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"Wright- I've already said I'm sorry-"
"I don't think you mean it." Phoenix stands over him, glaring down in a way that sends a flicker of something along his spine... Miles isn't sure what...
Regret? Apprehension?
Lust?
It doesn't matter.
"But Wright-."
"You're the one who made the offer, Edgeworth. Anything I wanted, you'd freely take."
He didn't think Phoenix would accept it so readily. Would do this.
When he came to Wright's apartment it was with an apology on his lips. A branch to extend.
And Phoenix had, while thankful for his help during the trial, lambasted him. For lack of a better term.
It wasn't often that Phoenix let his true feelings show like that, Miles found. But the pot had well and truly boiled over.
And so Miles, desperate to be in the good graces of the man who saved him, had told Phoenix he would do anything. Anything Phoenix wanted, he would do. Anything Phoenix would like, he would procure.
Whether it be the acquisition of paperwork, easier access to a crime scene, a working computer for the office. He would give it.
But Phoenix hadn't wanted any of that.
Miles watched in a muted chill of disbelief as Phoenix told him to get on his knees.
And he had. He'd made his bed, and now he was going to lie in it.
Phoenix had taken his hair roughly, pulling it back until their eyes met. With Miles' neck bared, he wasn't sure what the man would do next.
"Open your mouth." He'd said, and within a split second Miles had complied. A glob of spit had hit his tongue, and he repressed the urge to whine.
"There's something else I want on you."
Phoenix released his grip, undid his slacks, which left Miles in the precarious position of being kneeled directly in front of his limp cock.
"I want you to apologize." He'd said.
And with the relay of what he'd offered he swallows, looks the man in the eyes and says, "I apologize. Truly, I never meant to-"
"I don't want excuses. I want you to be sorry." Phoenix grips his cock in his hand, not stroking.
Miles is practically vibrating, so tantalizingly close. Even if Phoenix hated him, he could not stop thinking about how truly one-sided that hatred was.
How Miles dreamed of this, being so close to that length.
Phoenix aims his shaft until the head is pointed at Miles' face. Miles opens his mouth, fully intending to take it.
So, it’s surprising when Phoenix tells him to close it.
"Close your eyes." He says.
Miles obeys, suddenly even more unsure of what was to come.
"I always wondered what the great Miles Edgeworth would look like, depraved." Phoenix speaks almost to himself. "And then it was undercut with the thought I never would. But here you are, prancing in like nothing was wrong."
"Wright, again-"
"I told you, I don't want your excuses. Not right now. Let me have this."
Miles closes his mouth.
"It's funny." Phoenix clinks his teeth. "It's a funny thing." He repeats. He doesn't elaborate.
And for a few moments nothing happens. Miles almost opens his mouth to ask.
But then he feels it.
A stream of wetness, starting at his hairline and dripping down over his face, his nose and cheeks. It drips down his jaw to collect at his chin.
It's warm.
Miles can't help the gasp that escapes him. A stray trail enters his mouth, salt explodes on his tongue.
He sputters. He starts to lean back involuntarily but Phoenix grips his hair again, holding him still.
"Yeah. I thought it'd look something like that." Is all Phoenix says.
With the steading hand Miles stays still, albeit shaking to the highest degree. He's not sure what to make of it.
The pinpoint of intensity changes, making an arc around his face. He feels it over his eyelids, dribbling off his eyelashes.
"Alright. I'm done." Phoenix says, with a release of his hair. He moves his hand in a way that almost resembles petting. "You did well."
Miles says nothing. Doesn't open his eyes.
Phoenix moves away, and yet Miles stays frozen. As still as a statue.
And then Phoenix is back in front of him, he can feel his presence like a shadow blocking the sun.
Miles feels something wipe over his face. A wet washcloth.
Phoenix cleans his face slowly, trailing over his cheekbones and jawline.
Miles opens his eyes then. Phoenix is crouched in front of him.
"I missed you." Phoenix says, pointedly watching his hand.
Miles’ eyes flick down. Phoenix’s pants are zipped.
Miles reaches up with a shaking hand. His hair is dry.
Miles looks back up at him. Decision made.
He swallows. Licks his salty lips.
"Can I suck you off?"