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The shift happened suddenly. At least, it felt like that for Phoenix. Almost two years into actually dating Miles Edgeworth and he still didn’t believe it some days. The two had plenty of hook ups across the last few years, with no promise of ever becoming more. First it was Miles’ own emotions, not wanting to be vulnerable. Then it was Phoenix’s, not thinking he was good enough for something as precious as that. But somehow, almost a decade after they reconnected, they finally got together despite all odds.
It was nice, how their dynamic easily shifted to that of domestic. Perhaps it had been a long time coming, with all the phone calls and trips and going to Trucy’s magic shows together. Really, Phoenix should be happy. He finally got what he wanted all these years without fully knowing what that was. Except, except…
His mind still whispered doubts. The shift to being disbarred to getting his badge back didn’t resolve everything. He couldn’t exactly shred the amour he wore daily for seven years without time and effort. It would be easier, lessen the burden, if he admitted how he felt to Miles. If he did, surely the prosecutor would help him. But he couldn’t risk that. Things were good right now and he didn’t want to stop them.
Instead Phoenix pushed it all down, settling for his thoughts to run rampaged when left alone. But somehow his thoughts got leaked out. It started off small, just comments on the strangeness of wearing full fitted suits, how he was still adjusting to being looked up too, notes on how his body felt heavy. He wasn’t trying to get sympathy, his words just leaked out without him thinking in muttered comments to himself.
Unknowing to him Miles was taking mental notes on each instance, gauging his reaction and waiting. Things came to a head when the two were sharing a glass of wine one night after a grueling work week. Phoenix, after binge drinking on and off during his disbarment, rarely took up a glass nowadays, but still sometimes shared a drink with Miles. He felt more comfortable now, knowing that even if something happens to his will to make him fall that Miles would stop him from falling too far.
They were sitting together on the couch, watching some reality tv show that neither of them really cared for, when it happened. There was a scene of a man wearing a dress and Phoenix felt his mouth open.
“I could never do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Wear… wear a dress. I just,” he cut himself off with a laugh with how ridiculous the thought was.
“Is it a personal thing or do you believe that men can’t wear dresses?”
Hearing the careful tone, Phoenix lurched forward to assure his partner. The alcohol making him a bit dizzy from the action.
“Miles, I was a theater kid. I don’t care about supposed gendered clothes. It’s just- can you imagine? Me in a dress?”
With his laughter, he failed to notice the blush growing on the other man’s face as he looked away.
“Y-Yes, I suppose I could.”
“How stupid, right? I could never, never look good.”
If Phoenix was a little more sober he would have noticed the shift again, Miles’ attention peaking to his every word and reaction. But the last time Phoenix drank was almost two years ago, having two glasses of champagne to celebrate the MASON trial. So he barley noticed his wine glass being taken from his hand and placed on the table before them.
“Do you not like the thought of wearing a dress or is it something else?”
“Miles, I’m not… not pretty. I could never pull it off.” In an exaggerated gesture he motioned to himself. “Look at me. I’m not cute.”
Miles opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. If he wasn’t as tipsy Phoenix might have asked him what he wanted to say. Instead the wine caused his thoughts to slip and his attention shifted as the show cut to some dramatic fight between two contestants.
The conversation easily disappeared from his mind before the end of the night. When he woke up, a slight headache just pressing in, Phoenix accepted the glass of water and breakfast from his partner. Nothing else was said about that night so Phoenix assumed that everything was fine. It was only a little over a week later when the defense attorney came over once again with the promise of another weekend together that Miles brought up that night.
The two were settled on the couch, the final credits rolls on a movie they put in. Miles had reached for the remote, turning down the volume but not putting on another show. Before Phoenix could offer any words, the prosecutor spoke.
“You mentioned something the other week.” His tone was careful, almost too much so. If Phoenix wasn’t used to how Miles could be he’d might have been worried.
“What thing?”
“About how you couldn’t wear a dress because you didn’t feel cute.”
Phoenix froze, breath forced out of him. He vaguely remembered some conversation about men in dresses, but not the exact details. Looking at his partner his expression was neutral. Mostly. There was a flash of something in his eyes, a slight squirming that he might have missed had he not played poker for seven years straight. There was more to this than he was trying to let on.
“Yes… I did say that. Trust me, I don’t think I’d be a pretty sight.” He gave a self conscious chuckle at the end, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well, I’d like to challenge that.”
Phoenix let out a small confused noise, only for a louder one to get forced out by Miles grabbing his hand and leading him off the couch. He didn’t ask why, and the other man didn’t add anything else for now.
His hand was let go once they reached inside Miles’ bedroom, eyes trailing the man as he walked to his closet, only to widen once his brain recognized what got pulled out.
