Work Text:
r/AskReddit
u/WrightOnBro
Is there a way to un-gay myself after my friend made me drink a "Homo Potion" at a party? He thought it would be funny, but it actually made me gay.
I thought I was just having a weird time after drinking it, but I was still gay the next day when I sobered up. It's been 11 days sober and I'm still fucking gay. I'm pissed as hell bc this friend KNOWS im really susceptible to substances and stuff (one time he fake-dared me to suck my roommate off when I was five shots deep and I almost did it even though im straight) so I feel almost betrayed that he would do this. Does anyone have any advice on how to counteract this and un-gay myself? Advice on how to deal with my roommate would be appreciated as well, since this has made things understandably awkward at home.
Edit: STOP SAYING I'M GAY I'M NOT FUCKING GAY I'M STRAIGHT!!! Only reply if you have REAL advice on how to counteract this!
*
When it happened, Phoenix had only been a shot deep. A shot split between him and Miles, so more like half a shot, really. Larry had pulled out a rainbow-coloured liquor bottle with giddy giggles about how funny it was and Nick you gotta try this, and Phoenix had rolled his eyes and relented with a few half-hearted jabs on Larry's shitty taste in party drinks.
He really didn't think it would affect him.
Now, Phoenix is resisting the urge to chuck his phone at the wall after receiving yet another reply to his post saying that there's no way that the "potion" actually worked and he was probably just gay. Useless! Why did he even bother making a post?
Sighing, he drops his phone onto his bed and runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. Ever since that night, Phoenix's mind has been plagued with unwanted thoughts. Gay thoughts. And somehow, for some reason, they all seem to centre around his childhood best friend, roommate, and great asshole of his life, Miles Edgeworth. Phoenix's working theory is that it's because Miles happens to be the person he spends the most time with, because Phoenix would certainly never choose to think about his friend-slash-roommate's toned body or his stupid silver hair or his lips - his lips! - fixating on them and fantasizing about what they might feel like against his own.
Bullshit!!
Phoenix's phone buzzes, and he pauses his minor breakdown to check it, even though he's relatively certain it'll just be another bullshit reply to his post.
Surprisingly, it's actually a direct message.
Throwaway72848: Hello there. I saw your post on r/AskReddit and would have replied there, but everyone is being harsh, and I didn't want to get dogpiled like yourself.
Throwaway72848: Anyway, coincidentally enough, this sort of thing actually happened to a friend of mine, so I know how to help.
Phoenix's eyebrows shoot up, then scrunch back down as he frowns. It's probably just some troll trying to spoon-feed him more bullshit. No well-meaning individual approaches someone using a throwaway account.
Still...
WrightOnBro: Yeah? What's your advice then?
Throwaway72848: I know it's going to sound strange, but please hear me out: essentially, while under the influence of certain intoxicants, there's a higher chance for types of energy to build up in your mind. In this case, gay energy was built up in your mind.
Throwaway72848: So, logically speaking, what you have to do is expend that energy in order to get rid of it.
Throwaway72848: Following so far?
Phoenix stares at his phone, incredulous anger bubbling up in his chest.
WrightOnBro: you cannot SERIOUSLY expect me to believe that the way to un-gay myself is to DO GAY SHIT.
Throwaway72848: I know how it sounds.
Throwaway72848: I obviously can't prove anything because we're strangers on the internet, but I swear on all things I hold dear that this worked for a friend of mine.
Throwaway72848: He suffered for months before giving in and letting one of our other friends have sex with him, and then he was cured. No more gay thoughts. He's actually happily married to a really nice woman now, and we all joke about this story sometimes.
Throwaway72848: Anyway, follow my advice or don't, but I just wanted you to know that this is a tried-and-true method.
WrightOnBro: i'm blocking you now
This time, Phoenix really does chuck his phone at the wall - though it misses and ends up hitting his lamp instead, which is just as well since it means nothing gets damaged.
“Tried-and-true method”, my ass! How gullible does this bastard think I am?
*
Unfortunately, much like the gay thoughts, user Throwaway72848's "advice" sticks in Phoenix's mind much more than he'd prefer. Especially every time he sees Miles, which is regrettably often, since they're roommates. Worse, the "advice" even starts contributing to the gay thoughts - to the point where Phoenix starts to wonder if it would really be so bad to give it a try and see if it works. It'll be fine if it's Miles, right? The two of them have already undergone all sorts of embarrassing situations together, and Phoenix's gay thoughts had chosen him as a target anyway. Plus, Miles should theoretically know what he's doing, since...
"You're gay, right?" Phoenix asks one day, apropos of nothing.
Miles jolts, the pot he'd been washing clattering in the sink. "For God's sake, Wright, make yourself known when you enter a room!" he yelps, whirling around to brandish a soapy dish sponge at Phoenix. It's especially unintimidating when combined with the pink dish gloves that extend all the way to his elbows, where the sleeves of his dress shirt are bunched up. Completing the "look" are a pair of glasses, grey tailored pants and the bunny slippers Phoenix had given him as a joke once. He's like some ridiculous cross between a businessman and a domesticated dad. Not sexy at all.
This is the person Phoenix's gay thoughts had chosen?
