesn’t care what color of blue it is—just blue.”
Phoenix stutters over his own words, face burning up and his eyes slowly widening. “He— He likes blue?”
Klavier nods. “Ja. And, he’s gotten a lot of gifts from other people, from his fans, and yet he’s thrown them all away.” He admits, humming. “I don’t even get many fan gifts anymore.”
Wright’s heart soars at this. “Has… Has he said anything? About me?”
Apollo and Klavier exchange glances for a moment. Eventually, Apollo sighs.
“Have you heard of how much he talks of, say, a certain ‘That Man’?”
Phoenix has to think for a moment. Sure, he’s heard Miles talk of ‘That Man’ back in Europe. Back on trips when he didn’t have his badge back yet. Back when he was hopeless, when all he felt was despair and hatred to those around him… Save for his daughter and for Miles. He’s felt so much love for Miles, and yet…
Him talking about ‘That Man’, about how ‘That Man’ saved his life in one of the most stressful times yet… When he managed to find him innocent of crimes, when…
When…
Oh my god.
“Oh my shit.” Phoenix utters, it finally connecting in his head. “Oh my God.”
“I told you it’d take him forever!” Apollo sighs, rubbing his face and eyes. “I told you it would take one of us saying it to him!”
“Atch,” Klavier smirks. “Just wait, Herr Forehead,” he teases. “Herr Wright…”
Phoenix is still stunned. He is ‘That Man’ that Miles Edgeworth loves so dearly and holds in such high regards. “I—” He clears his throat. “Yes, Klavier?”
“What do you plan on doing, now?” The prosecutor asks smoothly, a smirk on his face. “Or, do you have any plan?”
“I…” Wright swallows thickly. He has so little time, but…
He can scrounge up something.
“I need to get Miles a gift,” Is what he finally says, standing up with a light head and grabbing the notepad. “I’ll— I’ll return this later! I need to go!” He shouts, rushing past both the younger attorneys on his way out of the door and out of the office.
Klavier smirks. “Herr Forehead,” He coos, “You owe me ten dollars.”
Apollo grumbles. “Asshole…” He huffs, digging out a twenty. “So we forget about this.”
“I’m not forgetting this,” He grins, pressing a small kiss on his forehead. “As I’m sure Herr Wright won’t either.”
Apollo blushes, yet, he still shakes his head. “Oh, Mr. Wright will probably end up dying of his own flustered emotions somehow.”
The prosecutor grins. “I’d hope so. It’d be funny to hear.”
“Oh please,” Apollo sighs. “We’d never hear the end of it.”
… … … …
Miles Edgeworth loves Valentine’s day. He has no one to celebrate it with, sure, and all of the gifts he’s been receiving from the small bundles of flowers to love letters written by cursive handwriting… It’s nothing that interests him.
But he still loves the air of the day. He loves it whenever he can imagine himself holding and entangled with the man of his dreams…
And yet, he’s positively sure that That Man doesn’t like him back. He’s sure that the man he absolutely adores does not feel the same, so… His fantasies are just that. Fantasies.
And yet, he still yearns. He still wants and wishes and waxes poetic in his head about the man he loves and craves on such a deep and carnal level, it’s almost impossible for him to be sane about it. Still, he manages to keep himself at bay and manages to keep himself restrained.
His thoughts are just that. Thoughts. Nothing more, nothing less.
Miles is looking at another card some fan of his sent him, looking at the cursive writing declaring their love and blanching at the fact that it’s written by someone he’s familiar with—some young woman he met over in Europe, whenever he was in a horrible state of mind and when he just needed a friend by his side—and sighing as he tosses the note aside. His assistant already let him know that there’s more, bigger gifts at the front waiting for him.
He sighs once more. How dreadful, how people waste their money on such extravagant gifts and declarations of their love for a man they have such a weird parasocial relationship with.
And yet… He’s surprised when he hears a knock at his office door.
“Come in,” He calls, brows drawn together slightly out of curiosity.
In walks the most ravishing man he’s ever seen, walking in with a different outfit than usual. Something that he hadn't seen Phoenix wear before.
A darker blue suit, with a black turtleneck under it, and holding a bundle of flowers that Miles was surprised to see had so many adoring flowers in it. It seemed like a while bouquet, plus some, with how big and overflowing it was through the paper that held all the stems in place.
Sunflowers, red and white roses, red daisy flowers, along with white gardenias, and a few other flowers that seemed like they were just for decoration. White and purple lilacs, a few stems of cherry blossom blooms, and even an orchid that was the centerpiece of it all.