In his hands was a red dress, a deep shade that made him think about a certain man’s suit.
“We don’t need to do anything,” Miles assured, voice ever so gentle. “I just, you put yourself down and I wanted to prove you wrong.”
Phoenix didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His mind was somehow whirling at a mile a minute and blank, vaguely taking in every detail of the garment in his hands. It was silky looking, the skirt having enough fabric to have plenty of pleats all around. A small ruffle trimmed the collar and slight puff sleeves. He allowed himself to imagine it, how it would be to put it on. The thought of seeing himself in it made his stomach twist, yet it wasn’t enough to stop him from slowly reaching out and grabbing the dress.
“I- I’ll try it.”
“And again, if you need to stop just tell me.”
Not bothering to respond, Phoenix placed the dress on the bed before stripping, throwing the t-shirt and sweatpants to the side. He was about to grab the dress when he got stopped.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” A confused glanced to the prosecutor caused him to elaborate. “I don’t think you’ll need boxers, do you?”
No protests were given. Phoenix pulled them down and tossed them aside with the rest of his clothes, reaching for the dress. It only took a minute before he slid it over himself. Not wanting to think about it, he turned to face his partner.
“Well?” He meant to say it teasingly, or perhaps a bit haughty from being right. Instead the insecurity was laced ever so clearly in his tone.
The chief prosecutor didn’t respond for a second, flint eyes scanning him. It was only after a minute of uncomfortable silence that he finally responded.
“Phoenix,” his voice was strangely quite, expression unreadable. “Look in the mirror for me.”
The prosecutor gently nudged him around, making Phoenix look at himself in the mirror against the wall. Phoenix felt a strange twist inside himself. The actually feeling of the dress on him wasn’t bad. It felt airy and soft. The issue was with himself. He was right when he told Miles that he couldn’t pull it off. Given his reaction, it was clear that the chief prosecutor realized this was a mistake.
Laughing, he tried to shake the whole thing off. “I told you that I shouldn’t wear dresses.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I told you. My body is… I’m not cute or anything like that.”
It was quite for a moment. He thought that Miles was going to concede and agree with him. He turned to face him only to be pushed back slightly by the force of his kiss. Despite his confusion Phoenix kissed back, hyper aware of his hands. Nimble fingers trailed down, tracing patterns around his waist through the fabric, one hand slowly rubbing against his crotch. An airy hiss leaked through his lips.
“I’m not sure I believe you,” his smirk pressed against his lips, lips trailing down to his jaw. “I think you’re quite enjoying being as pretty as you are right now.”
“Miles, I told you, I’m not—”
His protests were cut off by a sharp nip at his ear lobe.
“I should spank you for the lies you’re trying to spout.”
While he didn’t think he was telling lies — how he felt about his body was the truth — heat swirled at the thought. He loved it when Miles got a little rough. How he pushed Phoenix enough to get a taste but never went too far.
“Oh, please do.”
Pulling back, the teasing tone and lust were pushed aside. Steady seriousness in its place.
“Are you okay with this? With doing this while wearing the dress?”
While he didn’t believe that he could be cute, Phoenix knew the dress was doing something for him. And it was clearly doing something for Miles too, if the bulge in his crotch was anything to go by.
“We can.”
Kissing once more, Phoenix felt the shift happen. Unlike the intense, searing kiss earlier, Miles was gentle, kisses more like butterfly wings tapping on his lips. Slowly he was tugged over to the bed, encouraged to lay down. Miles moved them, having Phoenix lay prone in his lap towards the end of the bed. It took a second before he realized what he was facing. Seeing the mirror made a little trepidation grow. Before he could say anything, hands flipped the bottom of his dress up and—
“Ah!”
He couldn’t help but arch into the hit, face burring into the covers. One hand tangled in his hair, gently tugging his head back up.
“You’re going to look at yourself. See how pretty you are for me. How well you’re taking this.”
“Y-Yes sir.”
Phoenix couldn’t help but moan on the next hit, and the next. Miles was skilled, timing each hit perfectly so the sting was just beginning to tingle down before laying down another, each hit with enough strength to make him beg for more without needing to call stop too soon. Usually when they did this Phoenix was fine, his only sounds being pleas for more and moans and groans with each hit. But now, seeing his face staring back from the mirror at the foot of the bed, feeling the dress adorning his body, tears slowly began to fall along side his moans.
It was only after a particularly loud sob that his partner noticed. Everything paused. There was a sharp inhale from behind him before a gentle hand traced his ass, rubbing a soothing circle to calm the heat.
“Phoenix? Can I have your color, love?”