His question finally seems to penetrate Miles' thick skull, and he lowers the sponge before moving to turn off the sink. "What kind of question is that? We've been over this," he says, eyeing Phoenix warily as he tugs off his gloves and drapes them over the edge of the sink. He folds his arms. "Don't tell me you've got another rant about how all your friends are either gay or taken. It's not my fault you're a theatre drop-out."
Phoenix rolls his eyes. "That's not it. And you're just bitter that a theatre drop-out can keep up with you in class."
"An assertion so absurd I hardly know where to begin," says Miles with a huff. A strand of hair falls in front of his eyes and he frowns, blowing a puff of air at it to get it out of his face, which of course doesn't work. "What is it, then? Actually, on that note, what's been wrong with you lately? You've been behaving strangely for almost two weeks now." He frowns, the strand of hair falling delicately over his cheek.
Wait, delicately?
Phoenix quickly banishes that thought from his mind. "I've been busy," he lies, and Miles obviously knows it's a lie, since they live together. He presses on anyway: "how did you know you were gay?"
Miles considers him for a long moment. Then he shrugs. "Well - you could say it started back when I saw the sixth episode of Signal Samurai - the one where he and the Evil Magistrate accidentally kiss?"
"That was just a stupid gag."
"A 'stupid gag' that happened to change my life," Miles says, laying a hand over his heart as though deeply offended. "Then, of course, they made the re-release with the Signal Samurai's new armour design, and it was over for me."
Phoenix's eyebrow twitches. What else should he have expected from 'Defense Attorney' Miles Edgeworth with his near-thousand legal textbooks and grandiose ambitions that never leave room for anything fun? "Do you have anything that doesn't have to do with Signal Samurai characters?"
Miles opens his mouth.
"Or any other fictional characters."
Miles closes his mouth.
Phoenix takes a deep breath and reminds himself that Miles pays three quarters of the rent and also does most of the cooking. Phoenix can't just throttle his own roommate, even though he probably knows the law well enough to get away with it. "So you're saying you have no practical experience."
Miles scoffs. "Oh, as if you're a shining beacon of sexual prowess."
Rude! Phoenix has at least kissed girls before - regardless of how enjoyable those experiences may or may not have been - which is definitely a leg up on Miles' zilch, but he puts that aside for now. "If you've never actually done anything with another guy, then how do you know for sure?"
Miles gives him an odd look. "I just know?"
"Yeah, but how do you know for sure?" Phoenix presses. "What if you've been going through life thinking you're gay, but then when you finally kiss a man, you realize you're not into it at all?"
Miles' expression shifts from odd to offended. "Are you saying I'm not really gay unless I prove it?"
Phoenix just shrugs with that smug expression he knows his friend hates. Miles scoffs. "Oh for - that's nonsense! How do you know you're not gay if you also haven't kissed a man?"
Phoenix splutters. "That's not the same at all!"
"I'm just using your logic!"
"That's not my logic, that's completely different logic!"
"Are we kissing or not?"
"Ki - what?" Phoenix stops short, blinking at him.
Miles folds his arms. "That's the best way to resolve this, isn't it? We kiss, I confirm that I enjoy kissing men, you confirm that you don't enjoy kissing men, and we go out separate merry ways until you get some other twisted logic caught in your thick skull."
"My logic is not twisted," Phoenix replies petulantly, willing away the heat in his cheeks. Truthfully, this sort of thing was the vague plan he had to get Miles on board without having to admit his... problem. But he didn't think Miles would be the one to suggest it! Isn't this too easy?
Whatever, whatever - he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. "Fine, sure." Phoenix drops his arms to his side and gestures awkwardly. "Did you want to do it here, or...?"
Miles' face scrunches. "In the kitchen, Wright? For my first kiss? No, best we move to the couch." He walks past Phoenix, grabbing his wrist and all but dragging him into the living room.
It fully occurs to Phoenix, now, that this will be Miles Edgeworth's first kiss. Guilt settles in his stomach like a rock. "Wait, are you sure?" he asks as Miles pulls him down to sit on the couch. "I wouldn't wanna, like, steal your first kiss just for some... some stupid argument."
Miles' hand briefly tightens around his wrist before he lets go and averts his gaze. "Well, it's not like I care all that much. Besides, you're..." he trails off, looking Phoenix up and down, before his gaze skirts away. "It's fine."
"Okay," Phoenix says intelligently, his heart suddenly racing. They're really... they're really going to do this, then? He can't help but look at Miles' lips. If - if - doing gay shit actually does work to "expend the energy" then hopefully he won't have to go as far as Throwaway72848's alleged buddy did. Maybe just a kiss will work!
"Right. Um." Miles shifts a bit, then awkwardly reaches out to cup Phoenix's cheek while Phoenix sits stiff as a board and lets it happen. His hand is warm against Phoenix's skin, which Phoenix is very much not thinking about. He shuffles closer, hesitantly reaching to brace his arms on the other side of Miles' lap, and they both lean in.
As expected, Miles' lips are slightly chapped and a little dry. Not that much, though, so it's not bad. Actually, it's kind of...
Miles pulls away, putting a bit of distance between them without taking his hand off of Phoenix's cheek. He searches Phoenix's face for a moment, then clears his throat. “Indeed. Definitely gay," he says, sounding a bit too upbeat. “You?"
