A Matter of Convenience

by forkflinger

Summary:

Miles Edgeworth has no romantic interest in Phoenix Wright. His libido disagrees, but he's not inclined to letting it call the shots. Still, he finds himself uncomfortably distracted, and he's got to do something about it. That "something" winds up being an arrangement with Detective Gumshoe. Purely physical, of course.

Chapter 1: Taking A Chance

Prosecutor Edgeworth had a problem.

He had a lot of problems, really. It was inevitable, given recent events. Between being accused of murder, the revelations that had shattered his world, and old wounds torn open, it was hard to identify which problem was the worst on any given day. The one plaguing him most persistently, however, had a name.

His problem was Phoenix Wright.

Phoenix Wright, who had appeared to ruin his career and his life. Phoenix Wright, whose insistence on truth and justice had torn apart his very foundations. Phoenix Wright, who had dug up and laid out all of his most deep seated traumas for public consumption and dissection.

Phoenix Wright, who chewed on his lip unconsciously. Phoenix Wright, whose cheap clothes grew transparent and clingy in the rain. Phoenix Wright, whose sparkling eyes haunted his dreams and his fantasies and his courtroom.

He couldn’t avoid the man. They wound up in court together, and there was nothing he could do about that. And court was when he most needed to focus, not stare at the defense council and wonder what he’d look like on his back. He had discipline, dammit, he had standards, but none of it kept him from getting lost in thoughts of Phoenix at inopportune times.

Edgeworth had never been an extremely sexual man. His adolescence had been spent under von Karma’s thumb, with very few opportunities for discovery or exploration, and his adult years had been dedicated single-mindedly to the law. There had been a few chance encounters, but never someone who’d stuck in his mind so firmly.

Determination didn’t help, and he was growing desperate. So finally, he resorted to the only solution he could think of. One evening, he went to a gay bar with the intention of finding a one-night stand. It was crass, but denying himself hadn’t helped. So instead, he would try a bit of indulgence and see if that scratched the itch.

Unfortunately, he had no idea how to go about it. His experience was limited. In theory, it should have been straightforward - identify a potential partner, approach, offer to buy their next drink, and take it from there. In practice, however, he was finding it difficult to reach step two. Or, for that matter, step one.

He wasn’t making himself terribly approachable, either. He was at the bar, and that was a start. He knew he was a handsome man, but without deliberate effort his expression slipped into a sour glare as he nursed a drink in the corner. He didn’t know how to make it apparent that he was interested in company, and couldn’t be too surprised that he was given a wide berth. But he persisted, and ordered a second drink, and eventually a third. The night wasn’t young anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit yet another failure.

It was halfway through his third and final drink (at least, that’s what he told himself) that someone finally caught his eye. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the kind of person he was hoping for. He hadn’t recognized him at first, because he wasn’t wearing his ubiquitous tattered coat, but Detective Gumshoe was leaning across the bar, placing an order. Edgeworth ducked his head, but it was too late - Gumshoe had turned and spotted him. And of course he waved, because he had no sense of decorum. And of course once he got his beer he made his way to Edgeworth’s side, because that was just how things were going lately. Edgeworth tried not to look blatantly disappointed. He probably didn’t succeed.

“Hey, Mr. Edgeworth!” said Gumshoe once he was close enough to be heard over the crowd. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Indeed,” Edgeworth answered, stifling a sigh. “What a coincidence.”

Gumshoe chuckled. “So, do you come here often?” he asked, grinning at his own lame pickup line.

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow. “No,” he answered. “And yourself?” he added, deflecting as quickly as he could. “Are you here with a friend?”

“Oh, uh.” Gumshoe’s grin faltered, and he scratched the back of his head. “No, just, um… just by myself. I guess I just wanted to get out, uh. Meet people.”

Ah. So, they were here for the same reason. In that case… Edgeworth leaned back, sipping his drink, and tried not to look like his eyes were flickering down Gumshoe’s body. Without the baggy coat hiding it, he had a decent figure. He’d cleaned up a bit, clean shaven and hair brushed back, and he showed some muscle under that thin white button-up shirt. And at the risk of being vulgar, Edgeworth couldn’t help but give a thought to proportions - big hands, big feet… This could work.

He’d have to be careful. Gumshoe absolutely couldn’t feel pressured, for the sake of both his career and their working relationship. Sleeping with a subordinate was risky at best, and if he wasn’t feeling quite so desperate he’d think better of it. The slightest hint of impropriety could ruin him, and if this was anything other than enthusiastically consensual it could be the end. More than that, however, he didn’t want to pressure him. Despite the occasional flub, he had developed a respect for the man, and would never use him like that. That was the sort of thing Manfred Von Karma would have done, and Edgeworth wouldn’t follow his example.

He had to be available, but not blatantly so. He had to wait for Gumshoe to notice, and for him to put it together, and ideally for him to make the first move. He would probably have to suggest something, to spark the idea, although he was sure that once Gumshoe realized it was an option he’d be interested. He just might require the same sort of guidance as when he was lagging behind on a case. He would need to be subtle, and careful, and cunning.

And while he was thinking all this, Gumshoe took a swig of his drink. “Not having much luck, but at least we’ve got each other, right?”

Edgeworth’s train of thought crashed. “Yes,” he said carefully, “I suppose we do.”

Gumshoe cleared his throat. “So, uh… would you maybe wanna… come back to my place for another drink?”

Edgeworth almost snorted into his drink. That easy? Really? “I would like that,” he said. “I’ve nearly finished my drink, anyway. How about you?”

He’d just watched Gumshoe get that bottle of beer, and it was nearly full. So when Gumshoe said, “Oh, yeah, pretty much,” he knew it was a lie. Which made it all the more impressive when Gumshoe proceeded to lift the bottle to his lips, tilt it back, and empty it in one long chug. “See?” he gasped, his face flushed. “All done. Ready to go?”

Edgeworth couldn’t keep a smirk off his face. “Yes,” he said, abandoning his own half-empty drink. He pulled out his wallet and counted out a few bills. “We can take my car,” he said, tucking the bills under his glass. It was enough to cover his own drinks and Gumshoe’s, as well as a very generous tip. He tapped the bills and made eye contact with the bartender, who looked between him and Gumshoe and nodded. Then he winked, and Edgeworth strongly considered rescinding the tip. He pulled away from the impertinent bartender to add, “Can you drive?”

“Sure,” answered Gumshoe, so Edgeworth nodded and led him out of the bar. They were mostly quiet on the way to the car and during the brief drive to Gumshoe’s apartment. Edgeworth didn’t want to say anything that might damage whatever this situation had become, and he imagined Gumshoe would be feeling the same way.

Gumshoe, it turned out, lived in a basement apartment as cramped and shabby as Edgeworth had always imagined. It was a single-room studio, with the bed pushed up against one wall and a couch and television against another. A flimsy folding screen separated the two. The furniture was worn, but surprisingly clean. Maybe the detective was more fastidious than he seemed - or maybe he’d wanted the place to look nice in anticipation of a visitor. The thought made Edgeworth smile, though he knew he shouldn’t find it funny; he’d set out with the exact same intentions. Although, his house was clean regardless.

Gumshoe busied himself in what passed for a kitchen while Edgeworth evaluated the space. “Would you, uh, like a beer?” he asked, opening his fridge. “Do you drink beer?”

He didn’t, generally, but some pretense seemed necessary. “Yes, thank you,” he said, sitting delicately on one end of the overstuffed couch. It was more comfortable than he’d anticipated, and he let himself sink into it. A moment later Gumshoe appeared and handed him a silver can of some brand too cheap for Edgeworth to even recognize. He sat down, next to Edgeworth but with a good few inches between them.

“So…” He popped the top on his beer, and Edgeworth followed suit. “I guess this is the first time you’ve ever seen my place, huh?”

Edgeworth sipped the beer. Dreadful stuff. Like stale water. “It’s nice,” he said, glancing around for something to back up the compliment. “This couch is very comfortable.”

“Oh, this? Ha, yeah. I’ve had this couch since college.” He twisted around and thumped an arm on the back. “Been through a lot, this couch. Fun times.”

Edgeworth was suddenly much less comfortable, and much more concerned about why the couch was this particular shade of dingy gray. However, he was distracted by the realization that Gumshoe’s arm was still stretched along the back of the couch. It had brought his body just a bit closer, and while it wasn’t exactly an arm around his shoulders, it was still an overt physical gesture. His heart started beating a bit faster, and he took another sip of the watery beer to calm himself. The point of no return was approaching faster than he’d expected, and he wasn’t sure if he was feeling fear or anticipation.

He leaned forward to set the mostly-full can on the table in front of them. Then he leaned back, just a little closer. It was his turn to say something. He went with, “Have you lived here long?”

“Uh, yeah. Since joining the force. I know it’s not much, but it’s good enough for me.”

“That’s good.” He glanced around again, but he really had seen everything here. “Nothing wrong with keeping things simple.”

Gumshoe chuckled. “Simple. Yeah. Sure.” He cleared his throat and took one more big swig of the beer. “I can keep things simple.” Gumshoe reached forward to drop the now-empty can on the table next to Edgeworth’s. Then he turned and kissed him.

Damn. It really was that easy.

He wished he’d known sooner.

Edgeworth closed his eyes as Gumshoe moved toward him. His lips were rough, but the kiss itself was gentle. One hand clasped his waist and the other braced against the back of the couch, holding their bodies apart. Edgeworth could still escape, still slip out from under Gumshoe and end this whole thing. Instead, he wrapped one arm around Gumshoe and pulled him closer.

It had been a long time since he’d been this close to another person; he’d forgotten how warm a body could be. He’d forgotten, too, how it felt to press his lips against another’s, how the mere contact could make his skin tingle and his breath hitch, how it made him want more. His reactions were instinctual, the desires of a body too often ignored that pressed against Gumshoe’s chest and moaned when a hand brushed against its skin. For a brief, wonderful time his mind stopped thinking and operated solely to process sensory input and seek more. Phoenix’s hand was slipping under his shirt now, and pulling him closer and working its way - no. Not Phoenix’s. That was Gumshoe’s hand, tracing his spine and sending him shivering. He wasn’t here with Phoenix. And Phoenix’s hands wouldn’t be so big and rough, and his moans wouldn’t be so low. But if he closed his eyes, he could be fooled for a few beautiful moments at a time.

It wasn’t fair, really, to Gumshoe - he shouldn’t be referring to a man he was minutes away from fucking by last name, but he could hardly call him Dick, could he? - to be thinking of another man. But it wasn’t Gumshoe who he craved, and most likely Gumshoe was thinking of someone else as well. He hadn’t ended up at that bar by accident. They weren’t in a relationship, so he had no obligation to Gumshoe. They were here for physical pleasure, nothing more. Simple.

So he closed his eyes, and he let himself think it was Phoenix kissing him harder and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, and it was Phoenix’s chest that his fingers stroked, pushing up the shirt to expose more, and it was Phoenix who pulled down his collar to kiss his neck in just the right spot to make him shiver. The illusion broke when Gumshoe finally succeeded in opening his shirt and pulled off his own, and Edgeworth couldn’t begin to pretend Phoenix would have looked anything like that under his clothes. In his fantasies, Phoenix was lean and trim, and hairless, and probably spent a lot more time in the gym than the real Phoenix. Gumshoe, on the other hand, was built like a lumberjack and looked like he spent his days moving boulders, with thick coarse hair spread across his massive pecs and trailing down his stomach. The sight made something in Edgeworth’s chest feel tight and hot, and he had the absolutely ridiculous urge to growl. But he wasn’t that far gone, not yet.

He swung a leg across Gumshoe’s lap and straddled him, pinning him against the couch. Already Gumshoe’s cock was straining against the fabric of his pants, and he ground down against it as he grabbed the back of Gumshoe’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was just enough friction to tease, and Gumshoe’s grip tightened on his waist, trying to get more. Edgeworth complied, almost. He rolled his hips in a rhythm just shy of fast enough, and he let his hands wander slowly, slowly, down Gumshoe’s chest. By the time they reached his waistband Gumshoe was practically whimpering, clutching at Edgeworth’s hips and trying to thrust up against them. When Edgeworth’d had enough of the teasing he undid Gumshoe’s belt and slipped his hand underneath.

He couldn’t get a good grip from this angle, but that wasn’t necessary. The mere touch of his hand made Gumshoe gasp and throw his head back, mouth agape. The gasp dragged into a moan as Edgeworth maneuvered until he could pull Gumshoe’s cock free of his underwear, hot and hard in his hand. He wrapped his fingers around it and pulled in long, smooth strokes, all the way from the base to the very tip. He couldn’t actually see it, but he could feel it, and once again his fantasies of Phoenix didn’t match up to the reality beneath him. There was no way Phoenix could be this thick. It had been a very, very long time since he’d had anything this large inside him, and the thought made his mouth water.

Edgeworth was about to drop to his knees when Gumshoe grabbed his wrist, holding it still. “Can we move to the bed?” he asked, his eyes wide. Well, Edgeworth certainly wasn’t going to refuse that offer. There was a lot more that could be done on a bed than on a couch - and he’d grown suspicious of the couch’s hygiene. So he nodded and slipped off Gumshoe’s lap. Gumshoe rose as well and caught him around the waist, pulling him into a kiss so gentle it was almost romantic. Edgeworth wondered who he was thinking of. After a moment, though, it deepened, and Gumshoe’s hands crept down to Edgeworth’s ass for some decidedly less gentle squeezing.