“F-Fuck,” Phoenix felt overwhelmed in the best way possible. “I just, just give me a… moment.”
“Is that a yellow? Want me to slow down?”
“No, no! Just—”
How could he explain it? The heat on both his face and ass, the lust swirling and twisting in his gut, the slight friction on his dick from his hips jerking forward on each hit paired with the feeling of chiffon on bare skin, his mind fogging from everything. If he didn’t get a hold of himself he was going to come from such minimal contact. It seemed like Miles was really worried because arms pulled him up, making Phoenix sit in his lap facing him.
Wiping away the tears, Miles searched his eyes.
“Phoenix? Are you okay?” Despite his nod, it seemed like his state was really making him worry because he paused before adding, “…Feenie?”
And oh, that made everything stop. If it was anyone else, any other time before now, he would have run to the hills from hearing that nickname. But hearing Miles say it, his voice and expression so clear and reverent, it pushed a low moan out of him.
“P-Please, call me that again.”
Another few seconds passed. Miles took him in fully, noticing the slight jerks of his hips as Phoenix tried to get friction from the dress, how he was hard and leaking from under it. A hand trailed up his arm to his face, gently caressing his jaw.
“Feenie. Does someone want me to fuck them? All dressed up, looking so pretty and cute, just for me to make you lose your mind.”
A nod, no hesitation to give. The lust swirling around wouldn’t allow him to try and form an argument.
“Well, I’ll need to prep you. Make sure you’re nice and ready to take my cock.”
Gently moving Phoenix off his lap, the attorney could only lazily stare as his partner got up and grabbed a bottle of lube from their nightstand. Phoenix went to take the dress off only to have his hands gently pushed aside.
“No,” Miles explained, shifting them back so Phoenix was kneeling on his lap once more. “You’re keeping it on.”
“M-Miles.” It wouldn’t be practical to wear something that’d only get in the way. “I really should—”
“Keep it on? Keep looking so pretty for me.” Even with his words, Phoenix could feel himself being evaluated. Miles wouldn’t push him over what he was comfortable with. If he felt uneasy with wearing the dress then he would stop this. He knew he could stop this, but couldn’t find it in himself to say the words.
“It’s gonna get in the way.”
“Don’t worry. It won’t.”
With that the last of his argument left him. Uncapping the bottle, the prosecutor squirted some on his fingers and rubbed them together. To warm them up, Phoenix realized faintly. Typically when the two had sex, it was fast and a bit rough. The slight shock of the cold gel quickly warmed in the face of friction. The care he was putting in now, pressing kisses across his face as he carefully moved his hand under the layers of fabric to gently press against his hole, made Phoenix’s tears bloom anew.
His lips trailed to each new tear, gentle assurances pressed into his skin. Phoenix moaned, wanting to assure his partner that he was fine, that he didn’t need a pause, but was unable to. Luckily Miles could read him more easily than he assumed, because as he pressed a finger inside him he spoke.
“It’s okay. I got you. Push me back if you need to stop.”
Phoenix nodded, arms wrapped around his back as he burred his burning face into Miles’ neck. Chuckling, Miles slowly added another finger.
“How cute. Are you being shy about your pretty little face? You don’t need to worry. I love seeing you like this.”
His cock twitched at that, and he felt as if he made a mistake. A smirk was pressed into his skin.
“Don’t worry darling, I’ll be sure to tell you as many times as you need. My beautiful boy. So perfect and charming for me.”
“M-Miles,” his protests got cut off from a moan as his finger brushed up against that spot inside him. Another finger pressed inside to join in to the presses on his prostate. “You’re being too nice.”
“I find it quite insulting that you’re claiming I’m never nice to you.”
“Y-You know what I mean!”
Phoenix gasped as a hand laid down another strike before the sting was soothed with a rub.
“I don’t. Why don’t you tell me then, Feenie, what do you want me to call you? What do you need me to do for you?”
Phoenix knew that he could push the game. Miles wanted this as much as he did. If he prolonged it then maybe the other man would give out first. But more presses inside him caused his will to break.
“Please, fuck me like a whore.”
A tsk.
“Wrong word.”
Okay, so if whore wasn’t right then… “Fuck me like a slut.”
A third finger was pushed inside, and for a minute he thought he got it. He was proven wrong by Miles’ next words.
“So close Phoenix. You’re almost there. You’re a slut but what else?”
It took him a minute to realize what the man wanted and— No. He didn’t want to call himself that. It wasn’t true. Tears were falling in steady streams and Phoenix found himself whimpering for relief knowing what he had to do, what he had to call himself.
Wetly he babbled the words. “Please fuck me like a slut. Like a pretty slut!”