"...Straight." Phoenix's voice comes out oddly rough, and he clears his throat as well. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like that simple kiss was enough to get the effects of the gay potion out of his system, because he liked that. And he wants to do it again. Damn gay thoughts.
They stay like that for a few long moments, staring at each other in awkward silence. And then they both start talking at nearly the same time.
"I mean, what does one kiss really determine - "
" - exactly what I was thinking - "
" - should probably do it again just to be certain."
"Probably should, yeah," Phoenix nods dumbly, gaze fixated on Miles' lips as they come closer and press against his own again.
It's... more, this time. Miles gets a bit greedy, pulling him close to deepen the kiss with admittedly sloppy technique, but Phoenix can't find it in himself to care for some reason. It's strange, considering it was always easy to find some small fault when he kissed Dollie. Yet now, even with Miles' obviously poor technique, Phoenix... kind of likes it? Was the gay potion that strong, or is something else wrong with him? Does he just like bad kissers?
It's unclear how long they kiss, only that it feels far too soon when Miles pulls away again, staring intently into his eyes. His lips are slick and reddened, tongue darting out as if chasing the taste of something. Phoenix's chest heaves, somehow out of breath from just a bit of kissing.
"We should - "
"Yeah - "
They kiss again, and Phoenix thinks, fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound. It's clearly going to take more than kissing, so he moves to swing his leg over Miles' lap, straddling him and planting his hands on his shoulders. If kissing isn't going to be enough to get this out of his system, then maybe he should - maybe they should -
Miles' hands slide under his t-shirt, fingers skirting the skin underneath and making Phoenix shiver. They come up to experimentally play with his nipples, and Phoenix breaks away with a gasp, unintentionally arching into the touch. Fuck, why does that feel good? Phoenix is a man!
"You know," Miles rasps as he noses along the line of Phoenix's neck, still lightly pinching and tugging his nipples. "Kissing a man probably doesn't feel that much different from kissing a woman, right?"
"R-Right," Phoenix says, clutching onto Miles' shoulders. It does feel different, but not in a way he can really quantify at the moment, so he just agrees. He should probably tell Miles to stop touching his nipples, because it's making it hard to think.
He'll definitely do that. Soon.
Miles' lips briefly seal around a spot on his neck before pulling off. "It probably wouldn't be enough to just kiss someone to determine things."
"Prob—probably not." Admittedly, Phoenix isn't really listening anymore.
Miles pulls back to look at him. "So we should probably have sex."
"We..." Phoenix blinks dazedly. "...what?"
"It's the best way to know for sure,” says Miles, watching Phoenix’s throat bob.
Phoenix almost says, know what for sure? before he remembers the ridiculous cover story they're using for this. The one that keeps Phoenix from having to say, that stupid gay potion Larry made me drink actually worked and you're the only one I trust to test the theory that doing gay shit will un-gay me. Because that, believe it or not, sounds even stupider than "the only way to determine if we're gay/straight is to fuck about it".
He knows he shouldn't question this, since it means Miles will actually do what Phoenix needs him to do, but Phoenix once again can't help but think that his friend is being just a bit too agreeable. There's no way he actually believes that they need to have sex in order to determine their sexualities, right?
Could it be that Miles just... wants to have sex with him?
"Wright?" Miles' quiet voice pulls him from his spiralling, and Phoenix realizes he's just been sitting silently, lost in thought. Here, in Miles Edgeworth's lap. After making out with him. Because maybe Miles wants to have sex with him?
That thought of that makes Phoenix feel...
Something vulnerable enters Miles' expression. "Look, we don't have to - "
"We do! I mean, we should. I mean - " Phoenix scratches the back of his neck, face heating. "I just, uh. Neither of us really knows how to... do that sort of thing, is all."
"I… know a few things." Miles drops his gaze. "I may not have done anything with another person, but I've... you know."
Phoenix does not know.
He does, however, realize that there's no other way around this, so he takes a breath and nods as firmly as he can. "Okay."
Miles' eyebrows shoot up. "Okay?"
"Do you want a written and signed letter of intent?"
Miles smiles, face warm with -- relief? It's a good look; Phoenix always liked his smile. "Charming as always, Wright.”
Phoenix's stomach flips. There's no time to process that, though, because Miles then stands up and all but dumps him out of his lap, and he has to scramble to get his feet under him to keep from falling on the floor. He makes some sort of squeaking noise, and then his wrist is being grabbed again as Miles drags him to his room.
"What the fuck?!" Phoenix says, once he manages to put words together again.
"What, did you think we were going to papapa on the couch?" Miles says over his shoulder as he opens his door and pulls him towards the bed. "We don't have lube out there."
That, of course, implies that Miles has lube in here. In his bedroom. Which Phoenix is currently standing in. Because they’re going to have sex.
Phoenix feels jittery, for some reason.
Miles keeps his room pretty clean - cleaner than Phoenix, at least, and he also does his laundry more often, so Phoenix doesn't have many qualms about being led to kick off his house slippers and sit atop his sheets. Miles even makes his bed every day, the weirdo.
"You look like a baby deer facing an oncoming car," Miles says, settling in next to him. "I'm not going to attack you."