The bed was only a few steps from the couch, but before they made it there, Gumshoe fumbled Edgeworth’s pants open and yanked them down, underwear and all, in one swift motion. Edgeworth returned the favor, liberating the rest of Gumshoe’s anatomy while shedding the last of his own clothing. They both managed to be naked before they tumbled onto the bed. Gumshoe reached for the bedside table and yanked open a little drawer, producing a small bottle of lube and a box of condoms. He rose up on his knees to look down at Edgeworth as he said, “How do you wanna - “

“Fuck me,” answered Edgeworth, well past the point of euphemism. Gumshoe grinned and nodded. Then he dropped the condoms on the sheets and dove between Edgeworth’s legs. His mouth enveloped Edgeworth’s cock and Edgeworth cried out in pleasure and surprise as his lips made it all the way down to the base. Edgeworth threw his hand across his mouth to muffle himself while Gumshoe bobbed his head rapidly, taking him to the tip and back down again. His mouth was hot and wet, and his lips wrapped tightly around Edgeworth’s shaft, and there wasn’t much he could do but clutch the sheets with one hand and try to keep quiet with the other. His mind slipped again, and with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut it was easy to believe Phoenix was the one making him writhe. The thought was almost enough to set him off and he had to bite his thumb to keep it together.

He resisted - not yet, this wasn’t enough, not yet - and the shock of it dissipated, spreading like the warmth of sunshine through his body as he adapted to the rhythm. He was left panting, unable to do anything but lay there. It was more helpless than he generally cared to be but he was far from upset about it. It didn’t mean he was going to accept this situation for long, though; soon he would take his turn, flipping Phoenix over and climbing on top of him and -

The warmth around his cock disappeared, and the shock of cold air on wet flesh brought him back. Not Phoenix. He was fucking Gumshoe.

Oh god, he was fucking Gumshoe. Shit.

But it was way too late to worry about it now. And it was only a few seconds before a new sensation overwhelmed the thought, as he felt Gumshoe’s hand sliding under his ass. It was warm and slippery and Edgeworth realized why just as a finger slipped inside him and the only thought left was oh, fuck, yes.

The finger curled, ever so slightly, seeking - and it found it, the spot that made Edgeworth hiss between his teeth and arch his back off the bed. It eased off enough that Edgeworth collapsed, panting, then gasped as it pressed again. God, it was like fire inside him, his heart straining against his chest and his cock throbbing. And somehow Gumshoe knew exactly the right pressure, the right speed, to keep Edgeworth off balance. He couldn’t take it, and all he wanted was more.

He didn’t know how long this lasted. All he knew was that when he couldn’t bear to wait another moment he managed to twist his gasps into a stuttering, “S-stop.”

The finger withdrew, and he paused to catch his breath. Then he sat up to see Gumshoe, staring at him in a way that would have made him blush if he wasn’t already flushed from exertion. His eyes flickered down to the erection swinging between his legs and he swallowed hard. “Condom,” he muttered, unable to voice exactly what he wanted next. Gumshoe apparently understood, though, because he lunged for the box and started fumbling with it. Edgeworth left him to it, flipping over onto his stomach and up on his knees. He arranged the thin pillows in front of him to give him something to collapse onto, and possibly scream into, if it came to that. He was really hoping it would.

The weight shifted on the bed behind him, and two hands grabbed his hips. “Ready?” said Gumshoe, his voice rough.

Edgeworth’s voice trembled as he answered, “Yes.” He closed his eyes, bracing himself as hands spread him apart and something pushed against him. Then Gumshoe slid inside and Edgeworth’s mind went blank.

He moaned, deep and involuntary, as Gumshoe slowly pushed into him, inch by inch. With a groan Gumshoe reached the hilt and held there for a moment before pulling back again. He repeated the process in an agonizing rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through Edgeworth’s body, burying any conscious thought. He wasn’t thinking of Phoenix anymore; he wasn’t thinking at all. He was just a body, a bundle of sensory inputs, the sound of gentle grunts and mumbling and his own moans and the smell of sweat and a hand braced on his lower back and the heat of the room all floating in the constant, relentless rhythm building the heat inside him.

He knew the instant the rhythm changed that he couldn’t last. But he didn’t want to, he wanted - he wanted - he wanted - the slow gentle rhythm accelerated into a pounding, driving deeper and deeper into him, and he grasped desperately at the sheets for anything to hold on to as he gasped and threw his head back and at last, at glorious last, came with a strangled cry, spilling onto the sheets below. Seconds later he heard a similar sound from behind him as with one final thrust he felt the shudder of Gumshoe’s orgasm. There was a moment of calm, both basking in the warmth of afterglow, before Gumshoe pulled out and sat back, panting. Edgeworth toppled sideways, limbs gone too weak to hold him up. He watched from the corner of his eye as Gumshoe stood up and walked away for a moment, presumably to dispose of the condom, before wobbling back to the bed and falling into it.

They lay in silence for a few minutes while their heart rates normalized and their breathing calmed. Eventually, Gumshoe spoke. “Was that good?”

“Yes,” said Edgeworth. Actually, it had been amazing. Maybe it had just been so long that he’d forgotten how much better it felt than playing with himself, how completely a real cock inside him outclassed his own finger. It had definitely satisfied that craving that had distracted him for so long. But that wasn’t anything he was interested in sharing, so he kept the answer short.

Gumshoe grunted in response and rolled over. Edgeworth closed his eyes, feeling the aching exhaustion growing in his limbs. He wanted nothing more than to succumb to sleep while still floating blissfully in the afterglow - but he couldn’t do that here. Once he was confident that he could stand, it was time to leave.

He peeked over at Gumshoe. The man was sprawled across the bed, one arm dangling off the edge, eyes closed with a gentle smile on his face. Was he asleep already? Not impossible. Doing his best to avoid disturbing him, Edgeworth slipped off the bed and began reassembling his outfit. He managed to get fully dressed without any signs of movement from Gumshoe. Maybe he was asleep, or maybe he was just pretending to make this part less awkward. Either way, Edgeworth wasn’t about to question his luck. He crept out the door and eased it shut behind him, letting out a sigh of relief when he was safely outside. He could sleep when he got home.

Chapter 2: Repeat Visitor

Summary:

It was too much to hope he’d be totally satisfied after one night.

He wouldn’t have been surprised to come into work and find Gumshoe awkward. Instead, he was greeted with the same enthusiasm as always, a broad grin and a salute. Which went at least part of the way to explaining why he did it again.

He’d hoped that it would be out of his system entirely. He’d gone a long time without sex, after all. Maybe he’d be satisfied for another long stretch. Unfortunately, barely a week passed before he grew restless again. Inspired by his experience he finally took the embarrassing leap to purchase a dildo, and that proved to be well worth the money, but he still found his idle thoughts occupied by a certain defense attorney. The idea of going back to the bar was unappealing; his last trip had been successful largely by accident. However, he did have Gumshoe’s personal cell number.

It was inappropriate. Of course it was. Once was a chance encounter, a moment of passion, a seized opportunity. This would be premeditated, and it would establish a pattern. Best not to consider it. But as time passed, his desire started to overcome his logic. He could fuck himself so hard he could barely walk and come screaming Phoenix’s name and it still only kept him satisfied until the afterglow wore off.

But the odds of him ever getting with Phoenix would never improve, and Gumshoe had done a good job. Shockingly good, to be honest. Possibly the best he’d ever had. Even his new toy couldn’t compete, and while Phoenix’s face still ruled his fantasies, Gumshoe’s body featured frequently. The two really didn’t go together.

It was a Saturday when he finally caved in. He usually spent his days off working, but today he’d been utterly unable to focus. He’d woken from a steamy dream with a full erection, and taken care of that quickly enough - except that barely an hour later he was preoccupied again. By noon he’d come four times and was fighting off the urge for a fifth. It just didn’t seem healthy.

It took him nearly an hour to compose the text. He needed to be straightforward about his intentions, but he also needed to make it clear that it wasn’t a command or an order. And that this wasn’t about feelings - he wasn’t trying to start a relationship. He just needed physical release, and unfortunately Gumshoe happened to be his best option.

Eventually he typed the message into his phone.

“Do you have plans tonight? If not, would you care to come over for another drink?”

“Another drink” should make it clear enough that he was referring to a repeat session, not a social call. Hopefully. Sometimes he couldn’t be sure with Gumshoe.

The response came in just a few minutes.

“like when u came to my place? sounds good :) when?”

Edgeworth felt his face go red. He sent back a time that would give him long enough to run to the store. He needed beer for Gumshoe, as well as other necessities. He couldn’t remember the brand of beer, and he wasn’t sure how to calculate the size of his other provisions, so he came home with something probably a great deal nicer than anything Gumshoe ever drank and three different boxes of condoms. One was even “Ribbed for Her Pleasure.”

Gumshoe arrived with uncharacteristic punctuality. Maybe he was looking forward to this as much as Edgeworth? Again, he found himself wondering if Gumshoe had someone in particular on his mind that he needed a distraction from. But that wasn’t important, really. He guided Gumshoe to the couch with a beer in his hand and poured himself a glass of wine.

“You’ve got a real nice place,” Gumshoe said, looking around.

“You’ve been here before,” Edgeworth replied, settling into the other side of the couch. It was bigger than Gumshoe’s, so they were further apart. For now.

“Sure, but just the front hall, really.” He sipped his beer, still scanning the room. “Heck, even the front hall is bigger than my entire apartment!”

“I think this couch might be bigger than your entire apartment,” Edgeworth replied, rolling his eyes.

Gumshoe chuckled. “You might be right. Feels like you’re real far away over there!”

“Mmhmm.” Edgeworth shifted his position to scoot just a little closer. How was this game played, exactly? Last time he’d waited for Gumshoe to take the initiative. He could do that again, but there was a risk that he just wouldn’t go for it. Worst of all, perhaps he might have misunderstood the nature of this visit. Which would keep him from making a move, but also would make it disastrous if Edgeworth made an unwanted advance. Where was the line? This had been easier after several drinks.

Speaking of, Gumshoe’s was almost empty already. “Another?” Edgeworth asked, already standing to get it.

“Oh, thanks!” Gumshoe inspected his empty bottle as Edgeworth went to the fridge. “These are real good.”

“Are they? Good to know. I’m not much of one for beer.” Edgeworth returned with the open bottle and handed it directly to Gumshoe. For a brief moment their fingers touched, and they locked eyes. Ah. Well, at least he could be sure Gumshoe had understood after all.

Edgeworth seated himself again, closer this time. He swirled the wine in his glass thoughtfully before taking a sip - a gulp, to be honest. It wasn’t that good a wine anyway. Beside him, Gumshoe cleared his throat before taking a swig of beer. Edgeworth watched him from the corner of his eye and found himself fixating on Gumshoe’s neck, bent back to facilitate a deep drink. He could practically see the pulse under his skin, and the urge to press his mouth against it was growing. Was it time? Could he? How long, for propriety’s sake, did he have to pretend he’d invited Gumshoe here for any other reason? At least until they’d finished their drinks, he supposed.

He took another gulp of wine.

“Good stuff,” Gumshoe repeated, lifting the bottle again. “Seems like a shame not to finish it, y’know?”

Edgeworth placed his wine glass on the table. It was nearly empty, or close enough. “I have more,” he said. “You can always have another.”

Gumshoe nodded. “Guess so.”

That’s when Edgeworth finally gave in.

He didn’t go straight for the throat; first he stopped at the mouth, a deep kiss that tasted like barley. The taste of beer was much more tolerable on someone else’s lips. Then, after Gumshoe reacted by leaning into it, he pulled back and dove for the neck. He didn’t bite hard enough or suck long enough to leave any visible marks, but Gumshoe still moaned, wrapping an arm around Edgeworth to pull him in. Edgeworth’s hands were already roaming towards Gumshoe’s belt.

“You know,” he said as he undid the buckle, slipping off the couch, “you’re right. It would be a shame to leave that beer unfinished.” Edgeworth positioned himself between Gumshoe’s knees, pulling the fabric of his pants down just enough to expose his target. He smiled up at Gumshoe. “Maybe you should go ahead.”

Then he bent his head.

Gumshoe wasn’t hard yet, but that didn’t last long. With every stroke of Edgeworth’s tongue his cock twitched and swelled, stretching his jaw as wide as it could go. Gumshoe’s hand landed on the back of Edgeworth’s head, weaving through the long silver hairs, but didn’t press at all. Instead it just stroked gently, encouraging. The sounds coming from Gumshoe’s mouth were encouraging too, wonderful little whimpers. When Edgeworth glanced up, he saw Gumshoe attempting to drink his beer, so he flicked his tongue across the tip to shake him up. It worked, as Gumshoe flinched, and it thrilled Edgeworth for some reason.

It reminded him of some of his more adventurous fantasies, where he would hide under the defense attorney’s desk in the courtroom while a trial was in progress and suck Phoenix’s cock. He’d have to pretend nothing was happening, disguise his reactions while Edgeworth teased and tortured, trying to make him cry out, until Phoenix couldn’t resist any longer. Usually he’d come in Edgeworth’s mouth, but occasionally when Edgeworth was really pushing it, the fantasy Phoenix would pull him from his hiding place and fuck him, right there in the courtroom. Mortifying in retrospect, completely unbearable when he was clear-minded, but god, when he wanted it, he wanted it bad.

Obviously getting Gumshoe to choke on a beer would be a far cry from making Phoenix moan in court, but it sure was close enough for Edgeworth’s libido. He watched as Gumshoe lifted the bottle and timed a deep swallow right when he sipped. But there was little response except for a small moan that could very well have been a reaction to the beer. Edgeworth frowned, or as least, as close as he could get with a cock in his mouth. Gumshoe was clearly enjoying this; the evidence was swelling in Edgeworth’s mouth. But he stayed calm, taking another sip despite Edgeworth’s efforts.

Edgeworth had only intended to keep this up until he’d decided Gumshoe was hot and hard and desperate to fuck him. Then he’d take him to the bedroom and ride him as hard as he wanted. He hadn’t expected a challenge.

But he was ready for it.