“My pretty little slut,” Miles corrected, fingers pressing deep inside him for a minute longer to fully stretch him.
When those sinful finger retreated Phoenix opened his mouth to protest, only to slap a hand over his mouth. No. Surely he was just imaging things. His whine wasn’t that high pitch right? It seemed like he heard it right, because his partner was chuckling at him, gently tugging him back to lay kisses across his face.
“Sorry my pretty boy. I know you want it but I want you moved. On the bed for me.”
Shakily, Phoenix moved on his knees. His breaths were heavy and his ears pounding in anticipation, so much so that it took a minute and gentle hands on his back before he realized that he was being talked to.
“No.” Phoenix glanced over his shoulder. “You’re going to lay on your back. I want to see your pretty face while I fuck you.”
For some reason that made his blush grow. Usually when the two had sex Miles would take him from behind or he would ride the prosecutor. It was just what they preferred. The few times they’ve faced each other it was rough, fast and filled with lust. Considering how Miles was acting now however…
Phoenix moved, laying himself back against the pillows, arms loosely at his sides. His breath caught at his partner’s expression, eyes roaming over him like he was an art piece of be admired.
“Perfect. My pretty little thing.” Moving himself between his legs, Miles arranged the dress so the skirt was pulled up, leaving Phoenix exposed from the waist down. “Let me take care of you darling.”
The push in was slow, more gentle than he was expecting. His mouth opened to demand him to go faster but his request was replaced by a gasp as Miles suddenly rocked deep inside of him, stopping as he was pressed firmly against his ass. Leaning over him the chief prosecutor kissed him again, each tender press making the attorney feel loose and relaxed. A few minutes passed of them like that, before Miles finally pulled back to look at him.
“Beautiful.” And with that, he began to move.
Phoenix relished in the way that Miles’ hands grasped his hips, shifting them until a louder moan rang out, making him hit that spot inside him over and over. Everything that had happened so far had broken him down, making him open and willing, mind swirling with love and lust. While he had no words, Miles decided to make him speak.
“Tell me what you are?” Silence, only broken by heaving pants and slapping skin on skin. A mischievous smile formed on his lips. “Feenie? Tell me what you are, dear.”
A shudder ran through him, the deserve to please causing his mouth to open.
“I’m a slut.”
“Not quite.” A hand rubbed circles around his hip, not touching where Phoenix wished. The other hand reached up, tugging one of the attorney’s hands free from their grip on the sheets and holding it. “You know exactly what I want to hear… pretty boy.”
“I’m a pretty slut.”
“You’re beautiful. Oh so cute just for me. You always want to paint yourself so rough but we both know the truth. You’re strong, but you can be soft. My delicate little thing, letting yourself be free with me. Letting me tell you everything you are but don’t allow yourself to say.”
Whining, Phoenix turned his face towards the sheets. He felt it all crashing over him like a wave. The mixture of words and Miles’ pressing inside him, the low heat on both his face and ass, paired with how unfairly tender the act of holding his hand during this was made him let out a choked moan.
“M-Miles. Love you. Thank you.”
“I love you too.”
Another few thrust and Phoenix found himself coming untouched, clenching around the cock inside him. It only took another minute before Miles followed after him, releasing inside him. Both men were panting, and it was another few moments before he finally pulled out, flopping to lay besides him.
Phoenix turned to face him, happily accepting the kiss. Miles pulled back first, hand brushing through his hair.
“You do look beautiful, Phoenix. I don’t want to hear you say anything to the contrary.”
A slight shift.
“Miles…”
“We’ll work on it then. Let me get some wash clothes to clean us up. We can take a shower when you’re ready.”
Phoenix allowed himself to be boneless, letting Miles leave. He returned with not just a damp wash cloth but also a water bottle. Accepting both, the attorney’s blush didn’t go away as Miles cleaned him, instead looking away and taking small sips of his water. More whispered words of praise were spoke among the pattering of water on them during their shared shower, and that night Phoenix slowly accepted that perhaps his partner did believe everything he said about his body. Of course, that wasn’t enough to change his mind fully.
Two months passed and the self-degrading comments slowly leaked out once more. Phoenix returned from a long day at the office, excited to just relax with Miles on the couch before sleeping over, no other worries since Trucy insisted on sleeping over a friend’s house. When he went into the bedroom to change he saw it.
A shorter, more frilly dress, this time a light pink, laying on the middle of the bed.
Phoenix’s breath caught, body tensing as he felt his partner press against him from behind.
“I know how you’ve been feeling. Need me to show you how pretty you are… Feenie?”
Phoenix shivered, nodding dumbly.
“Please, sir.”