"I know that!" Phoenix snaps, refusing to be cowed. His hands give him away, though, fidgeting and twisting at his shorts.
Miles watches his hands for a moment, then reaches to cover one with his own. Phoenix falls still. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."
Phoenix scowls at him, cheeks flaming. "We're already here, aren't we? Do you think I'd chicken out?"
"It's not 'chickening out' if you're uncomfortable — "
Phoenix yanks his closer to claim his lips again, which are softer now and still a bit moist from his previous efforts. The feeling of kissing Miles is somewhat familiar now, so Phoenix lets himself sink into it. They kiss languidly at first, and then Miles pulls back to take his own glasses off. He carefully folds them and places them on the nightstand, and something about that action makes Phoenix's stomach tug at itself. Without thinking, he reaches to pull Miles back in, hands fishing in his dress shirt as their kissing turns more fervent.
At some point, Phoenix's shirt comes off and he's laid back against the sheets, Miles unbuttoning his shirt above him. Phoenix's gaze lingers at the lean curves and lines of his roommate's body, feeling the inexplicable urge to grab at him and sink his fingers into the skin. Noticing his attention, Miles averts his gaze, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. It's actually... kind of cute. Phoenix gives in to the urge to pull him down again.
Miles lets out a noise of surprise before he recovers and kisses him back. His hands explore Phoenix's torso yet again, tracing the lines of it before inevitably coming up to tease his nipples. This time, Phoenix lets out a noise that is definitely not a whimper, and Miles breaks from the kiss to map a line of sloppy wet marks down his neck. "You really like being touched here, don't you?" he asks, voice breathy.
"Shut up."
Miles chuckles, continuing to kiss down his collarbone and his chest, all the way to —
"Ah," Phoenix gasps, spine arching as Miles' warm, wet mouth closes around his nipple. His hand flies to grab the back of Miles' head, clutching at his hair. Humming, Miles experiments with a few things, and the two of them quickly discover that Phoenix really likes when he flicks his tongue against him, or when he latches on and sucks. Phoenix's cock is already hard and straining against his pants by the time Miles finishes with one nipple only to move over to the other one, bringing a hand up to continue playing with the abandoned one.
The sensations are almost too much, and Phoenix thrashes a bit, whining despite himself. "Ah - ah — Miles, come on."
Miles chuckles against his skin. "Patience, patience."
Scowling, Phoenix locks his arms and legs around him and throws all of his body weight to the side, barely succeeding in rolling them so that Miles is the one on his back with Phoenix on top, sitting astride his hips. Miles lies beneath him, his grey hair haphazardly splayed across the bedding. His face is flushed and his eyes are wide, lips parted in surprise.
He looks...
Stunned. About as stunned as Phoenix feels by the sight beneath him. He pauses, unsure what to do from here. He honestly hadn't really expected to succeed in his attempted maneuver - Miles is larger than him, after all. There was no planned follow-up.
But then Miles shifts a bit and his hips make contact with Phoenix's, bringing to attention the fact that both their dicks are very interested in the proceedings. And, uh, it feels pretty good, even through their pants. Phoenix unthinkingly ruts against him, and Miles curses under his breath before flinging an arm around Phoenix's neck and pulling him down for another kiss. Phoenix goes willingly, even enjoying the strange feeling of Miles' tongue pushing into his mouth. It sufficiently distracts him from the way Miles' hate skates down his bare torso - until it slips beneath the elastic band of his shorts, that is.
Phoenix jolts, moving to pull away, but then Miles reaches inside his underwear and wraps a hand around him, and Phoenix ends up shuddering instead. A noise also might have escaped him.
"Fuck," Miles says breathlessly against him. "Fuck, you're so - " He kisses him again in lieu of finishing his sentence, body arching to grind his hips up against Phoenix. Because of the angle, he ends up rutting against Phoenix's ass more than anything as he continues stroking Phoenix's cock.
Objectively speaking, it's a poor showing from both of them. Their movements are clumsy in the way that two people with virtually no experience tend to be. Miles strokes him a bit too quickly and his hand is a bit too dry, and Phoenix can't think to do anything for him in return except to inelegantly press his ass against every grind of his cock. They aren't even full undressed, for fuck's sake! And yet, every part of it manages to light Phoenix up from the inside anyway, and he quickly finds himself hurtling towards the edge.
"Ah, wait, wait," Phoenix breaks from the kiss to pant out.
Miles, frustratingly, does not wait, instead moving his hand more enthusiastically. "Are you close?"
"Y-yes, but - "
Phoenix is pulled into another kiss right as Miles makes some sort of twisting motion with his hand that has him barely hanging on by a thread. Phoenix manages, though, and pulls away to duck his head against Miles' shoulder, intending to tell him to stop, but then —
“I’ve got you, Phoenix,” Miles murmurs before pressing a gentle kiss to his temple, and that does it. Phoenix can't help but whine as he comes, spilling into his roommate's hand and his own underwear. Miles keeps pumping him as he rides out his orgasm, guiding him through it as he kisses his temple a few more times.