He kept up a steady pace, his tongue tracing a trail along the underside of Gumshoe’s cock. The trick would be to catch him by surprise again. He couldn’t just go for it every time he took a drink. He needed to lure him into a sense of security, first - a slow build, then a sharp spike. The slow pace had the added benefit of letting himself work his way down - he was out of practice, and Gumshoe was far from small. Edgeworth pushed as far as he could, slowly taking more and more. His lips were still inches from the base when he reached his limit, and he groaned in frustration. His larger mission was looking successful, though - Gumshoe was still drinking, but there was the tiniest tremor in his hand when he lifted the bottle. Edgeworth pulled back, focusing on just the head. It was obvious what he was about to pull, but Gumshoe looked tense enough that it would likely work anyway. He waited, and when Gumshoe tilted the bottle back he struck, taking him as deep as he could in one stroke. Gumshoe coughed and jerked up, thrusting deep enough to make Edgeworth gag. Edgeworth sat back, hands on Gumshoe’s knees, watching with a smile as he thumped his chest.

“You okay?” Edgeworth asked, raising one eyebrow.

Gumshoe nodded, still red in the face. Then, moving faster than Edgeworth would have imagined, he grabbed Edgeworth by the shoulders and pulled him bodily up onto the couch, kissing him hard. Now Edgeworth was the one who couldn’t breathe. They both gasped for air, staring at each other.

Gumshoe started, “Can we - “

“Yes,” Edgeworth answered, standing. “Now.” He seized Gumshoe’s hand and dragged him to the bedroom. As soon as they crossed the threshold Gumshoe broke free and started stripping. Edgeworth practically ran to the nightstand, pulling the boxes of condoms out and tossing them on the bed.

Gumshoe came out of pulling his shirt over his head and stared at the boxes. “Wow,” he said. “You’re, uh, real prepared.”

“I didn’t know what size,” Edgeworth answered, now shedding his own clothes as quickly as possible. “Figure it out.”

Gumshoe took a break from removing his clothes to examine the boxes. He took much too long to read the boxes, although anything longer than a few seconds was too long for Edgeworth right now.

“I don’t know what you’re planning to use that for unless you get your pants off,” he snapped, already stepping out of his own.

Gumshoe blinked. “Oh! Right! Sorry.” He grabbed a box - not the ribbed ones, unfortunately - and ripped it open, pulling out a wrapped condom. Then, apparently just realizing the correct order of events, dropped that back on the bed and started fumbling with his belt. Edgeworth fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead used the time to sweep away the unused boxes and place a bottle of lube prominently on the nightstand.

“On the bed,” he commanded when Gumshoe finally made it out of his clothes. “On your back.”

“Yes, sir,” Gumshoe answered. He started to move, then hesitated. “Should I call you sir?”

“Get on the damn bed, Detective,” Edgeworth replied, in a tone that invited no argument. Gumshoe saluted, then flopped backwards onto the bed. He wiggled up into a comfortable position as Edgeworth tore open the condom. Edgeworth climbed into the bed, straddling his legs before rolling the condom onto that erection he’d worked so hard to cultivate. He followed it up with a liberal application of lube, then moved into position over it.

Gumshoe used one hand to guide himself in as Edgeworth sank onto him, moaning. He barely waited to catch his breath before starting to move, grinding himself hard in Gumshoe’s cock. Maybe he should have been more patient, maybe he should have been savoring this, making the most of it, but he just wanted to come. He wrapped his lube-slick hand around his own cock and pumped in rhythm with his own rapid gyrations. The man beneath him grunted, grabbing his hips, and Edgeworth closed his eyes and let his mind picture whatever it wanted. He could use a little imagination to pretend Phoenix could be this well-endowed. Maybe he’d teased enough to make him drag him to his office after the trial, and that’s who was squirming between his legs and thrusting up into him.

Phoenix was whimpering now, the fingers digging into his skin slick with sweat. “I - I can’t,” he stammered in a voice too deep to be Phoenix. “I can’t - i-if you keep doin’ that - “

“Do it,” Edgeworth hissed, unrelenting. His eyes were open now and he could see Gumshoe’s face contorted with effort. Edgeworth clenched around him, drawing a gasp, and fucked him harder. He watched the change on his face as his eyes squeezed tight and his mouth gasped for air. Then it all burst; his eyes flew open and he cried out wordlessly. Edgeworth felt him thrust against him frantically, the cock inside him throbbing and swelling as it finally released its seed. The sensation was exactly what he’d been craving; seconds later his own world went white as he came with a muttered curse, spilling onto Gumshoe’s stomach. Sighing, he toppled over into his soft blankets, rolling onto his side with a smile on his face. Gumshoe’s arms were flung wide across the bed, and he found himself nuzzling against one. It wasn’t unpleasant.

Eventually Gumshoe spoke. “Fuck.”

Edgeworth snorted.

Gumshoe’s head dropped sideways, a dreamy look and a goofy grin on his face. “You’re really good at this.”

“I do my best,” Edgeworth replied. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he added, placing a hand on Gumshoe’s side.

Gumshoe closed his eyes, still smiling. “Thanks.” Then with a groan he lifted himself off the bed, strong arms heaving the mass of his upper body. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Edgeworth pointed at a door. Gumshoe nodded and stumbled away while Edgeworth rolled onto his back. God, he felt good. He felt amazing. So much better than all those lonely little sessions with the toy. Those were good, sure, but they were just snacks to tide him over until it was time for dinner. And Gumshoe was the steak.

He giggled at himself, throwing an arm across his forehead. He really must have been losing it. Hopefully this whole thing was a phase he’d soon be out of. Eventually he’d stop thinking about Phoenix, and then he could be satisfied by himself again. He wouldn’t need to invite Gumshoe over for any more drinks.

He already knew it would happen again, though.

There was the sound of running water. Moments later Gumshoe returned, sitting on the edge of the bed. Edgeworth briefly worried that he’d climb back in, but instead he reached for his pants and started pulling them on.

“Um,” he said as he fiddled with his belt. Edgeworth propped himself up on one elbow. “So. Are you gonna be inviting me over for drinks on a regular basis?”

Edgeworth laughed. “Maybe not regular,” he answered, watching Gumshoe fumble with his clothes. “But yes, I’d expect it to happen again. If you’d like, of course.”

“Oh, absolutely, sir.” Gumshoe nodded so quickly Edgeworth wondered if it hurt his neck. “I mean, wow. You’re, uh. You got some amazing beer.”

“I’ll keep it stocked for you, then.”

“Thanks.” He finished doing up his shirt and put a cursory effort into smoothing his hair. “I’d better get goin’,” he said. He paused, opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and just said, “G’night.”

Edgeworth fell back into his pillows as Gumshoe left. That little exchange had established the situation well enough. Whatever it was. Coworkers with benefits or something dreadful like that. Physically speaking, Gumshoe was a little doughier than the men who usually caught Edgeworth’s eye. But he was fit, and strong, and certainly well endowed. More importantly, he was willing - enthusiastic, even. And Edgeworth could trust him to be discreet, and not take liberties, and not steal his TV on the way out the door. All in all, not a bad choice for a repeat visitor.

Edgeworth slid between the sheets, sighing as the weight of the feather-filled duvet pressed down on him. His head sank into the soft pillows as he closed his eyes, letting his weariness overtake him. Probably he should go wash up, brush his teeth, make sure all the lights were off and the door was locked - all the little important pieces of his nightly routine. But for once, he was too comfortable to force himself out of bed, and he decided to indulge in it. He lay there, a faint smile on his lips until he drifted into a sleep not plagued by dreams of Phoenix Wright.

Chapter 3: Take It Slow

Summary:

When Gumshoe’s in charge, things go a little more slowly.

Once again, Gumshoe showed no sign of their interaction at work. Maybe he was a bit peppier, a bit more energetic - but then, so was Edgeworth. A little physical release was all it took to improve his mood and sharpen his focus. He won his next case easily, and came up with a plausible explanation for a cold case that was under investigation. He could easily see the benefits of a regular physical relationship, although he certainly wasn’t planning to commit to a schedule with Gumshoe. He could wait between visits.

It was just a week later when Edgeworth received an evening text.

“Can I invite you over for a drink too?”

Edgeworth smiled at the phone. Apparently Gumshoe didn’t want to wait. “That only seems fair, doesn’t it?” he responded.

“Does that mean yes”

He sighed. “Yes. I’ll come over.”

To be honest, he didn’t really want to go to Gumshoe’s tiny apartment. He’d much rather stay here, in his clean, safe, tastefully decorated mansion. But if he demanded Gumshoe visit him instead, it would be establishing a power dynamic he wanted to avoid. At work he was in charge, and Gumshoe would do as he said; in this, they were equals. Or at least, supposed to be.

He arrived at Gumshoe’s shortly after, and Gumshoe answered the door immediately. His hair was slicked back and still damp from a shower, and his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to be tantalizing. Edgeworth cocked an eyebrow. It wasn’t a bad look, although the effect was rather spoiled by the nervous look on his face.

“Er, g-good evening, Mr. Edgeworth,” he said, stepping aside to let Edgeworth in. The apartment was just like it had been on his previous visit, with the exception of a gentle scent of vanilla. Edgeworth identified the source as a candle burning on the kitchen counter. Romantic.

“Good evening,” he responded. Instead of taking his spot on the couch he walked into the kitchenette, examining the candle. Gumshoe rummaged through a cabinet.

“I, uh, got some wine,” he said, and Edgeworth turned to see him holding a bottle of white wine. “I don’t really know much about wine, but it had a pretty flower on it.”

Edgeworth didn’t bother looking closely at the wine. It was from a recent year, and it didn’t really matter what kind it was because on Gumshoe’s budget it probably tasted like vinegar. But it did have a pretty flower on the label, and he was a little impressed at the effort. “That will do,” he said, leaning against the counter.

Gumshoe set down the bottle and opened a cabinet, then froze. Slowly he turned to look at Edgeworth, guilt clouding his forehead.

Edgeworth waited for a moment, arms crossed, before speaking. “It doesn’t have to be a wine glass.”

Gumshoe nodded, his face brightening. He pulled a coffee mug down and Edgeworth winced. Fortunately he produced an actual glass, putting the mug away. It was probably for the best that the wine was too cheap for a proper cork, because evidence would suggest Gumshoe might not own a corkscrew. But it was a screw top, and in a moment Gumshoe was handing him a juice glass full of lukewarm cheap Chardonnay. At least he’d tried.

Edgeworth sipped at the wine, trying to keep his face neutral as his fears about its taste were confirmed. Still, even bad wine was preferable to the beer that Gumshoe was currently cracking open for himself. “So,” Gumshoe said.

“So,” Edgeworth agreed. Did they have to do this every time? Small talk wasn’t his favorite under normal circumstances, and he wouldn’t call this normal. On the other hand it would have been awkward to walk in and just immediately start disrobing. He was less desperate now, and felt less of an urge to just jump him; a bit of mood-setting was in order.

That did, however, leave him with the dilemma of what the hell he could talk to Gumshoe about. Work was out of the question in this context. Which left what, exactly? The weather? Thrilling.

The silence stretched out so long that Edgeworth was preparing to say something about the wine when Gumshoe spoke instead. “Have you been watching that new singing show?”

“I don’t watch a lot of television,” Edgeworth answered. In the interest of continuing the conversation, he said, “What’s it about?”

Gumshoe launched into a description of some singing contest with elaborate costumes and secret celebrities. Edgeworth listened, nodding attentively. It gave him plenty of time to drink his wine, and a minimum of prodding encouraged Gumshoe to keep talking. That was one of his talents, anyway - chattering on about nothing. Never something Edgeworth had mastered, but it was hard to get Gumshoe to shut up sometimes. Still, there were worse ways for him to spend his time than listening to the detective talk.

“It sounds interesting,” he said as the passionate explanation drew to a close. “Perhaps I’ll try and catch the next episode.”

“I bet you’d figure ‘em all out right away.”

“Not necessarily. My knowledge of pop culture figures is limited.”

“But you’re so smart!” Gumshoe moved closer, leaning one arm against the counter. “You’d get ‘em, no question.”

“And can’t you figure it out?” Edgeworth asked with an amused smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be a detective?”

“Ah, well…” Gumshoe grinned sheepishly. “Like you said, you gotta know a lot of celebrities.” He leaned in, his grin taking on a sly angle. “And sometimes I get distracted by more important things.”

Edgeworth snorted, then set down his glass and turned to catch the kiss Gumshoe planted on him. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as one of Gumshoe’s hands circled his waist, resting on his lower back. The kiss was slow and deep, almost tender, and Edgeworth arched his back under it. He draped one hand over Gumshoe’s shoulder and let him lead. It seemed only fair; he was the one who’d called for this little visit. Their previous encounters had been rather quick, but he was certainly willing to slow down a bit. Especially now that he wasn’t feeling quite as desperate.

Besides, this was nice too, the way Gumshoe cupped the back of his head and held him close, but not tight. It was, to be honest, a novel experience; none of his previous encounters had been nearly as tender. He’d fucked; he’d never made love. Gumshoe seemed to be leaning towards the latter tonight.

Edgeworth couldn’t help but wonder. This kind of treatment leaned towards the romantic. Who did Gumshoe wish was in his arms? Whose neck did he want to be kissing? Whose skin did he want shivering under his fingertips? He’d seen him getting friendly with Officer Byrd, but wouldn’t he have gone for a woman if that were the case? He tried to think of any men he’d seen Gumshoe with at work but came up short. Maybe he didn’t know the man as well as he thought after all.

Then Gumshoe nibbled his earlobe and Edgeworth’s mind ground to a halt. His knees buckled; he grabbed the counter for support. Gumshoe held him up, chuckling.

“You like that?” he whispered.