Miles was floored.
“I, uh…” Phoenix smiles sheepishly, a grin on his face. It’s then that Miles sees the rest of his outfit—matching dark blue slacks, with brown leather shoes, and his locket hanging around his neck. He looks so good. “I heard that, you uh, like Valentine’s day. So, uh…”
The defense attorney comes closer, slowly coming closer and closer. “So, uh… Happy Valentine’s day, Miles?”
His smile is so awkward, so true, so loving—the prosecutor is so stunned and doesn’t even know what to say.
“You—?”
“I, um. I had more. Cause I heard that you like big gifts, and uh, the lady at the front said that I couldn’t take them up here, so… I, um, I only brought this and the box of chocolates.” Phoenix speaks, motioning to the other thing in his arms. A small box of chocolates.
Or, well, medium sized thing of chocolates. There’s nothing much about the box—something cute and nice. Black and red with a gold bow at the top, and a white drizzle-like design of a heart on the top corner of it. Miles gently comes closer, scared, like this is a dream.
His eyes are wide, though. He’s in pure awe, pure shock and utter awe.
“You…” He murmurs, gently taking the box of chocolates into his hand and unraveling the bow. He tugs out the bow, slowly wrapping it around his own hand—then lifts up the lid. He looks at the inside, and…
It’s more fancy on the inside. A vast array of chocolates, some with white drizzle and some with a lighter brown drizzle. Some that are hearts, some squares, rectangles… Even a few are triangular in shape. The prosecutor gingerly picks one up, popping it into his mouth, and…
“Um, s-someone told me you really liked dark chocolate. So, I uh, I tried to get as many of them as dark chocolate as I could. Some are white chocolate though, so, um—”
“It’s wonderful,” Miles whispers, so quiet, almost too quiet for Phoenix to hear him.
“R-Really?” He asks, with a grin on his face, the defense attorney looking so proud of himself at having done something good and something to be proud of. “I— Is it too much?”
“It’s perfect, Phoenix.” Edgeworth murmurs, slowly closing the box and setting it down on his desk, walking over to the bundle of flowers that the man also holds. He takes it, looking at the paper, and…
There’s something he didn’t notice earlier about the paper. It has small designs, small little drawings of a defense attorney's badge and his own prosecutors badge. They’re both next to each other, creating a checkered-like pattern and printed very faintly.
“I…”
Phoenix interrupts, nervous, fiddling with his empty hands. “I, um, I tried to get you, like… Something nice. So, so, I thought… I thought I could get some of their Steel Samurai printed paper, but, um… They ran out. So, I went for the next best thing, and… I spent a little more money to print out paper of my own, with them, so I could—”
Miles silences him with a kiss. One hand cupping his cheek, the other holding the flowers in a vice grip, trembling with his love and adoration he feels.
He pulls back at once, however, when he sees how frozen Phoenix is. He fucked up, didn’t he? He ruined everything. He’s ruined absolutely everything about this, and it can’t be saved, and—
And yet, before he can even finish his train of thought, or even his paranoia… Phoenix pulls him back, closer, closing their gap once more. His dark hands encase Miles’ ivory and pale face, and Miles has to gently place the flowers down on his desk before he cups Phoenixes’ face back.
Miles feels whole. He feels loved, he feels like he’s just planted his hands in warm water and splashed his face—youthful, alive—so, so alive. He feels raw, loved.
Phoenix pulls away, panting, a string of saliva connecting them both as they pant and stare at one another. Miles is the first to speak.
“Do you— Is— Am…” He swallows thickly. “What is this? Why… Do… Do I—”
“If you’re trying to ask if I love you, I do. I didn’t—” It’s Phoenixes’ turn to swallow, looking bashful as he looks away. His face is scarlet. “I didn’t do this just cause I wanted to, Miles. I… I’ve loved you for quite a while, and, um. I’ve just… Needed an excuse to confess. This is one, I guess.” He smiles sheepishly.
Miles’ heart soars. He feels like he’s in the middle of the cheesiest rom-com he’s ever seen—and he’s seen quite a few in his lifetime—he pulls Phoenix close once more, by his coat lapels, and he kisses Phoenix. Hard, lovingly, and with all the desire he feels all in him at once.
Phoenix makes a noise in the back of his throat, close to a shocked moan, and he melts into the kiss as Miles feverishly presses his lips against the defense attorney’s.
When Miles parts from the other man, catching his breath, another string of saliva connects them once more. His own eyes are blown out with desire—he knows, he can tell—but Phoenix, oh, Phoenix.