"Enough," Phoenix eventually rasps, then swallows at the realization of how dry his throat is. Miles actually stops this time, pulling his hand out of Phoenix's pants in a somewhat awkward motion before flopping it off to the side somewhere. His other arm is still latched around Phoenix, not only allowing but encouraging him to lay his entire weight back on Miles while he gathers himself after his orgasm. Phoenix keeps his head tucked into Miles' shoulder as he breathes, doing his best to re-spool his mind from where it unraveled.
That was...
Well. That orgasm was certainly more intense than Phoenix would have expected, though maybe that's just always how it is when a second party is involved. Not like he would know. He also liked it a lot more than he should be liking anything involving another man, but... anyone would probably like a hand on them regardless of who it was attached to, right? It was just a hand! It's different from - from -
Anyway, clearly that wasn't enough to clear the effects of the potion from his system. Which, again, it was just a hand. So. That tracked, probably.
"You..." Phoenix says, intending to say something, but he has trouble finding the right words. Miles gives a questioning hum in response, shifting a bit, and Phoenix realizes there are more pressing matters at hand. Namely, the thing pressed against his hip.
Phoenix pushes up to brace himself on his hands and looks down at Miles. "You still..." he gestures vaguely with his head.
A slow blink, and then a small grin appears on Miles' face. "Ah? You wish to continue?"
Phoenix scowls and sits up, careful to position himself so he's not directly over Miles' dick. "Well, it's not like you got to - you know. So it's only fair. Do you want, uh..." Phoenix bites his lip. He can't bring himself to outright suggest anything, so he switches to, "what do you want?"
Miles just stares at him for a long moment, expression inscrutable. Then he raises his free arm. "I want to clean off my hand."
At the sight of his own cum all over Miles' hand - starting to dry on it, in fact - Phoenix squawks and all but throws himself off of him. "What the fuck?! You were just lying there like that this whole time?"
"What was I supposed to do?" Miles counters as he sits up and reaches for the tissues on his bedside table. "I couldn't reach the tissues like that, and I'm pretty sure it would have been rude to shove you off or ask you to get one. Unless you wanted me to wipe it on my own sheets like some sort of heathen."
"Of course not! Just - just - " Phoenix makes a frustrated noise. "I don't know!"
"Exactly. You have no room to judge me." Miles tosses the tissue towards the small wastebasket, missing it entirely, and opens the drawer next to his bedside table.
“I have every room to judge you. You should think about these things before you - mmph!"
He's cut off by a sudden kiss, Miles easily tackling him back onto the bed in a surprise attack. Phoenix quickly melts into it - kissing Miles is actually pretty nice, now that they both have a better grasp on the fundamentals. He's starting to think that the problem with Dollie was that he was too nervous about it. Not that he hadn't been nervous about kissing Miles at first too, but, well...
It's different. At the end of the day, Miles is still Miles: Phoenix's ridiculous, pretentious, stuff-shirted roommate and best friend who is an inexplicably good student and a lot of fun to rip into low-budget Steel Samurai dramas with. There are no real stakes, because it's not like they're doing this for real reasons. It's not like they'll be together after this.
For some reason, a strange sort of anger sparks in Phoenix's gut, and he winds his fingers tight in Miles' hair as he boldly licks into his mouth, eliciting a low groan from the other man. Miles pulls back just enough to yank down Phoenix's shorts and underwear - Phoenix bridging his hips to help get them off - then glances down.
"I see," he says, staring at Phoenix's cock, which is valiantly trying to regain interest in things. "I'm beginning to think I chose the wrong method earlier."
Phoenix opens his mouth to ask what the hell that's supposed to mean, but then Miles descends on him again and he summarily forgets all about it. Miles has no qualms about groping Phoenix and feeling him up as they kissed, sliding his hand up his torso to toy with his nipples again or stroking down his thighs. Phoenix hesitantly tries to do the same, feeling incredibly awkward as his fingers dig into the plush skin of Miles' sides.
Would it be weird if he put his hands on Miles' ass? They've already done this much, after all, and Phoenix is... curious. Heart racing, he lets his hands slide haltingly down Miles' sides towards his hips, only to pause altogether when they made contact with fabric.
"You still have your pants on?" Phoenix asks incredulously.
Miles hums against his collarbone, nipping at it before pulling back to examine the mark he presumably left. "Forgot."
Phoenix rolls his eyes. How could he forget something like that?! If he was gonna - if they were gonna - then he has to take them off, obviously! Phoenix huffs and pushes at his pants, and Miles seems to get the message, sitting back and hooking his thumbs at the waistband. As soon as he pulls his dress pants down to free his cock, Phoenix nearly chokes and has to turn to the side.
(What business does Miles have being bigger than him?!)
Pants successfully discarded, Miles sits up and turns to him, and Phoenix is a beat too late in averting his gaze. "Like what you see?"
"No. Shut up."
"How devastating." Miles doesn't sound upset at all as he crawls back over to hover over Phoenix on all fours. He dips back down to kiss him again, brief and relatively chaste, before pulling back a bit. "...are you still certain about this? There's no hard feelings if you wish to stop now."
Phoenix wants to roll his eyes and make another snippy comment about not chickening out, but the look in Miles' eyes stops him. It fully occurs to him now that even if this isn't "real", per se, it's still their first time. For both of them. And based on everything preceding this, it's pretty obvious who's going to take which role. If things were reversed, Phoenix knows he'd hate being out in a position where he could potentially hurt Miles, and he'd hate to think Miles was forcing himself.