“Nngh…” It would have been mortifying to admit. But Edgeworth’s body betrayed him, and he gasped when Gumshoe did it again, lips gently squeezing and the feather-light sensation of his flickering tongue coursing through him like liquid magma. He hadn’t even known such a feeling existed and here he was melting under the caress of Phoenix Wright.

Detective Gumshoe.

It didn’t make sense for it to be Gumshoe. The large hand on his back, yes, and the deep rumble of his voice, but only Phoenix could have drawn out his weakness with such delicacy. Only Phoenix could have rendered him so helpless in a matter of seconds.

So it was Phoenix who kissed him now, and it was Phoenix who pulled him from the kitchenette and guided him to the bed, and it was Phoenix who laid him down and slipped his hands between the layers of his clothes, seeking all the buttons and fastenings to undo. Edgeworth sighed softly as Phoenix bent down to kiss him again, one hand slowly working apart the buttons on his shirt. His kisses drifted lower, to the milky skin of his collarbone, to the smooth expanse of his chest. Inch by inch, Edgeworth was revealed. So strange, after all he’d been through, to think that being exposed could feel so pleasant.

The illusion broke when Gumshoe’s stubbly chin brushed against a delicate patch of skin, but it was a surprisingly nice sensation. He didn’t mind at all as Gumshoe made his way down, his fingers leading the way to unfasten his pants and tug them down off his hips. His underwear stayed, though, black silk briefs that he might have changed into just for the occasion, though he wouldn’t admit it. It seemed he’d made a good choice because Gumshoe paused, and his fingertips stroked the smooth fabric where it clung to Edgeworth’s hips. There was a sound from his throat and Edgeworth smiled, and shifted, and the fabric slid across the bulge of his erection and there was another little sound, like a moan that he was trying not to let out.

Gumshoe’s hands left him then, turning to their duty of removing Gumshoe’s clothes, but his mouth dipped in to fill the void. He pressed it against Edgeworth’s hip, where the bone was almost visible through the delicate skin, forming a little divot of flesh. Turned out that little divot was wonderfully sensitive, and Edgeworth gasped at the shiver it sent through him. Gumshoe persisted, and now Edgeworth was the one trying to keep quiet and squirming under Gumshoe’s lips.

Eventually Gumshoe withdrew, and Edgeworth was left panting. He glanced down to see that Gumshoe had succeeded at removing his clothes, broad chest bare. He could practically see the muscles at work under the skin as Gumshoe positioned himself over Edgeworth, solid arms holding him up. It didn’t fit his vision of Phoenix, not at all, but Edgeworth couldn’t tear his eyes away as Gumshoe slowly lowered himself, one hand bearing all his weight as the other toyed with the waistband of Edgeworth’s briefs.

Edgeworth sighed in relief when Gumshoe’s lips finally touched his cock. He was already so hard, so close, just from those teasing little caresses. In the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t let go yet, that they’d barely started, but his body muffled the thinking parts of his mind in favor of want. Gumshoe’s mouth drew tight around him, and his lips slipped down his shaft, and just a little faster - just a little more -

He didn’t get more. What he got was Gumshoe working at a slow, steady pace, moving with a sort of calm determination. He never got quite fast enough to push him over the edge, and Edgeworth found himself clenching his jaw and clutching at the sheets. Not yet, he told himself, not yet - but Gumshoe’s tongue flicked across a sensitive spot and all he wanted was more, more, now now now.

He couldn’t know how long this lasted. Gumshoe was good at this. He could bring Edgeworth to the very peak and somehow knew exactly when to stop to keep him from cresting it. The physical sensations were having a dizzying impact in his head, as well; spells of lucidity broke into moments of desperation and left him dazed.

This was new. In previous encounters, sex had been a means to an end, the series of physical motions that led to orgasm. Enjoyable, sure, but there was a clear goal to reach. This, though, this was pleasurable in and of itself. Despite the swells of sensation he didn’t feel the need to rush, to push past this and get to the good stuff. This was the good stuff, in a way he’d never felt.

He usually wasn’t this passive, either. He wouldn’t have said he was demanding, exactly, but he knew what he wanted and rarely compromised. It was out of the ordinary for him to give up control, and he couldn’t have said why he was doing it now, but he certainly didn’t regret it. His mind was pushed further and further back, like he was drifting on ocean waves, and he made no attempt to swim back to shore. Dimly, he was aware that his mouth was open and sounds were coming out; his back was arched off the mattress and his fingers were digging into the sheets. He closed his eyes. It was easier to ride the waves when he didn’t try to fight it, to cling to control or make that final leap. Instead he just lay back and let Phoenix do as he pleased. Or Gumshoe. It didn’t really matter at this point.

There was a lull, long enough for him to catch his breath, heart pounding. He registered movement, a shifting of weight, a change in pressure. Gumshoe’s mouth was still around him, but not as active. It took him almost too long to figure it out, but it clicked just in time for him to open his mouth and let himself moan as Gumshoe slid a finger inside him.

That finger gave Gumshoe even finer control, and Edgeworth rocketed back to the edge so fast he was sure he would - but the pressure eased just enough and he was left dangling breathlessly. Gumshoe’s instinct for how far he could push was amazing. It would have been so easy to overshoot and spoil the whole thing, but he knew when to slow down. Later, Edgeworth would wonder why the man couldn’t show this much care and precision in his policework. For now, all he could do was whimper.

Edgeworth was sure his body had reached its limit, until Gumshoe slid another finger in to join the first. Edgeworth hissed between his teeth as he felt himself stretch, almost painful, but the movement of the two fingers quickly overcame it. His legs twitched as Gumshoe stroked him, his mouth still firmly around his cock, bringing him again to the edge and this time keeping him there for - for - it might have been less than a minute but it felt like hours. Edgeworth couldn’t take it anymore. He squirmed, trying to force himself down into Gumshoe’s fingers or deeper into his mouth or something, anything, he was so close -

The fingers withdrew, the mouth disappeared, and Edgeworth could have cried. He sat up, just enough to look down, to see what the hell Gumshoe thought he was doing. How dare he leave him like this. He would not stand for it. He would not be treated this way, teased and tormented and toyed with. He took a deep breath, ready to tell Gumshoe off, when Gumshoe reentered his field of view, a condom in one hand and his massive erection in the other.

Holy hell, had it been that big last time?

Gumshoe grinned at him and Edgeworth let his head fall back to the pillows, fuming. Leave it to him to focus on a flaw in fantastic no-strings sex. Hadn’t he been feeling amazing, better than ever before, just seconds ago? But the instant it stopped he’d returned to his usual bullshit, critical and pessimistic. Couldn’t he be happy for once? Just enjoy himself? No, of course he had to ruin this, he had to -

Gumshoe’s hands were on his knees, easing them apart. Edgeworth’s body, electing to ignore whatever his brain was up to, reacted by tilting his hips and angling them just so. Suddenly Gumshoe was over him, occupying his whole field of vision, grinning down at him, brown eyes twinkling. Edgeworth couldn’t help but look into those eyes. They were so warm, as if illuminated from behind by morning sunlight. Enchanted, Edgeworth had no hesitation when Gumshoe leaned down to kiss him, lips soft and sweet. Edgeworth kissed him back deeply, suddenly desperate to taste him, craving something he couldn’t define. He grabbed the back of his head to pull him closer, kissing him like he could taste that sunlight.

Gumshoe was the one to finally pull back, gasping, and for half a second Edgeworth was confused. Why would he stop that wonderful, amazing kiss? What could possibly be better? Something hard pressed against the inside of his thigh, reminding him quite clearly. Of course.

Edgeworth let his head loll back, forcing himself to take deep breaths. Gumshoe was still there but his attention was elsewhere. One hand braced against the headboard; the other was out of sight, guiding himself. Edgeworth had to struggle not to hold his breath, eyes shut tight as he felt the pressure of Gumshoe. Then they gasped in unison as he slid inside, almost as much of a relief as the actual orgasm. Gumshoe let out a shuddering breath, placing his other hand on the mattress by Edgeworth’s shoulder. He waited for the space of a heartbeat, two, three.

Then he started.

He went slowly - Edgeworth couldn’t possibly have expected anything else - easing into him with agonizing care. Inch by inch he moved, and even the tiniest movements made Edgeworth twitch and moan. He couldn’t stop either now, even if he tried. His body had been pushed to its limit again and again and again. It was exhausted and exhilarated, completely worn out and desperate for more.

His eyes were closed, so when the man on top of him came down for a kiss it was a welcome surprise and in that moment it was Phoenix, Phoenix was here, moaning against his lips and moving inside him tantalizingly slow. Phoenix wasn’t exactly known for his patience, so it was astounding how he paced himself. Edgeworth could feel the muscles under the skin, tense and straining as they held up his bulk, and when their kiss broke apart he was panting.

He clung to the image, hoping it was enough to give him that last little boost, because he couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed his hips up, wrapped his arms tight around the man on top of him, and pulled himself so close he could feel his breath on his neck. Edgeworth never begged, but he’d also never wanted so badly before, never been reduced to such desperation; he barely gathered himself enough to whisper, “P-please…”

There was a grunt, and a shift, and a change in speed. Like the burst of sunlight over the horizon at dawn, Edgeworth’s orgasm spilled over him, every muscle in his body tensing and releasing at once, every inch of him flooding with sensation. He was left gasping for air, not quite sure where he was or who he was with, reduced to a primal mind screaming in pleasure. The man above him groaned and shuddered and another sensation was added, a deep final thrust that shot through him and drew one last cry from his lips.

The man dropped down onto his elbows, holding just above Edgeworth, their heaving chests together. He closed the distance for a deep, frantic kiss, and Edgeworth already could barely breathe but kissed back, willing to drown in him for just a little more. Air couldn’t be as sweet as his lips.

Their bodies disagreed, and after a moment the man - Gumshoe, right, that was Gumshoe - broke away and slid to the side, leaving Edgeworth empty and gasping and deliciously exhausted. He closed his eyes, resting a hand on his chest to feel it rise and fall and the pounding of his heart. So that was why someone would take their time. That was, unquestionably, the best sex he’d ever had.

And it was with Gumshoe.

The concept still made him laugh, but he managed to restrain himself to a satisfied smirk. To think, all this time the man’s considerable talents had been going to waste. If only they could use them at work somehow.

Before he could start speculating on that subject, he forced himself to sit up. Oh, he was going to be sore tomorrow. He turned to look at Gumshoe, who was lying there with a dopey look of contentment on his face.

“Hi, cutie,” he mumbled, and Edgeworth once again had to stifle a laugh. What an absurd thing to say. Honestly, looking up at him with that sleepy expression, Gumshoe looked… sweet. Warm. Soft. Edgeworth could sink into that expression.

That incongruous thought jolted him out of his post-coital stupor, and before he could slip back into it he swung his legs off the edge of the bed. Last time, Gumshoe had been asleep when he left; now, he was watching as Edgeworth fished up his wrinkled clothes and started putting them back on. He should say something. That was amazing? Thanks for the sex? Have a good weekend, see you at work?

He cleared his throat.

“White wine is usually served chilled.”

Gumshoe nodded, still smiling. “Got it.”

“Good.” Edgeworth finished the buttons on his shirt and stood, throwing his suit jacket over his arm. “Have a good night,” he said, feeling foolish.

“Drive safe,” Gumshoe answered, waving as Edgeworth headed for the door.

The air outside was comfortably cool as Edgeworth stopped to take a deep breath. Part of him wanted to go back in, get in the bed, and go to sleep with Gumshoe’s arms around him, safe and warm. That was, he suspected, the part that had so thoroughly enjoyed his first long love-making session. He needed to come up with something else to call it. There wasn’t love here. Trust, familiarity, maybe a little fondness, but not love. But he also couldn’t bring himself to refer to what had just happened with a word as abrupt as “fucking.”

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. He could debate semantics with himself as long as he pleased when he was back in his own bed. But for now, he needed to get home before he passed out behind the wheel.

Or, worse, gave in and went back to Gumshoe’s bed.

Chapter 4: Rainy Day

Summary:

Phoenix Wright is utterly clueless.

Their visits never quite settled into a pattern. Edgeworth knew better than that. A pattern was a commitment, and there was no commitment here. Just a bit of fun, a convenient source of stress relief, an effective distraction from inconvenient feelings.

For example, the feelings that popped up one rainy Friday afternoon.

Wright was out on a case, which was fine by Edgeworth. It meant he’d probably be uninterrupted for once. Maybe he could actually get some work done; he had a backlog of paperwork from what had been a busy week.

Things never seemed to go as planned when Wright was involved. Edgeworth was having a perfectly nice time; dealing with the mundanity of bureaucracy was a relaxing change from having to actually use his brain. So relaxing, in fact, that he barely reacted when his office door flew open.

“Edgeworth! I need your help!”

Edgeworth peered over the frames of his glasses at Wright. He was wearing his usual cheap blue suit, but he was soaked through to the bone. The thin shirt fabric clung to his skin, nearly transparent, and the jacket hung at an angle that revealed a tantalizing curve of hip.

Edgeworth took a good look.

“I got stuck in the rain, and my umbrella broke, and somebody locked the side entrance so I had to run around the whole building and now - !” He gestured demonstratively at his soaked ensemble. “I have to see the judge about an extension in ten minutes and I can’t go like this!”

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow, still taking in the sight. “And how am I supposed to help you?”

“You gotta have a spare shirt or something!”

He did, actually; he had a few, tucked in a drawer, and extra jackets as well. Not his favorites, just for emergencies, nothing too extravagant. “I fail to see how this problem involves me,” he said anyway.

Wright’s face fell into the exasperated glare Edgeworth had become so fond of. “Come on, gimme a break.”

Edgeworth laid down his paperwork with an exaggerated sigh. “I may have something,” he said, rising from his seat. “But I can’t guarantee it’ll fit.”