He looks so wide-eyed, both with desire and with shock, panting with an open mouth and swollen lips, with day-old stubble slowly starting to prick his lower half of his face.
“Miles,” He breathes faintly, getting closer to the prosecutor in question. “What— What do you want?” He whispers.
“I want a date,” Edgeworth instantly responds. His face burns scarlet instantly, and looks away. Though, some part of him is still interested in looking at the blissed out look that Phoenix holds. He needs to get a grip of himself… “But… With you, I’d do anything.”
“I’m off the rest of the day,” Phoenix instantly responds, swallowing thickly. He’s eager, eager like a puppy, and Miles can’t help but find it so cute. “I made sure to take off the rest of the day for this. In- In case things went well.”
Miles smirks, looking down his nose and humming at how flustered it makes Phoenix. “Did you come with other preparations?”
The defense attorney flushes up brightly. He nods, with no sound coming from him other than a faint whimper.
“Good. You go down to the lobby and grab your gifts you said you got me. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” Miles orders, smirking as the defense attorney nods hastily and rushes off even more so. He quickly turns around, gathering his things and sending an email to his subordinates and his other fellow attorneys saying that he will be out for the rest of the day.
Once sending the email, he logs out of his computer and places it away. Grabbing his things and files (and his most expensive bottle of wine he had tucked away under his table, along with a bullet vibrator that had been pushed back in the box multiple times before), he exits out with the wine and vibrator tucked away in his suitcase.
He walks down to the lobby, seeing Phoenix Wright standing there with multiple different bigger gifts. A large blue bear with a red heart, a basket with teas and more chocolates and figurines, and a brown box that held… something.
Miles feels his knees weaken, with a smile spreading across his face. He forgets he’s in the public eye, as he tugs Phoenix close to press a loving and endearing kiss to the other mans’ lips.
He still tastes so sweet, so loving, so amazing, Miles almost loses himself in the kiss with the man he adores, until the front desk lady clears her throat.
He separates immediately, clearing his throat. “Thank you, Ms. Farawaie, for your assistance.
A disgruntled huff is what he gets in return, eventually leaving with Phoenix down to where the parking lot was. He then prompts, “What happens to be in the brown box?”
“Oh— Um, I heard from Klavier that you really liked tea sets. So, I, uh… I kinda got one for you. It’s— It’s nothing much, I don’t think. It’s certainly nothing like your Steel Samurai one.” He warns, lightly, but slowly opens up the packaging.
Miles can’t see much of it. But from what he does see, it looks… Fancy. Intricate. Something wonderfully made and clearly has quite a lot of thought put behind it. Whoever made it was certainly a perfectionist.
Phoenix speaks up, clearing his throat. “I, um. Back in college, we had a side art gig, where like… We had to dabble in other things that just weren’t traditional, or digital, artwork and stuff. And, I, I wanted to try casting. But I never got the hang of it, so, I… I instead used glass blowing stuff.”
“G-Glass blowing?” Oh that’s a thought Miles did not need, moments before trying to get in the road. Phoenix, surrounded by machinery and hot fires, covered in bits of glass on his apron and dirtied by colors and sweaty and hot from all the work near the furnaces—
“Yeah! It was pretty fun,” Phoenix smiles proudly at himself. He closes the box, getting shy. “It was… Back when I was, like, hopelessly in love with you. So it’s red and gold, and, it’s kind of dusty? So… Fair warning.” He chuckles.
And Miles just wants to have the man right then and there but knows he can’t. So, without words, he places the box into the trunk of his car—cushioned by the big bear that’s stuffed in there too—and immediately drags the defense attorney to his car.
He doesn’t remember much of the car ride or the stumblings into his apartment. He doesn’t need to remember much, not when Phoenixes’ back is pressed feverishly against the walls of his place. Harsh and searing kisses are the only things that they both know, along with lingering touches and movements of hands.
Miles eventually pulls away.
“Is— Is this okay?”
“You’re always okay,” Phoenix breathes, with an air of sincerity, it leaves Miles weak at the knees. Yet, he has to be sure.
“No— I mean, is, is any of this okay? Are you fine with this?” He whispers, scared, because he doesn’t wish to push too far.
He loves the man before him, and he doesn’t want to stop. Not now, not ever. He never wants to stop. Yet he will in a heartbeat, if he was asked. He will stop everything for this man—stop teasing, stop poking around, stop prodding or doting or offering cash, try to stop the time and the world that passes by—
Phoenix gently pats Miles’ cheek. “Hey,” He whispers. “Stop thinking so loudly, please? You’re fine.”