Is Phoenix forcing himself?
...
He isn’t sure. Objectively speaking, maybe. He has to do this in order to test out a stupid theory, which one could argue means he is forcing himself. But it doesn't feel that way. He feels curious, and more than a bit intrigued — anal supposedly feels good, after all, though he hasn't explored that area on his own.
And... he trusts Miles. They'll probably end up fumbling this in some way, but he knows Miles would never actually want to hurt him. They both tend to be flippant and irreverent with each other, threatening violence or spouting mean words. But at the end of the day, there's always the unspoken understanding that they both care.
Phoenix steadily meets his gaze. "I'm sure."
Miles' throat works a few times, still searching Phoenix's face for any hint of a lie. His voice comes out hoarse: "Alright. Do you - do you want to do it like this, or...?" he makes a flipping gesture with his hand.
Phoenix's face burns; both options are mortifying in different ways. He'll either have to face Miles and have all of his reactions exposed to him, or be able to hide from him but have his ass on display! Still, based on the limited knowledge he has on this subject, he's pretty sure the latter position was supposed to make things easier for one's first time, right? And he very much likes the idea of hiding his face, in any case.
Instead of answering, Phoenix pushes at Miles' arms until he has enough room to flip over. He is, in fact, very grateful for the chance to hide his face in the sheets as he gets his elbows and knees underneath himself and registers just how ridiculous this position is.
“Christ,” Miles breathes.
Phoenix's entire body burns with embarrassment. He squirms a bit. "Don't stare!"
"Don't be ridiculous. You can't expect me not to stare when you look like that."
Skin prickling, Phoenix buries his face further in his arms. A hand alights between his shoulder blades and slowly slides down his spine, moving to cup one of his ass cheeks once it reaches it. Phoenix shivers.
Miles clears his throat. "Have you ever...?"
"...No."
"Alright. That's fine." The hand pulls away, and there's the distinct sound of the plastic flip-top of a bottle opening. "Just... try to relax. And breathe."
Phoenix hums in acknowledgement, but it's admittedly hard to relax while waiting in blind anticipation for Miles to... to...
A slicked finger presses against his skin, just behind his balls before stroking slowly up his taint towards his hole. Phoenix shudders and chokes back a noise - no way is he going to make some pathetic sound just from that! The finger massages against his hole, undemanding, while Miles' other hand splays out across his lower back in a grounding touch. Phoenix gradually acclimates to the foreign feeling of being touched there, and then that finger slowly presses inside.
He tenses up.
It's weird, okay? And not pleasurable at all - not yet, at least. Then again, it's only the tip of one finger. Miles' other hand starts soothingly running up and down his spine. "You need to relax, remember?"
"You try relaxing like this," Phoenix grumbles.
A small chuckle. "You think I haven't done this to myself before?"
His words send sparks skittering through Phoenix's bloodstream. Miles actually...? Well, he's a gay guy, so it makes sense that he'd be a bit more familiar with... this sort of thing. Phoenix never assumed, of course! And it's not like he spends his time thinking about how his roommate chooses to jack off or what said jacking off entails! That would be weird.
But now that the thought is in his head, he can't help the subsequent curiosity. Does Miles do it like this, or in some other position? Does he - Does he use toys? He's still a student and doesn't make money yet, so Phoenix can't imagine he has some wide assortment. One, maybe two go-to options, probably. Or just his fingers, like he's doing with Phoenix right now.
"Is this alright?" Miles asks, noticing the way Phoenix shudders. His finger slowly moves in and out.
"Shut up."
He stops. "I'm serious. You need to tell me if something is wrong."
Ugh, fuck Miles for making sense. "It - it's fine," Phoenix mumbles. "Just... weird."
Miles hums. "It starts out that way. It’ll improve soon, trust me. But you'll tell me if I do something you don't like, right?”
The hand on Phoenix's back presses down a bit more, demanding in its weight, and goosebumps spread across Phoenix’s skin. He manages to give some sort of noise of confirmation, and Miles starts moving again.
Miles is eventually proven right - something that would highly irritate Phoenix in most other circumstances. It's hard to be irritated, though, as Miles works a second finger inside and the drag of them in and out slowly shifts from weird to nice. Then, Miles starts scissoring his fingers to work him open further, occasionally crooking them as though rooting around for something.
"...around here somewhere," Phoenix hears him muttering to himself. Before Phoenix can ask what he's talking about, Miles’ fingers press against something that has his hips pitching and a yelp escaping him. “There it is."
"There what is?" Phoenix snaps, pushing up on his elbows so he can twist his head over his shoulder to glare at him.
Miles blinks. "Are you telling me you've never heard of a prostate before?"
Oh. Oh. That. Phoenix vaguely knows that the prostate is supposedly what makes anal feel good, of course. But he didn't think it would be like that!
Phoenix bristles. "Of course I - hah - "
His entire sentence is lost as Miles takes the opportunity to press against that spot again - and with Phoenix's face fully visible too, the bastard. He quickly ducks his head back down as Miles starts fingering him more intensely, locating his prostate with nearly every pass of his fingers. It's a different sort of pleasure from what he's used to, and the unfamiliarity of it makes it impossible to guard against. Soon, Phoenix is panting into the sheets, hips pressing back into every thrust.