“Anything’s better than this,” Wright answered. Edgeworth went to the small cabinet by the door, where he kept a few sundries. He picked out the cheapest shirt there, which probably still cost more than Wright’s entire outfit, because it was untailored and thus least-likely to look ridiculous. He took a moment longer to consider jackets; he had a choice between one of his, in tailored maroon, and a black one he kept on hand for Gumshoe that would hang off Wright’s frame like a kid playing dress up. Either would look terrible with blue pants. He draped the maroon jacket over his arm anyway and turned, holding the shirt.

“I can at least offer you - “

He wasn’t going to react. He hadn’t spent years of his adolescence under the control of a strict German household to do something as crass as reacting to the sight of Phoenix Wright slipping out of his shirt, half-naked, in his office. As Edgeworth watched Wright finished undoing the last couple buttons on his shirt and pulled it open, revealing his chest, no undershirt. It wasn’t exactly a six-pack but that didn’t mean Edgeworth’s mouth didn’t go dry at the sight of it, light highlighting the curves of milky white skin, still glistening from the rain. Wright turned, in the process of shrugging off his shirt, and Edgeworth could see the muscles of his shoulders and the gentle curve of his spine and he was not going to react.

Wright smiled, and for a flash Edgeworth was actually angry. How dare he show up here, out of the blue, and just - just strip? And now Edgeworth was the one feeling embarrassed and awkward in his own office, because Wright didn’t have the self-awareness to stop him from standing there, bare to the waist, all smooth skin and delicious angles, and smile? It was downright rude.

God, he really needed to get rid of this crush.

Edgeworth held out the shirt and Wright accepted. “Thanks,” he said as he pulled it on. “Oh, that’s a relief. I hate wet clothes.”

“As far as a jacket,” Edgeworth said smoothly, “it’s this or one of Gumshoe’s.”

“You have spare clothes for Gumshoe?” Wright asked, leaving the shirt half-buttoned to reach for the jacket.

“For emergencies. Don’t think I’m planning on keeping anything in stock for you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Wright held up the maroon jacket, frowning at it. “Everyone’s going to know this is yours.”

“Would you prefer Gumshoe’s? It’s probably only four or five sizes too big.”

Wright shook his head. “You know, I think I’ll just pass,” he said, handing the jacket back. “I mean, a jacket can be wet, right? It’s a jacket!”

Edgeworth nodded, replacing the jacket in his cabinet. He picked up a wooden hairbrush instead, and was relieved when he turned around to find Wright had decided to stop swanning around like a swimsuit model and finish buttoning up his shirt. “Congratulations,” he said, handing over the hairbrush. “Now you simply look like a soggy rat, not a drowned one.”

“Hey, it’s an improvement.” Wright brushed his hair back, watching his reflection in the window. Then he grinned and picked up his jacket. “Thanks, Edgeworth,” he said. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t bother cleaning it before you return it,” Edgeworth said. “I don’t want to see it ruined.”

Wright laughed, showing off that stupid bright smile of his. “Wish me luck!” he said, clapping Edgeworth on the shoulder. He must not have noticed how much Edgeworth stiffened at the contact because he swept out the door, jacket slung over his shoulder.

Edgeworth stayed there for a moment, frozen. After a moment he shook himself out of it, but the images wouldn’t go away. Wright’s discarded shirt was in a wet heap on his office floor, and he picked it up to hang it from a coat hook. He couldn’t stop thinking about it - Wright, shirtless, wet, smiling, stripping, posing, getting closer, reaching for him - and the thoughts quickly left mere recollection behind for more involved fantasies. The simple work he’d enjoyed as a relaxing break was now too easy to keep his mind occupied, and he found himself getting lost when his mind strayed.

There was only one solution, wasn’t there?

He picked up his phone and messaged Gumshoe.

“Drinks tonight?”

 

They spent a languid evening at Edgeworth’s, where Edgeworth was able to fully satisfy all his unreasonable distractions. After, Gumshoe was seated on the edge of the bed, buttoning up his shirt, while Edgeworth lay on his back and watched with quiet contentment.

“I don’t think I could ever have expected this to turn out so well,” he mused, eyes lazily following the outlines of Gumshoe’s back muscles.

“Heh, yeah.” Gumshoe’s attention was on his clothes. “I never thought we’d be doin’ something like this.” He paused, just for a second. “You’re thinkin’ of Mr. Wright, right?”

Edgeworth stiffened, then let out a slow breath. “Is it really that obvious?” he muttered.

Gumshoe shrugged. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. And you always call me after you face him in court.”

“I guess that’s what I get for fucking a detective,” Edgeworth rolled over, resting his chin on his crossed arms. “But now I have to ask, because I’ve seen the way you look - who are you thinking of?”

“You,” said Gumshoe.

Edgeworth snorted. “Don’t be smooth with me!”

Gumshoe laughed. “What can I say? I’m a romantic.”

Edgeworth shook his head and playfully shoved Gumshoe off the bed. “Get out of my house.”

“Yes, sir.” Gumshoe twisted around and bent down to kiss Edgeworth, tenderly. Then he stood and nodded in his way out. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Edgeworth answered, flopping onto his back. It really wasn’t any business of his who Gumshoe was interested in - a strange thought, considering their arrangement. But it was the truth, and he was content not knowing. Eventually one of them would move on and this would end. For now, he was savoring the novelty of not over thinking and just… enjoying. It had been a long time since he’d done something like that.

He giggled.

It’d be funny if Gumshoe also was thinking of Phoenix.

 

The next time he visited Gumshoe’s, the wine was chilled.

Chapter 5: Abusing the Metaphor

Summary:

Gumshoe has a helpful idea!

This case was driving him mad. There were too damn many holes in the evidence, too many gaps in the prosecution’s theories, too much left unexplained. Even so, he likely still could win if not for the constantly unpredictable factor of Phoenix Wright. He could hardly begrudge the man for doing his best for his clients, of course. And since Edgeworth’s… incident, he’d learned to prioritize truth over victory, and Phoenix continued to be the greatest partner he could want for it. If only he could resist the urge to drag him into his office and have his way with him.

Edgeworth was in that office now, reviewing the case. Even against Phoenix, there was still a part of him that wanted to win for the sake of winning. If he couldn’t fill the holes in his case he could at least identify them before Phoenix did.

And then Phoenix could fill his -

He growled and shook his head. Vulgar. Crude. Distracting. Fuck.

There was a knock on the door and Edgeworth’s head jerked up. He took a moment to compose himself before calling, “Enter.”

It was a relief to see Gumshoe come through the door - anyone else would have been an unexpected development, and he really didn’t need any of those at this point.

“Good morning, sir!” Gumshoe said, saluting.

“Good morning, Detective,” Edgeworth replied, half-turning his attention back to the files on his desk. “What brings you to my office this morning?”

“Well, I, uh…” Gumshoe was fidgeting, hands in his pockets. “I had an idea to help out, sir.”

“Something about the case?” It was rare for Gumshoe to come up with some crucial insight, but it happened from time to time. Well, it happened once.

It didn’t look like it was happening now, though, based on the way he looked down. “Not exactly,” he said. “Um, more of an idea about the trial?”

Edgeworth sat back. “Well?” he prompted after a moment.

“Okay, well, the thing is, um… you’re facing Mr. Wright today, and… I was wondering if you’d like a drink?”

Edgeworth blinked, not quite sure if he understood. “A drink?”

“Yeah, before the trial. Just a quick one. That way you won’t get distracted by, uh… being thirsty. I mean I don’t need a drink, so I could just give… uh…” He scrunched up his eyebrows. “I could pour you a drink?”

“I think we’re abusing the metaphor a bit,” Edgeworth answered, leaning his elbows on his desk and lifting his eyebrows. It was an intriguing offer, and not one he was quick to decline. Perhaps it would help him to focus. “And where exactly were you picturing this drink? Here, in my office? Hardly seems appropriate.”

“In that fancy chair,” Gumshoe mumbled. Then he froze, like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “Sorry, sir,” he said, taking a step back. “Dumb idea. Forget I said anything. You’re right, sir, I - I - “

“Lock the door.”

Gumshoe froze again, eyes wide, as he processed the order and its implications. Edgeworth sat back and waited while he backed up to the door and pushed the lock firmly into place. He even tugged at the knob to test it. Then he crossed the room, leaned across Edgeworth’s desk, grabbed him by the lapels, and pulled him across to kiss him. It knocked the breath out of him, and when Gumshoe let go he fell back into the chair more heavily than he would have liked. He recovered in time to start unfastening his pants while Gumshoe circled the desk. Gumshoe pushed the chair back and knelt in front of him, partially hidden under the desk. It wasn’t the most comfortable place he could have chosen, and there was no risk of someone walking in with the door locked. There was no reason for the big guy to cram himself under the desk; Edgeworth suspected an ulterior motive. Maybe Gumshoe had been thinking about a drink in this fancy chair for a while.

He smirked at the thought, then relaxed into a wider smile as Gumshoe pulled aside the fine fabrics of his clothes. He wasn’t hard, not yet, which made it easy for Gumshoe to take him entirely into his mouth. Edgeworth leaned back with a gentle sigh, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander. Gumshoe’s mouth was hot, and wet, and he was surprisingly skilled with his tongue. Maybe a result of eating so many noodles. His laugh turned into a gasp as Gumshoe’s tongue hit a sensitive spot. One hand rested gently on Gumshoe’s head, threaded through short brown hair. The other he raised to his mouth, pressing the back against his lips. The offices were fairly soundproof but muffled noises could occasionally be heard through the walls, and he’d rather not have to explain himself.

Gumshoe didn’t waste any time, sucking hard and fast. Once Edgeworth was fully erect he slowed down, taking his time and using his tongue in all the ways that made Edgeworth squirm. “Slow” wasn’t the right word, though. Edgeworth knew from wonderful experience that Gumshoe could stretch this out for hours, keeping him on the edge until he was a whimpering puddle. They didn’t have that kind of time today, unfortunately, so Gumshoe skipped all the teasing little pauses and dedicated all his attention to Edgeworth’s most sensitive spots. It was barely a minute until he started finding it hard to keep quiet, and soon he was digging his teeth into his hand to muffle himself. One of Gumshoe’s hands had disappeared and he was certain it was busy elsewhere, and the thought that sucking his cock was turning Gumshoe on excited him.

Edgeworth wasn’t going to hold back. He let his body react, twitching and thrusting into Gumshoe’s mouth. He could feel the pressure building inside him and made no effort to contain it, instead letting it swell. It happened too suddenly for him to give any warning; he fisted his hand in Gumshoe’s hair and thrust, spilling deep into his mouth in a moment of release so strong he forgot how to breathe. Then he released him and collapsed into the chair, gasping. Gumshoe, ever diligent, licked him clean before pulling away, wiping his mouth on his hand. Then he lifted Edgeworth’s pants back into place - a rumpled mess, but Edgeworth could fix it later - and sat back, beaming upwards.

“Was it good?” he asked.

Edgeworth nodded. He smoothed Gumshoe’s hair down, and the action felt like petting a dog who’d done a trick. Gumshoe didn’t seem to mind, though, based on the way his face lit up and he leaned into the touch, just a little. “Very good,” he mumbled, smiling.

Gumshoe clambered to his feet. “Glad to hear it!” he said, snapping into a salute. “I hope it helps!”

Edgeworth couldn’t fail to notice the bulge in Gumshoe’s pants. He reached for it, but Gumshoe stepped away so he let his arm fall back down. “I should be able to focus, once I’ve had a few minutes to recover,” Edgeworth said. “Thank you for the assistance.”

Gumshoe beamed with pride. “Good luck, sir!”

As he left the office, Edgeworth straightened up and set about fixing his appearance. He adjusted his pants and smoothed his hair, checking carefully in the reflective surface of the window. His face was pink and his breathing a little ragged, but that would wear off soon enough. For now, he turned back to his desk to resume more traditional trial prep.

 

The trial went remarkably well. He still lost, because Wright had a frustrating knack for taking innocent clients, but they did find the real killer with enough evidence that the next trial, set for tomorrow, would take about ten minutes. More importantly, not once did he catch himself staring blankly at Wright, or distracted from his words by the movement of his lips, or flustered by an offhand comment.

Gumshoe was there, watching, as usual. Afterwards he congratulated Wright, then disappeared unusually quickly. Edgeworth let him go; he had a suspicion about what he was off to do so desperately, based on the look he’d given him before rushing off. Edgeworth had been thinking some reciprocity was in order after the trial, but if Gumshoe wanted to take care of himself he certainly could. Edgeworth returned to his office to get his files in order.

He was driving home when his phone beeped. A brief glance showed that it was a message from Gumshoe. He ignored it, but another came a few minutes later, and a third after that. It could be important. He pulled over to read the messages and smiled as soon as he saw the first one.

“wanna come over for a drink? soon?”

“I know you have a trial tomorrow but it’s early so I thought maybe a quick drink would be okay? It’s fine if you say no though I get it”

“but I want you to say yes”

It was a little more frantic than his usual requests. Maybe Gumshoe hasn’t been able to handle the problem by himself after all. Edgeworth took a moment to consider it. He did have a trial tomorrow, so he did need a good night’s sleep - but he slept more soundly after sex. That was all the justification he needed. He typed in a response and started driving again, changing course to Gumshoe’s place.

It wasn’t dark yet by the time he pulled up, parking on the street directly in front of the building. He descended to the door of Gumshoe’s basement apartment and knocked. Immediately the door opened, and before he could speak Gumshoe grabbed by the arm and dragged him through. The door slammed shut behind him and Gumshoe pinned him against it, kissing him hard. Gumshoe’s hands were already at work on the buttons of Edgeworth’s shirt as he fumbled at it, unable to look down without breaking the kiss. After a moment of shock Edgeworth responded by wrapping his arms around him, pulling him even closer. Anything he tried to say was muffled against Gumshoe’s mouth, and words were replaced with formless moan. Gumshoe gave up on the shirt buttons and just slid his hand up under it instead, fingertips clawing at Edgeworth’s skin. His other hand curved around to squeeze his ass - not rough enough to hurt, but far from gentle. The action also served to pull his hips forward to grind against Gumshoe’s groin, and he could feel him hard through the fabric.