“O-Oh.” The prosecutor murmurs.
“I promise you, I’m more than okay with this. I always have been,” Wright murmurs, bringing Miles closer to him for a more gentle kiss. “I love you. I think I always have. Please,” He whispers, “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
Edgeworth lets a kind smile slowly splay across his face. “Then… Can we be a thing? Truly? Partners, that is.”
“Always, yes, fuck yes, please.” Is what Phoenix responds to, with desperate need and desire in his voice, and they interlock once more.
This time, more lovingly, more softly. A promise, an oath. A bond, if you will; something that they never will break.
They love each other. They always have, and now… Now they can show it to one another. Now they can fully present their love and adoration.
And it all comes to a head when Miles dips his tongue further into his lovers’ mouth, eliciting a faint noise from the other man. He gingerly raises a knee upwards, pressing it against slowly marring slacks. When they pull apart, Phoenixs’ breath is desperate and harsh.
“Please,” The defense attorney murmurs.
“Please what?” Is the prosecutor’s retort, a small but loving smirk on his face.
“Take me.”
“As you wish,” Is Miles’ returning murmur, dipping his head lower and using one of his fingers to tug down the turtleneck, slowly sucking a love mark on perfect skin.
To him, it’s perfect. To him, it’s wonderful skin that he adores more than anything in the world. Though he’s aware of the scars. Of the burn marks, of the various whip lashes, of the damage that has been done to his skin and from growth. He’s aware. And yet, he finds he doesn’t happen to care.
He loves this man more than anything else in the world, and nothing changes anything about it for him.
Phoenix only pants heavily when more marks are being placed on his skin, desperately hard in his pants, and whining as he tries to shed his clothing. Yet, Miles only lets him shed his shoes and his overcoat on, leaving him in just the turtleneck and slacks.
“You’re so pretty,” Miles whispers with such love in his voice, Phoenix chokes on it.
“You’re so kind to me,” Phoenix murmurs back, letting the other man stare at him with wide and loving eyes. He’s gently tugged along to his partner’s bedroom, willingly letting himself be brought along. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” Miles murmurs as he presses more kisses on the other man's lips. They both slowly start shedding their clothes, showing more and more inches and planes of skin. Pale, ivory skin contrasts heavily with darker skin that is Phoenixes’ own.
They interlock once more when they lay together on the bed. The sun’s slowly setting, both of them only in boxers that are straining against years of loveless love, and they both only have one thing in mind at the end of tonight.
To be one.
Miles rests more loving bites and kisses to his lovers’ skin, whispering faint nothings and gently running his hands over Phoenixes’ skin, murmuring happily all the while. His hands absentmindedly squeeze at chubby skin and folds and thicker pieces of skin.
Phoenix gets anxious at this. He squirms a bit, whimpering faintly. “Are… Are you alright?”
“I love you,” Miles whispers as a response, murmuring it constantly. A squeeze to the thigh. “I love you,” A squeeze to the belly. “I love you,” Another squeeze, this time, in the upper pec area. “I love you.” Is all Miles can murmur and whisper.
It flusters Phoenix up to no tomorrow. Tears well up in his eyes, choking back a sob that’s so filled with emotion, letting Miles kiss him to quell his beating and thundering heart.
Miles soon parts, realizing that both of them are slowly flagging. As much as he would love just lazing around all night, both of them are desperate and wanting to finally put years of sexual frustration with one another down and fizzle it out like a firecracker.
He gently grinds down on Phoenix, dipping down once more to bite and suck more love marks on his lovers’ skin. There’s dozens of them now, along with gentle grips and caresses of Phoenixes’ skin. It’s all so lovely, all so adoring, all of it is so perfect…
“If you don’t do more, I’m probably gonna cum,” Phoenix breathes as a warning, whining at the end, and it gets Miles to giggle faintly.
“No worries. I think I have the perfect solution for this…” He murmurs, eyes lidding faintly… “Can I…”
“Hm?”
“Can I, er, be… Between your thighs while we do this?” Miles asks, nervous, shy, blushing like a schoolboy who’s just gotten confessed to at the playground. However, with how Wright groans, he’s already told that the other man loves the idea.
“God, yes, please.” Phoenix wheezes out. “Please.”
Miles presses another feverish kiss against his mouth, slowly pulling himself away and removing his boxers. He digs through his drawer, pulling out a small bottle of lube. “I don’t have condoms, unfortunately,” Miles murmurs faintly.