"You like that, don’t you, Phoenix?" Miles asks, voice breathy. "You like having my fingers inside you?"
Why did he have to say things like that?!
Miles ignores Phoenix's telepathic pleas to shut the fuck up. "You feel incredible around my fingers, you know. I bet you'd feel even better around my cock."
"Ngh, ah - Miles, I - "
"Close again?"
Phoenix shakes his head. "D-Don't know."
Can he even come like this? Is that a thing? His cock hasn't been touched in what feels like ages, and it aches as Miles just keeps finger-fucking him.
"Do you want to come like this?" Miles curls his fingers especially hard. "Or on my cock?"
"Ah! You—! Stop s-saying things like that!"
"I'm asking important questions here, Phoenix." Miles moves his free hand, slowly sliding it along Phoenix's skin, closer and closer to his cock. "You need to tell me which one you want."
"What - Of course I want - " Phoenix snaps his mouth shut with a grimace. He can't just say something like that.
Miles' free hand comes tantalizingly close to his cock before bypassing it entirely, instead moving to massage his taint. And it's — it feels good, but it's also so not what Phoenix needs right now. He feels like a balloon made of some material that refuses to burst, instead only stretching thinner and thinner with no promise of release.
"Sorry, I couldn't catch that," Miles practically purrs. "Just tell me what you want."
He obviously already knows the answer!
Phoenix trembles beneath him, so wound up that he can't even manage to care how he whines with practically each breath. "Ah— Mi — I want —"
"Hm?" Miles twists his fingers inside him, and Phoenix folds.
"C-Cock! Your c — " Phoenix bites at the sheets, which feel surprisingly damp. Is he crying? "Miles, please!"
Miles completely stops, as though briefly frozen. Then, he curses under his breath and pulls his fingers out, and Phoenix involuntarily whines at the loss. He collapses forward a bit; not fully, because then his dick will touch the bed, and then he'll probably immediately come and thoroughly embarrass himself; and tries to catch his breath. His soupy mind vaguely registers Miles saying something about Phoenix not knowing how attractive he is, which Phoenix will promptly feel indignant about. In a moment.
The sound of crinkling plastic catches his attention, and he twists a bit to look over his shoulder. "You own condoms?"
Miles looks up from where his slippery hands are struggling with the wrapper. "Indeed. Verily, I say. Ergo." He clears his throat. "It's best to be prepared, isn't it? What if the opportunity to lose my virginity came along, but was thwarted by a lack of condoms?"
Phoenix supposes that makes sense. And, technically, that's kind of the situation they're in right now. Still, "Is that really necessary?"
Miles freezes. "What."
"Y'know..." Phoenix turns his warm face back into the safety of his arms. "Neither of us has... um. So, we're both clean, right?"
"Well yes, but..."
No further argument comes. Phoenix rolls his eyes with a huff. "Whatever. Use the stupid condom or don't. I just figured since you can't seem to get the damn thing open, then we might as well not deal with it."
Miles makes a strange, choked noise. "You make a good point..."
Even so, he doesn't move for a few moments, and Phoenix's hackles slowly rise. Is it really such a big deal...? Phoenix is getting ready to turn and snap at him again, but then he hears the quiet sound of the condom packet dropping to the bed, followed by the flip-top of the lube again. Phoenix takes a deep breath and tries to relax, wary of how much he might have tensed up during that conversation.
One of Miles' hands return to lay on his back, serving as all the warning he gets before something slick and blunt presses against his asshole. Still, Phoenix very nearly jolts and only barely manages to hold still. His heart races in his throat as Miles slowly pushes forward—
In all honesty, Miles' dick is barely much wider than his fingers. It doesn't really hurt, but it still feels strange, and different, and it takes most of Phoenix's energy to keep from seizing up as soon as the tip is inside. He tries to focus on his breathing, trembling a bit as he forces deep breaths in and out.
"God," Miles mutters, stopping even though he's barely inside. "I'm not - I'm not sure I'm going to last."
"Are you serious?" Phoenix hisses.
"You got to come once already, and I didn't, so don't you dare complain," Miles snaps. "Besides, you feel incredibly good."
"Whose fault was that? And what do you mean "incredibly good"? You're barely even in me!"
"That's exactly my point! Just - just give me a minute, alright?"
Phoenix groans and drops his forehead against the sheets, which ends up shifting the two of them a bit and drawing another hissed curse from Miles. He falls still. Seconds tick by, embarrassment steadily building as there's nothing for Phoenix to do but sit there with the knowledge that Miles' cock is (barely) inside him. His body also heats with that knowledge, and it takes more and more energy to keep from squirming.
Eventually, Miles lets out a slow breath. "Alright. I think I'm, um. I think we're good."
He punctuates that statement by pushing in more, and Phoenix exhales at the feeling of slowly being filled. The plus side of Miles' stupid need for a break means that Phoenix had relaxed more as well, so it doesn't even really hurt as Miles presses inside. He gives in to the urge to rock his hips back and speed up the process, and Miles lets out a breathy chuckle. "Impatient?"