Edgeworth tended to go at a faster pace when he was the one in charge of things. Usually Gumshoe was slow, gentle, even tender, so this was a departure from the norm. And, as it turned out, one Edgeworth was very much into. He’d barely been thinking about sex when he knocked on the door, expecting the same gradual buildup Gumshoe usually led him through. This, though, this frantic want, to be needed fiercely, it made his chest flare with heat and his heartbeat quicken. Gumshoe’s hands held him firmly, and his arms pulled him forward effortlessly, and Edgeworth was suddenly aware of exactly how gentle he usually was, compared to this. Gumshoe was strong, but he’d never realized how easily he could overwhelm Edgeworth if he so chose, how completely he could control him, how deliberate his gentleness must be. Under the primal thrill of being so helpless, something else stirred in his chest. Something soft, something blue.

It would stay there even as he forgot it, swept away by Gumshoe’s hand hooking into his pants and tugging them downwards. Unfortunately Edgeworth’s pants were too finely tailored to slide off his hips so easily, so Gumshoe had to pause long enough to find and operate the zipper. This gave Edgeworth time to catch his breath.

“Eager today, aren’t we?” he said, breathing heavily while he watched Gumshoe work.

Gumshoe didn’t look up, but Edgeworth was sure he saw his cheeks redden anyway. “Been thinking about it all day,” he mumbled.

Edgeworth smirked. “Well, then,” he said, “I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting any longer.”

Gumshoe’s head jerked up, eyes wide. He lunged up to kiss Edgeworth again, his hands jumping from the now-open zipper to his own belt. Edgeworth gripped Gumshoe by the back of the head, pulling him close to keep the kiss going even as his attention was elsewhere. Then Edgeworth felt his waistband finally fall past his waist, taking his underwear with it and exposing him for barely an instant before he felt flesh against his own. Gumshoe’s hand was wrapped around him, and when he grunted and thrust he realized that their cocks were pressed together, rubbing against Gumshoe’s fingers and each other. Edgeworth moaned, his knees almost buckling, but Gumshoe held him up by the pure pressure of their bodies.

After that morning’s activities Edgeworth wouldn’t have expected it, but he was already panting and trying to hold back. The sensation of hard flesh pressed against his own was novel, and the combined friction of that plus Gumshoe’s hand made him bite his lip to try and stay grounded. What was really affecting him, though, was Gumshoe’s reaction - his little barely-restrained grunts, the ragged rhythm of his thrusts, the way he clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut in an expression of pure focus. It was exhilarating, it was thrilling, it was - it was -

Fuck, it was just hot.

Gumshoe’s other hand had been cupped around Edgeworth’s ass this whole time, pulling him closer. Now, it snagged his sagging waistband and dragged it down further where it fell to the floor. Edgeworth used one foot to kick the shoe off the other, almost falling in the process, but it allowed him to pull one leg free of the puddle of fabric. Edgeworth groaned when Gumshoe took his hand away, but that hand hooked under his thigh and lifted it up where Edgeworth could wrap it around Gumshoe’s waist.

Part of Edgeworth recognized that several aspects of this were bad. The angle was awkward at best and impossible to hold for long. They had no lube. They weren’t using condoms. But the part of Edgeworth that wanted to get fucked had grown so much stronger lately, and he yielded to its judgement. Yes, he could stop Gumshoe, move somewhere more comfortable, get lube, use a condom, and have a perfectly nice time - or he could get fucked hard and fast against the wall by a man who wanted him so bad he couldn’t wait another minute. In the moment, it was an easy choice.

Gumshoe thrust into him and he yelped at the sharp pain. For a moment Gumshoe froze, terror blooming in his eyes, but Edgeworth grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him down into another kiss, encouraging him to go deeper. The pain built a base for his pleasure, making it all the sweeter when Gumshoe’s cock pushed past the tight entrance and up, up into him. Gumshoe supported him with one hand under his ass, bracing the other against the wall. Every thrust lifted him higher until he was on tiptoe, pinned between the unyielding wall and the grunting, straining Gumshoe, his breath hot on his neck and his chest warm against his own. His cries faded to whimpers, only to grow again as the pressure built inside him. Gumshoe fucked him faster, harder, slamming into him so deep that it hurt deliciously. As they both approached the end, Gumshoe scooped up Edgeworth’s other leg. Now he was holding him up, pinned against the wall, his legs completely off the ground and nothing but Gumshoe’s own arms keeping him from sliding down onto his cock.

Edgeworth reached his limit. He bit Gumshoe’s shoulder to muffle his screams as he came, everything spilling out between them. Gumshoe didn’t stop, growling as he thrust harder, harder, his cock squeezed tight by Edgeworth. The peak of his orgasm faded but he couldn’t relax, still full of Gumshoe, still pounding away. He was amazingly sensitive and every tiny twitch made him cry out, clutching desperately at Gumshoe’s broad shoulders for something to hold on to, something to keep him afloat in this agonizing overstimulation. With one final, deep thrust, Gumshoe’s grunts turned into a long groan; his jaw unclenched to hang open, and his eyes flew open and rolled back. But to Edgeworth, the most important was that he’d just come inside him. He was far too pragmatic to let someone fuck him without a condom, so this was the first time that had ever happened. He didn’t realize he’d be able to feel it. Maybe it was just because he was so over sensitive, or maybe it was his imagination, but he could feel Gumshoe’s cock throbbing as it filled him completely, oozing into every crevice. It felt heavenly.

After that long, glorious moment, Gumshoe started to breathe again. He put up a hand against the wall to support himself, lowering Edgeworth’s leg in the process. Not that his leg could do much to hold him at the moment, but it did make their fall a bit gentler as they collapsed together. Gumshoe keeled over, slumping against Edgeworth’s chest while Edgeworth tried to find a way to sit that didn’t put pressure on his aching ass.

“Are you all right?” he asked, stroking Gumshoe’s hair.

Gumshoe grumbled, shifting slightly to peer up with one eye. “That was intense,” he said before closing his eye again.

“Was it what you were hoping for?”

Gumshoe nodded, and Edgeworth smiled, settling into a somewhat comfortable position. After a minute he cleared his throat. “I feel I should point out that we did not use a condom.”

“Shit. Sorry.” Gumshoe sat up straighter now, peeling away, and Edgeworth was able to see what a mess he’d made. These clothes might be a lost cause.

“Just something to keep in mind.” It had been a while since he’d been tested, but it had been longer since the last time he’d been in a position to catch anything. He wasn’t planning to speculate on Gumshoe’s romantic history, and didn’t want to ask straight out. He could have others with similar arrangements, and that was nothing to do with Edgeworth. Or the way his stomach sank at the thought.

“Well I don’t have anything,” Gumshoe said, scratching the back of his head. “But it’s not like it’s gonna offend me if you wanna get tested.”

“I didn’t think it would.” He should, really. If this sort of thing had happened with anyone else, he wouldn’t have taken them at their word. And many things could be asymptomatic but still contagious. Better safe than sorry. But for some reason, he didn’t feel the need to run out for testing. If Gumshoe said he was clean, Edgeworth believed him.

Although maybe not enough to skip the condom again.

Even if it felt damn good.

Chapter 6: A Solitary Evening

Summary:

Edgeworth spends some time at home.

Edgeworth couldn’t give in to every impulse to call Gumshoe. The man had his own life to live, for one thing. He didn’t want to become dependent, either, or so accustomed to sex that it became difficult to go without it. Independence was important. So was self control.

Still, one good thing that had come out of this was increased comfort with the idea of sex, and its various accoutrements. Edgeworth had barely considered the concept of sex toys before this affair began, and now he was developing a decent little collection. A fairly vanilla collection, but for him the little box he’d hidden in the back of his closet represented a big change.

It had been a stressful day - wasn’t it always? - and he was tempted to indulge himself. But he couldn’t call Gumshoe, or at least, he shouldn’t. It had only been a few days since their last encounter, and he was determined to keep himself from becoming too reliant on the detective’s company. He still found himself with that now all-too-familiar restlessness. It persisted as he poured himself a glass of wine and settled into place on the couch. His phone was in his hand, and drifting towards his messages. With a twinge of annoyance at himself, he redirected to the web browser.

It was hardly a surprise what a wide variety of sites were available; Edgeworth wasn’t that naive. He’d found a reliable one - simple design, discreet packaging, even customer reviews. It had been the source of the few items he’d so far dared to order, and he’d certainly been satisfied. So, with a glass of wine in his hand and that irritating need simmering in the back of his throat, he began to browse.

He still found himself baffled by many of the offerings. Some were obvious. He knew what a dildo was, and he could understand the appeal of different sizes and colors. Some of the designs he’d stumbled across confused him, though. He wasn’t sure how much a different shape could change the experience, and once, he’d ventured into a specialty shop that had him frankly a bit worried. The size of these things…! Of course, he had no interest in their garish colors and outlandish designs. That hadn’t stopped him from lingering, and imagining… but he was perfectly happy with his more conventional purchases. For now.

He clicked idly through his chosen site, sipping his drink. The simple, surface level items had become mundane remarkably quickly - basic dildos, simple vibrators, cheap licensed bondage kits. He found his attention drifting to some of the more complicated offerings. Most of them required a partner, so they were clearly useless to him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look, did it?

Some of the toys on the page were absolutely indecipherable. He paused to examine a contraption of straps and rings that he just couldn’t parse. Perhaps that went there, and then that would go around… but then what was the buckle for? Shaking his head, he clicked away. He was looking for sex, not a Gordian knot. That wasn’t to say he didn’t appreciate the appeal of some of the more esoteric options. And such variety! Who could have thought there were so many ways to make a gag? Rubber balls, leather masks, steel rings, silk straps. He could definitely see the appeal of gagging Phoenix. Or Gumshoe, which was a bit easier to picture: kneeling in front of him, gazing up with wide eyes, pleas muffled by the rubber ball shoved between his lips…

That need flared, and this time Edgeworth didn’t resist. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, just to complete the picture, to tie Gumshoe’s wrists and remove his clothes, move him to the bed, bend him over - ah, that was what the bar was for. It was a surprisingly appealing image. Impossible, of course, nothing but fantasy, but that didn’t have to stop him from enjoying it. Strange subject, though. Somehow he just couldn’t picture putting Phoenix in the same position. The gag, though, he would definitely enjoy putting Phoenix in. Ideally in court.

The ball gag went into his cart, and just that action pleased him. It didn’t mean he was going to buy it; it was just an extension of the fantasizing. And hopefully he could satisfy himself enough with fantasy to avoid sending a message he’d rather not.

Well. Since he had the gag in his cart, he might as well explore other options. And there really were so many that appealed to him. Straps, cages, clamps, plugs, anything that seemed like it would leave the other person a whimpering mess. His enthusiasm wilted a bit when he considered that any potential partner would have to enjoy it too. Edgeworth had trouble imagining what could be pleasurable about being in that position. Phoenix would never go for it.

Then Gumshoe flashed across his mind again, and he bit his lip and added the complicated set of straps he was looking at to his cart. Just in case. His glass was empty and he’d done a terrible job of dissuading himself from contacting Gumshoe. He went to the kitchen to pour himself another generous glass and drank it while leaning against the counter, phone held loosely between his fingers. He clicked out of the web browser and over to the messages.

“Come over for a drink.”

He’d sent it before he could stop himself. Because he didn’t want to, really, and the wine was an excuse. It was an appalling lack of self control, and he gulped down the rest of his glass to avoid admitting it. His phone buzzed in reply after only a few seconds.

“sorry but I can’t tonight ): is that ok??”

Edgeworth frowned at the phone. Gumshoe had never turned him down before. Well, of course he had every right to, Edgeworth didn’t own the man, and outside of work hours he had no claim to his time. He swallowed down the sour disappointment before typing in his response.

“Of course. Have a good evening.”

He refilled his glass, eyed how much was left in the bottle, and carried it with him into the bedroom.

He was already getting a little fuzzy when he flopped ungracefully into bed, the bottle perched precariously on his nightstand. He wiggled into place, leaning up against the headboard, before taking his phone in one hand and his glass in the other. What now? Maybe he could just keep denying what had been brewing inside him all night. He clicked away from the messages and back to the web browser, back to the store, back to the solo section. Back to rows and rows of colorful silicone, photographed clean against bright white backgrounds, with cheery reviews. Vibrators, maybe, he hadn’t tried one of those yet, and while the shapes were a bit confusing he was confident he could figure it out once he had the thing in hand. Just in case, he picked a couple. Then he drank some more, added something else that looked colorful, and checked out.

There was no point anymore. If Gumshoe wasn’t coming over he’d have to deal with it himself. He slipped off the bed and knelt in front of his closet. Buried in the furthest corner, behind a pile of shoeboxes, lay one particular box. He dug it out, knocking over the camouflage in the process, and proceeded back to his bed where he dropped it on the blankets. He flipped the lid off and stared at the contents while he began the process of shedding his clothes.

They really weren’t all that impressive, not compared to some of the things he’d seen online, but for a man who barely even masturbated until recently the three dildos inside were still exciting. The first one he’d bought was slim and smooth, made of bright purple silicone. It made him feel a bit ridiculous, right up until the first time he’d used it, when it made him feel amazing. The color was not to his taste, which is why the second one had been closer to a flesh tone, albeit distressingly pale. This one had a suction cup on the base, a feature he hadn’t appreciated when picking it out, but had found useful on some more adventurous days. His favorite so far, however, was the third, his most ambitious purchase to date. It was sculpted from a darker, firm silicone, veiny and detailed. The blunt end continued the illusion with a pair of testicles that served as the base. The shaft was thick, much thicker than he’d assumed upon ordering it, but that turned out to be far from a problem.