“It’s fine. I’m clean.” Phoenix smiles. “And… I wanna feel you. Please?”
If Miles were a weaker man… “Of course.”
The prosecutor wastes no time shucking off the defense attorney’s boxer briefs. He squeezes plush thighs, drooling at the sight it creates, and shudders at his own filthy thoughts. He clears his throat, eventually opening up the bottle of lube and pouring some on his hands.
He warms up the liquid, before slathering it between the darker muscles. Giving a firm squeeze, he speaks up.
“What are you fine with?”
“P-Pardon?” Phoenix asks, clearing his throat slightly so as to not stutter again.
“What are you okay with? Praise, dirty talk, anything of the sort?” Miles asks again, this time with more detail, and his face burning bright red once more. This time, he can feel his ears burning too.
Phoenix can only let a stuttered gasp out as Miles’ knuckles accidentally brush against his hard and weeping cock. “I’m pretty sure no matter what you say or do, I’d be into it.” He admits with pure honesty.
At this, Edgeworth groans. “Note taken.”
He shifts both of them. Phoenix laying on his chest with his knees slightly squished together, there squishing his thighs together as well, ass in the air so it’s easier for Miles to thrust into the muscles as if he were fucking Phoenixes’ ass. Wright is leaning against a pillow, face buried into it in order to hide his flustered features.
Miles slowly slips himself into the pressed skin, gasping at how it feels. “O-Oh my…”
“Ngghh…” Phoenix whines, cock throbbing at how it all feels. It feels so good, and he wants so much more—
“Such a good boy for me,” Miles gasps out, slowly starting to rock his hips back and forth. “Oh, oh, such a good boy…” He murmurs, starting to get lost in the pleasure that his untouched cock finally has felt.
Phoenix only moans at the praise, preening, squeezing his thighs together and getting a sharp inhale from his partner. A rough thrust causes another squeeze, thus making a rhythm of sorts.
Miles’ thrusting, then Phoenix squeezing, then a harsher thrust followed with a moan.
Edgeworth breaks their silence, panting. “Oh, oh— Oh, how I wish I was— Nhhh… — In you right now, how tight you would be for me…” He purrs, rubbing Phoenixes’ back.
Wright damn near convulses under his touch, sensitive, panting with his full chest. “Ahh— All for you, all for you—”
“My wonderful partner, wonderful mate,” Miles slurs, leaning downwards to thrust harder into the crevice of Phoenixes’ thighs. His mouth and lips hovering over Wrights’ skin in an echo of a kiss and bite, “Mine…”
The defense attorney’s cock jumps at this, at the sudden possessive streak. Yet, he can’t deny, he loves it. “Yours, yours—”
“Mine, mine to have,” Miles pants hotly against his partners’ ears. “Mine t-to… To have, to breed, to mate—”
And the thought of being his partners’, eternally, being used for something so loving and so careful, something that needs such a deep bond for—it shatters Phoenix, wailing Miles’ name as he cums then and there, untouched.
His legs spasm, clenching hard against the red weeping cock of his lover, earning a strangled moan from him as he releases just as Phoenix did.
They both pant, collapsed on one another, covered in sweat and drool and cum. Phoenix is the first to talk, a hoarse throat as he does so.
“We need a shower.”
“Mmmm…” Miles yawns.
“Babe.”
“Pet names?” The prosecutor rumbles faintly, voice just as thick with exhaustion as Wrights’ is.
Phoenix only rolls his eyes. “Babe, cmon.”
“Fine,” Miles whispers, slowly rolling off of his partner.
And yet, they both just end up staring at one another. Staring at the person they love the most, staring at the person who they craved for, for decades. Together, at last, just because of some silly and sappy day most partners use for their adoration.
Miles whispers faintly. “You know I love you, right?”
“I always will, now.” Wright lets a goofy grin slowly form on his face. “You love me so much you wanna breed me?”
Edgeworth immediately looks away. “Oh, hush. It— It was a slip of the moment.”
“Uh-huh. Say, how many times have you imagined me pregnant?” Phoenix only grins, laughing as Edgeworth smacks his shoulder repeatedly.
“Phoe-nix Wri-ght!” Miles huffs, flustered, red as a beet. Even his chest is dusted pink, his neck and shoulders too.
Phoenix only laughs and giggles more, snorting and chuckling to himself, as Miles slowly gets up to get them both clean.
He can live like this, he realizes. With Miles as his partner, with the most adoring man he knows, and with everything else he absolutely loves.
He can live happily like this.
And he will, for the rest of time.