"Shut up."
Once Miles is fully inside, he pauses again, and Phoenix bites back a whine. Does he really have to go so slow?! Luckily, though, he's spared the embarrassment of having to say something, because Miles gradually pulls out and thrusts back in.
Oh.
That was -
He does it again, then again. His pace is careful and halting, and Phoenix is lucky if Miles manages to brush against his prostate, but the sheer feeling of being filled again and again... of being fucked...
"Hah," Phoenix moans as he grasps at the sheets. His hips rock back into each thrust, already craving more, harder.
"Ah, is this alright?" Miles asks breathily. "Is it good?"
Phoenix snaps his mouth shut so that his pathetic yes instead comes out as an equally-pathetic whimper. Because it is good, even despite Miles' total lack of technique and the way his rhythm frustratingly changes at random times like he doesn't even intend it. But if even this is good, then it can probably only get better, right? They'll improve, the more they practice, the more they do this -
The more they...
Oh.
He wants that.
Face buried in the sheets, barely able to focus on anything except for the sheer feeling of it all, Phoenix is able to understand the deceptively simple truth: the potion, the 'gay energy expending' - all of that was just excuses. Ones that Phoenix couldn’t recognize until now, face-down on Miles' bed while Miles pounds into him again and again.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Miles groans, disturbing Phoenix's thoughts. "Better than I ever imagined."
The words zip right down Phoenix's spine. Miles imagined this? How often? And for how long? His willingness to go along with Phoenix's ridiculous excuses make it obvious in hindsight, but...
Does Miles like him? Like, seriously like him?
The thought of that doesn't bring the reaction that Phoenix would have previously expected from himself. There's no clenching in his chest, no cold, lead ball sinking in his stomach over the fact that he'll have to reject his friend's feelings. Rather, a warmth pools in his gut and spreads outward through his body, filling him with a shivery feeling.
Miles likes him.
Suddenly, Phoenix is very close to coming again.
"Ah, ah—" He swallows around the saliva pooling in his mouth. "Miles, I'm - "
"Fuck," Miles cuts him off with another curse as his hips stutter, and then there's the strange feeling of something spilling against his insides as Miles moans. Phoenix whines and squirms, because he's so close but Miles stops and Phoenix is going to kill him if he doesn't get to come in the next ten seconds —
Either Phoenix accidentally says some of that or Miles can just tell, because a hand wraps around his aching cock and strokes him one, two times before Phoenix tumbles over the edge. He keens, high and embarrassing, as his entire body shivers with orgasm. He vaguely registers the feeling of another hand stroking soothingly down the line of his back throughout the whole thing.
Eventually, Phoenix comes back down to earth and promptly slumps forward on the bed, way too tired to keep holding himself up in any way. He hisses as this ends up pulling Miles out of him faster than was probably recommended, but he can hardly care at the moment. Miles drops too, landing next to him and slinging an arm around Phoenix's waist as he presses his forehead against his shoulder. They lay there in silence, catching their breaths, and Phoenix's brain gradually comes back online - including the parts that are supposed to freak out about this.
And he does freak out, a little bit. His mid-fuck realization helps to temper things, but coming to terms with one's sexuality isn't exactly easy. Especially not in a situation as... unique as this. Obviously, he's not magically cured of his gay thoughts just from being fucked in the ass by Miles Edgeworth. The way he'd clung to that idea so tightly and desperately is mortifying in hindsight.
The "gay thoughts" only seem to ramp up, in fact: wanting to do that again. Wanting to try other things with Miles as well. Wanting to stay like this, right now, with Miles' arm around him and their bodies pressed together. Wanting to curl up together on their sofa to watch bad Steel Samurai dramas and maybe kiss during the parts that were "boring" bad rather than "viciously tear into it" bad.
He wants all that and more. With Miles. Which is still ridiculous, because Miles is Miles, but, well. Phoenix has always had a soft spot for slightly terrible things.
*
Miles hums to himself as he stirs the leftover pork and green beans in the pan to reheat them, still riding the high of what he’s reasonably sure was a successful fuck. He'd gotten Phoenix to come twice, after all, and Phoenix certainly seemed to enjoy nearly everything else outside of that, too. Sure, there were a couple stumbling blocks, but he’d like to think he did pretty well for his first time, if he may say so himself.
And now he’s also preparing food for Phoenix - the responsible thing to do! The boyfriend thing to do, maybe, if their much-needed conversation goes well. Miles isn’t particularly looking forward to talking Phoenix down from the ledge of compulsory heterosexuality he’ll probably work himself onto, but he’ll brave that storm willingly. Especially if it means getting to do that again.
His phone buzzes in his pocket as he’s dumping the food into two bowls. Miles’ brows quirks upwards in surprise when he checks it; apparently, Phoenix has woken up from his impromptu post-fuck nap.
WrightOnBro: Ur so-called “tried and true method” is ass btw. Tell ur friend he's probably gay.
Miles snorts, warm fondness curling in his chest. He doesn’t send a response, instead navigating over to the “delete account” option before slipping his phone back into his pocket and scooping up the bowls to take to his hopefully-boyfriend.
He’s gotten everything he needed out of that throwaway account, after all.