Once his shirt was off that was the one he picked up, feeling the weight of it, letting it bounce in his hand. He pushed the box aside and crawled back into bed, staring at the dildo, letting his mind fill in the rest. He was already growing hard and he rubbed one hand over the bulge in his pants, closing his eyes and leaning backwards. Yes, like this, like this he could imagine, he could let his mind wander, he could enjoy himself. He hummed contentedly as he clutched the dildo in one hand and started digging at his waistband with the other.

A minute later he was throwing his pants carelessly to the floor where they would surely wrinkle, a thought that stood no chance against the sensation of him finally getting a hand on himself. He sighed as he started to stroke, a slow, steady pace, just a hint too fast to be luxurious. He didn’t want to wait for luxurious.

The silicone in his hand was growing warmer under his grip. He lifted it, examining the sculpted tip, and brought it closer to his face. It was, objectively, very silly, what he was about to do. But he’d had enough wine to stop feeling self conscious, and he liked it. So he pressed the head against his lips and let it slip between them.

It tasted nothing like the real thing, of course, but it was about the sensation. He stretched his jaw wider to accommodate it as he pushed it in, past his teeth, into his tongue. Gumshoe’s cock was about this size, and Edgeworth had become enamored with the idea of taking it deep down his throat, all the way to the base. He’d been practicing, but he could still only get halfway down the shaft before his gag reflex kicked it. But as he stroked himself, he closed his lips tight around it and sucked. He still couldn’t figure out why he did this, what the point was - there was no one to feel it, and it often left his jaw aching. Maybe splitting his focus between his mouth and his cock made it easier to imagine someone else was in his bed. Maybe he had some unresolved oral fixation to quell. Maybe there was more to the idea of being gagged than he’d thought. But he liked it, so he moaned around it as he slid the dildo through his lips, running his tongue along it and imagining.

Edgeworth could be patient, if he had to. But he didn’t have to. His cock was throbbing, twitching under his fingers, and there was absolutely nothing stopping him from continuing with his plan. Because as much as he liked having a cock in his mouth, it was nothing compared to having it in his ass.

He pulled the dildo from his lips with a pop and examined it, glistening. For a moment he considered proceeding with nothing but his own spit for lube, but that seemed… ill-advised. And unnecessary. He sat up and reached for the box. He slipped a condom onto the shaft - one of the ribbed ones that hadn’t fit Gumshoe, which he’d been pleased to realize he could make use of anyway for easy cleanup. He’d tried a few varieties of lube, too, before settling on this little pink bottle. He watched it ooze out of the bottle onto the dildo, along the length, thick and glistening. A quick jerk of his wrist coated the entire shaft, and he settled back against the headboard, propped up by pillows, his knees bent and angled outward. With both hands he braced himself, exploring with the tip until it found his entrance, and pushed.

It was too fast. He hissed at the sharp pain and stopped. For a moment he held still, breathing through it, letting the tension flow out of his muscles. Then, with a long exhale, he began again. The exhale turned into a moan as the dildo breached him, slipping inside him, filling him. He pushed it as far as it would go and held it there, biting his lip. God, it felt good. More than enough to make up for his lack of a partner, at least for tonight. Without a partner he had complete control over how deep it went, how deliciously slow. His head lolled back as he worked it in and out, moaning unabashedly.

He left his cock lying heavy against his stomach until it began to ache, and then a little longer. When he eventually gave in and wrapped his lubed hand around it the sweet shock made him jerk up, hard, gasping. He curled his whole fist around it and already he felt like he was going to explode as he slowly, slowly stroked himself.

It took a minute to figure out the rhythm between his two hands. Either he’d neglect his cock, overwhelmed by pumping the toy into himself, or leave it seated to the hilt inside him as he stroked. But soon enough his hands coordinated and he was savoring the fantastic sensation of being fucked while touching himself. When he didn’t need to concentrate quite so hard anymore his mind began to wander, filling in the spaces between sensation and desire. With a thought, the hand stroking him wasn’t his own but Phoenix’s, teasing a little moan from his lips. He closed his eyes, picturing Phoenix hovering over him with a smug smile. He wanted so badly to grab him, bury his hands in that stupid spiky hair, and push him down to put that smug mouth to work.

Edgeworth gasped as the dildo hit the sweet spot, arching his back, and for a moment the picture wavered. Phoenix, sucking his cock, or Gumshoe, fucking him - his mind flickered between them like a zoetrope spun too slowly. Then it coalesced, and he groaned as the new scenario crystallized in his mind. Why not both?

He sat up just a bit straighter, letting himself press down against the dildo more firmly. Free from the physical limitations of reality, he could have it: Gumshoe, behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him down onto his cock, and Phoenix kneeling in front of him, mouth thoroughly occupied. The fantasy was almost potent enough to push Edgeworth over right then and he whimpered, speeding his movements to match the intensity of his imagined partners. He could practically hear Gumshoe grunting in his ear, thrusting into him, all heat and muscle and sweat, getting frantic as he approached his peak. And Wright, moans muffled, he just wanted to grab him by the hair and force him down and bury his cock in his throat and come down his throat and watch him swallow every drop and -

Edgeworth couldn’t keep quiet, yelping as the pleasure swelling inside him burst and spilled over his own fingers, every muscle taut and straining as the world went white. Then he could breathe again, gasping as he fell back to the mattress, staring blankly at nothing. His hands were still while he caught his breath, panting. Eventually he regained his senses enough to realize the dildo was still buried in him and extract it, twitching. He stumbled out of bed and to the bathroom to clean up, but couldn’t be bothered to hide his toy box properly. He just flopped into bed, his limbs weak, sinking into the soft bedding.

Later, when he woke, he’d shove the box under his bed. And in a few days when his order arrived, he’d add his little impulse buys and tuck it back into the closet. But for now, he wasn’t thinking about any of that. He wasn’t thinking at all. He simply slipped away.

Chapter 7: Please

Summary:

Edgeworth has some drinks and a friendly conversation with Phoenix Wright. And later, when Gumshoe comes by to clean his office, he has a different kind of drink.

There was no avoiding Wright. There never was, really. When their cases overlapped, Wright managed to swing by Edgeworth’s office for advice or just to chat. Edgeworth didn’t mind, much. Since his arrangement with Gumshoe, he’d stopped spending these visits so preoccupied with ending them, ideally with Wright sprawled across his desk.

Actual friendship was a rare thing for Edgeworth. Larry counted, he supposed. Franziska, too. And Gumshoe was… well, not exactly a friend. Pleasant company, though. But it had become a common occurrence, almost a tradition, for Wright to swing by the office for a celebratory drink when either of them won a case. Edgeworth kept a bottle of scotch and a set of crystal glasses in a cabinet.

They didn’t talk about anything, really. Nothing important. Not work, their jobs, their cases, just… talking. It was something Edgeworth wasn’t used to. But it was pleasant.

This evening, Wright had popped in with a grin. Earlier that day, he’d exonerated a woman accused of killing her neighbor, and exposed the true culprit to be their landlord. Edgeworth had the scotch out before Wright arrived.

Several glasses later, Wright was leaning on the desk, expounding at length about the disappointing romantic subplot in some movie he’d seen. Edgeworth sat back in his chair, nodding in between sips.

“ - and that’s why she should’ve ended up with Emily!” Wright declared, slapping the desk. “Seriously, how much better would have been?”

“Absolutely,” replied Edgeworth, who had completely lost track somewhere around the secret twin, and that was four plot twists ago.

“Right? Honestly. I don’t know who made that decision but it basically ruined the whole movie.” Wright sighed and shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “Even you know better.”

“Even me?” Edgeworth scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You, man. You’re, like, a virgin.”

“Excuse me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Phoenix said, shrugging. “You just don’t know how relationships work. You’ll get it some day.”

“I am certainly not a virgin,” Edgeworth declared. “Do not presume you know about my love life.”

Phoenix smiled and shook his head. “What love life?”

“I’ll have you know, I’m currently - “ Edgeworth froze mid-sentence.

Too late. Wright practically launched himself across the desk. “You’re seeing someone? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I - well, it’s not really…” Edgeworth cleared his throat. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh. So, what are they like?”

“He’s - “ Edgeworth stopped again. Was there anything he could say that wouldn’t immediately give it away? “It’s really just physical,” he managed. “We’re not… dating.”

Wright’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve got a fuck buddy? You?”

“Don’t be so vulgar,” Edgeworth snapped, but Wright was already collapsing back into his chair with laughter.

“I never would’ve guessed! You’re so - “ He gestured vaguely. “What, did you go to a bar and pick up a stranger?”

That wasn’t entirely incorrect. Edgeworth took another sip to avoid answering, and Wright started cackling again. “You did! Oh, my god.”

“I fail to see what’s so funny,” Edgeworth muttered. “I’m allowed to - to want.”

“Sorry,” said Wright, still giggling. “Sorry, sorry, you’re right. I’m not trying to judge you, I just - you surprised me! But no, yeah, you’re - you’re allowed.” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, finally running out of laughter. “What’s he like?”

“How did you - “

“You said ‘he’ earlier.”

“I did?”

“Yup. And don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s not exactly hard to guess.”

Edgeworth almost called him out on that, but that was probably a bad rabbit hole to go down. He tilted the glass back and finished his drink while Wright waited expectantly. “He’s… nice,” he said, tapping the side of the empty glass. What could he possibly say? “We meet up occasionally for drinks. That’s all, really.”

“Uh-huh.” Wright was looking at Edgeworth with far too knowing of a look. “You know, I thought you’d been in a better mood lately.”

“That’s not - !”

Wright started laughing again, and Edgeworth frowned and grabbed the bottle of scotch.

“Hey,” said Wright, pushing his glass across the desk, “good for you. Seriously. You should enjoy yourself once in a while.”

Edgeworth glared at the glass, just for a few seconds, before opening the bottle and pouring them both refills. “That is something I’m still working on,” he muttered.

Wright nodded; they’d had enough of these drinks that conversation had veered into more serious topics from time to time. “Well, even if you’re not looking for a relationship, a fu - a casual thing can be good.”

Edgeworth picked up his drink and leaned back again. “And when will you be getting a love life that I can mock you about?”

Wright groaned. “Come on, I get enough of that from Pearl. She’s read too many fairy tales.”

“Perhaps just the wrong fairy tales. I could locate a copy of Der Struwwelpeter.”

“I don’t even know what that is and I can already tell that would get me yelled at.”

Edgeworth laughed.

 

Edgeworth would never do something so careless as driving drunk. He’d spent plenty of nights on the couch in his office anyway, it was hardly a huge inconvenience to do so again. Still, he certainly preferred his own bed, and as he sat on the couch after Phoenix’s departure he began to wish he’d gone a little lighter on the scotch. He’d almost dozed off when the door opened and his head jerked up with an inelegant snort.

“Oh! Sorry, sir.” Gumshoe was peering through the cracked door. “Didn’t mean to bother you. I thought you’da gone home by now.”

Edgeworth waved him in. “No trouble, Detective,” he said, letting his eyes close again. “Was there something you needed?”

“Um… not really. I was just gonna, y’know, clean up a little.”

“Hmm.” The building employed a custodial staff, and Edgeworth was sure they were reasonably competent, but he refused to let them into his office regardless. It was a matter of security. Somewhere along the way Gumshoe had taken it upon himself to help keep the place clean instead. There was no particular reason to stop him, so Edgeworth allowed it. He suspected the detective liked to feel useful.

He didn’t bother opening his eyes while he heard Gumshoe shuffling about. He wasn’t properly drunk, but he was definitely at the right level of tipsy where very few things sounded more pleasant than lying somewhere soft.

For a while, the only sounds were Gumshoe’s footsteps and the soft shuffling of his duster. It was too much to hope the man would work quietly, though, and after a while he spoke. “Drinks with Mr. Wright again, sir?”

“Mmm. He was successful with that… case.” Details were fuzzy. Fortunately, he didn’t really care.

“Oh yeah, I heard!” Gumshoe chuckled from somewhere. “Man, who woulda guessed it was that guy?”

“Hopefully you,” Edgeworth mumbled. There wasn’t a response, so he assumed Gumshoe hadn’t heard him. At least, he hoped so; that had sounded a bit crueler than he’d intended.

Gumshoe cleared his throat. “Can I, uh. Can I ask you a personal question?”

Edgeworth wasn’t going to get his quiet back until he agreed. “Go on.”

“Well, it’s just, um. I mean, you and Mr. Wright, you get along pretty well now. So I was wondering, um, why don't you just ask him over for drinks?”

Edgeworth sighed. He draped his arm over his eyes. “It’s… not that simple.” Why not, was the inevitable follow up question. Gumshoe always thought things were simple. “I’m perfectly happy with our relationship as it stands. I consider him a friend, and a good one at that. I’m not interested in taking it in a romantic direction.” He scrunched his nose. “Despite what my body insists.” The liquor was making him talkative - but then, it was just Gumshoe.

“Yeah, but… I mean… it’s not romantic with us, right?” Edgeworth twisted his head to see Gumshoe standing by his desk, a feather duster in his hands. “If we can… y’know, then why not Mr. Wright instead?”

Edgeworth paused for a moment, considering his answer. The first time was a matter of fortunate timing and convenience. But he’d made no effort to branch out to other partners, or follow through with his original desire. Gumshoe was… good. Satisfactory. It worked with him. “He doesn’t strike me as the type of man who would fit our arrangement,” he said at last.

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”

Edgeworth snorted. “I don’t want to ask. Besides, what am I supposed to say? ‘Hello, please bend me over my desk and fuck me?’ Like that would work.”

Gumshoe shrugged. “It’d work on me.”

Edgeworth stared as Gumshoe returned to cleaning, reaching high to clean the dust off his bookshelves. The man showed absolutely no recognition of what he’d just said. Not a single glance, or a hint of blush, or anything to indicate he’d registered his own statement. He probably didn’t mean anything by it; it would hardly be the first time he’d spoken thoughtlessly.

But.

Well.

Now Edgeworth was curious.

“Detective,” he purred, stretching and rising from his recline. When Gumshoe looked at him, he arched his back and tilted his head - he’d picked up on some of the things that Gumshoe liked to see, and right now he was feeling pleasantly drowsy and oddly playful. “Please,” he continued once he was sure he had his attention, “bend me over my desk and fuck me.”

The duster clattered to the floor. “R-right now?” Gumshoe squeaked.

“Well. You said all I had to do was ask.” It was a challenge, of a sort. Edgeworth really hadn’t been in an amorous mood, but that could change easily enough. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it, either. Plenty of lonely fantasies revolved around his desk, swept clear of papers in a fit of passion. He’d never really considered following through. But then, they’d already gotten up to quite a bit of mischief in here.

It didn’t look like Gumshoe was going to take the bait, based on his stricken expression. Edgeworth let himself fall slowly back to the couch, eyes closing again. “Just a thought, Detective.” Gumshoe hadn’t really been propositioning him, after all, and he was hardly going to beg. Although now that his mind had started down that path, he might figure out how to get home tonight after all, so he could complete the thought in the comfort and privacy of his own bed.

He wasn't paying attention to the sounds of Gumshoe’s footsteps, so he was startled by Gumshoe grabbing his shoulder. He was more surprised by the kiss, hard against his lips, and found himself staring into Gumshoe’s eyes.

“Ask me again,” Gumshoe said, short of breath.

“Please,” Edgeworth gasped, and it was a gasp, high and sharp and helpless. In an instant his heart had started racing, pulsing under his neck and under his skin.

Gumshoe scooped one arm behind Edgeworth’s back. “Please?” he prompted, inches away from his face.

“Please,” Edgeworth repeated, still reeling. He’d said it just moments ago, but he was struggling to repeat it. But he could feel the heat of Gumshoe’s body hovering over him and his head was just the right level of floaty and thirty seconds ago he hadn’t even been considering sex and now - now he opened his mouth, and said, “Please fuck me.”

Gumshoe leaned in, so close to Edgeworth’s ear he could feel his breath. “Ask me again,” he whispered.

Edgeworth wasn’t going to beg. It was just that Gumshoe decided right then to gently nibble his earlobe, sending shivers down his spine, that the next “P-please” came out broken. He swallowed hard, and twitched away when Gumshoe’s fingers brushed against his throat. “Please…”

“Please what?” Gumshoe stroked Edgeworth’s chin, drawing it up. “Tell me what you want, sir.”

Sir. That’s right, he was in charge here. Edgeworth was the one who told Gumshoe what to do, and Gumshoe just listened. So why, sitting here, quivering, did it feel like that wasn’t the case? Gumshoe knew what he wanted. He didn’t need to be coy. And he certainly didn’t need to be shy. But here he sat, with Gumshoe waiting for his order, and feeling helpless.

“Please,” he sighed, “please fuck me.”

Gumshoe kissed him again and Edgeworth relaxed, going limp in his arms as Gumshoe lifted him from the couch. He draped his arms over Gumshoe’s shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist, for support and also to feel the pressure of their bodies squeezed together. Gumshoe lifted him effortlessly, one arm under his ass and the other pulling him into a long, deep kiss that persisted as he carried him over to the desk.

When they reached it, he set Edgeworth down on the edge, knocking over a cup of pens and sending them scattering across the desk. “Is this what you want?” Gumshoe mumbled, kissing Edgeworth’s neck. “Ask me again, sir.”

“Fuck me,” Edgeworth gasped, shivering. “Please, please, fuck me, please, I - I can’t - please - “

Unbelievable. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this desperate, and he’d certainly never begged. But here he was, pleading for Gumshoe - Gumshoe - to read his mind and give him exactly what he wanted, to pin him to the desk and take him hard and fast and - he shivered again and let slip a wordless moan as Gumshoe leaned in, reaching past him, and with one swift motion sent the pens and paper on the desk clattering to the floor. Then he was on his back, and his legs were in the air, and seconds later he could feel the cool wood against his bare skin as Gumshoe removed his pants with surprising speed. God, he must look ridiculous, half naked and sprawled across the desk. He almost stopped at the thought, almost wussed out and called a stop to the whole ridiculous enterprise, until Gumshoe thrust into him with one quick movement and everything else vanished.

The first cry from his mouth was more pain than pleasure; they had no lubricant except for spit and determination. He bit back another when Gumshoe, unhesitating, pulled back and thrust again, rough and sharp. Edgeworth shuddered as a wave of pleasure swept across him, dulling the pain. Soon he was moaning, completely helpless as Gumshoe obeyed his exact command, rocking against the desk and deep into him. He was being loud, and he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t think of why and he couldn’t stop. It was a relief when Gumshoe’s hand came down on his mouth, muffling him, the other hand still holding his leg up with no interruption to the rhythm. Now Edgeworth could be loud - and he was, screaming against Gumshoe’s hand, losing control.

Gumshoe grunted, speeding up, as Edgeworth pleaded unintelligibly for more, faster, harder. His whole body quivered, every muscle taut as a bowstring, until he burst with a scream, his body alight and floating. Gumshoe didn’t stop and god, it hurt, it hurt, and it was amazing, and he kept screaming right up until Gumshoe groaned and thrust deep into him, shuddering. They stayed there frozen together, panting. Slowly Edgeworth sank back into himself. He gasped when Gumshoe withdrew, then groaned as he lowered his aching legs. Gumshoe was hovering over him, breathing hard and looking half-asleep already.

They hadn’t used a condom. Again. That was unforgivably careless of him. Once was a mistake, one that shouldn’t have been repeated, and a bad habit to settle into. Not to mention, he realized as he tried to gather himself, that they hadn’t exactly been tidy. He grimaced at the wet spot on the front of his shirt.

Gumshoe must have followed his line of sight, because before Edgeworth could stop him he was swiping the spot with his sleeve. “S-sorry, sir,” he said. “I’ll clean up.”

Edgeworth grabbed his arm. “Your coat!”

“Huh? Oh!” Gumshoe grinned. “Don’t worry about it. It’s seen worse.”

Edgeworth sighed and released him, allowing Gumshoe to wipe up what he could of the mess. He firmly stopped him before he could venture south, though; he’d rather soak through his pants than have that coat anywhere near his ass. Not that he was going to soak through. But he was probably going to be uncomfortably moist.

He slid off the desk and discovered that his pants were bunched up around one ankle. That must have looked ridiculous when he was - with his legs in the air, like that. He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from blushing as he sorted himself out, fixing his clothes as best he could and how had his shoe gotten all the way to the other side of the room? He really needed to pay more attention to these things. He took a step and stumbled; he would have fallen if Gumshoe didn’t catch him.

“Woah! You okay, sir?”

“I - “ Edgeworth took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Tired.” He allowed Gumshoe to half-carry him to the couch. The detective’s arms felt nice wrapped around him, and he sighed when he was set down.

Gumshoe stood back, rubbing the back of his neck. “D’you want a ride home, sir?”

“I think I may take you up on that offer, Detective.” He shifted his position and winced; he was going to suffer the consequences of his careless decisions come morning. “Give me a moment to… recover.”

“Sure thing. I’ll, uh. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Edgeworth closed his eyes and leaned back. Then he opened them again, just barely, enough to watch as Gumshoe set about gathering up all the stuff they’d sent flying to the floor. “You don’t have to…” he mumbled.

“Of course I do, sir! I came in here to clean up! I couldn’t leave the place messier than when I got here!” Gumshoe dumped a fistful of pens in the cup and set it confidently on the desk. “I’ll just be a minute, sir, and then I’ll get you home safe.”

“Suit yourself,” Edgeworth grumbled, closing his eyes once more. The next sensation was a brief patch of light and weightlessness. Then, he was in a car, his head leaning against the window. Then, somehow, he was in his own bed, mostly undressed, and someone else was in the room.

“Detective?” he called groggily, peering through the dark.

The someone else moved towards him and pulled a blanket up over his shoulders. “Was hoping not to wake you,” they said, in a voice so warm and deep it had to be Gumshoe. Which was good, because if it had been anyone other than Gumshoe, that would’ve been… bad. Edgeworth closed his eyes and rolled over.

“Goodnight, sir,” said the very nice voice. Edgeworth probably dreamed the kiss that followed.

Chapter 8: Praise

Summary:

Edgeworth learns it’s nice to give a compliment once in a while.

It was a perfectly ordinary evening and Edgeworth was seated on his couch, glass of wine in hand. Anyone looking at him might have thought he was just relaxing, until they looked down. Gumshoe knelt in front of him, head between his thighs, mouth hard at work.

“Mmm.” Edgeworth closed his eyes, letting his head fall back. One hand rested on the back of Gumshoe’s head, grazing the short-cropped hair. He was normally not very vocal, but something Gumshoe did with his tongue made him sigh, and out slipped, “Amazing.”

The reaction was so subtle that he almost thought he’d imagined it, but there was something. A twitch, or a pause, or something. He half-opened his eyes, looking down at Gumshoe, and stroked his hair. “Incredible,” he mumbled, watching for a response. And there was one, undeniable; Gumshoe shivered, and his mouth tightened around him. A smile spread across Edgeworth’s face, almost wicked, as he said, “God, that’s good.”

And Gumshoe moaned.

Oh, he was certain now. Gumshoe liked that. 

Edgeworth stroked the back of Gumshoe’s head, running his fingers across the short hair. “You’re so good at this, darling. You know just how I like it, don’t you?”

Gumshoe gazed up at him, the angle forcing him into a plaintive gaze. It was an extremely pleasant view, his eyes sparkling with want and that ever-present desire to please turned carnal. “You make for quite the pretty picture,” Edgeworth moaned, sinking into the couch. “That feels amazing.” He wasn’t exaggerating; his experience may have been limited, but in this moment Gumshoe’s mouth felt better than anything he could possibly imagine. It wasn’t exactly a stretch to say so, so he did, and Gumshoe moaned against him.

“You’re amazing,” he said. Ah, he was repeating himself. Surely he could think of something better to say. But at the moment, with Gumshoe’s tongue wrapped around him, it was hard to come up with the words. “Incredible,” he sighed. “God, you’re so good, darling. This is am-mmm… wonderful.” 

There was something strangely satisfying about saying these things. Not just the way Gumshoe’s hands were creeping up his thighs, or the intensity of his mouth, but in actually praising the detective. At work, kind words were few and far between, even when deserved, and it was a habit he’d carried over to this. It was a flaw he was aware of, another side-effect of the man he’d been shaped to be. So there was certainly something relaxing about letting himself babble like this. But based on Gumshoe’s enthusiastic reaction, he was enjoying it even more. 

Good.

“You’re so good to me, darling,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “And you’re so good at this.” The more he said, the more natural it felt, even if he was being a bit repetitive. Gumshoe didn’t seem to mind; Edgeworth was sure he could see his fingertips quivering where they rested against his skin. He came to a decision, and reached down to cup Gumshoe’s cheek again. “Come here,” he said, applying the slightest bit of pressure.

Gumshoe complied, pulling back. Edgeworth sighed as his cock fell from Gumshoe’s lips. It really was a shame to stop him, but Edgeworth was craving something else now. He lifted Gumshoe’s chin and the man followed, rising to his feet, towering over Edgeworth. It was satisfying to control him so easily, so satisfying - but that was for another time. He wanted to play with the new toy he’d discovered.

They moved to the bedroom, where Edgeworth began the process of disrobing Gumshoe. He took his time, pausing between layers to stroke and kiss and, now, comment. There was a lot he’d learned to appreciate about Gumshoe’s body and he let it slip. The strong, muscular arms, the firm broad chest, the back muscles that he loved to feel heave and move under his fingers; he let his mouth babble as he explored, and every word seemed to draw another little moan or sigh.

No words, though; he stole a glance at Gumshoe’s face. The man was gazing down at him with wonder in his eyes, an expression that felt less like lust and more like reverence. It was strange, but he didn’t mind. He could stand to be looked at that way once in a while.

He finally finished disrobing Gumshoe, revealing his already rock-hard erection - and he had plenty of praise for this too, no shortage of nice things to mutter about Gumshoe’s plump ass and powerful thighs and of course that marvelous cock. He pushed Gumshoe towards the bed, making him sit, and shed his own clothes much more quickly.

“Do you know,” he said, resting his hands on Gumshoe’s knees and leaning in close, “how amazing you make me feel? How incredible you are?”

Dick’s face was flushed, and not just from exertion. “I… y-you’re…” Unable to complete the thought, he swooped in to kiss Miles instead. Miles grabbed the back of his neck to pull him even closer, his tongue probing between Gumshoe’s lips. 

When they pulled apart, gasping, Edgeworth spoke again. “Darling,” he said, noting how it still sent a shiver down Gumshoe’s spine, “why don’t you lie down and let me take care of things?”

Gumshoe nodded. Still speechless, he scrambled back until his head rested in the pillows. Miles took advantage of the moment to make sure the lube and a condom were within arm’s reach before he swung a leg over Gumshoe’s, pinning him. Dick’s cock lay in front of him, thick and heavy. He slipped past it as he ran his hands up Gumshoe’s hips and chest.

“Your body is fantastic,” he said, bracing himself against Gumshoe’s chest. “So strong. You’re a powerful man, and it feels so good.” He could feel Gumshoe’s muscles tensing as his fingers passed over them, exploring the little divots that formed between. “And you’re all mine? Unbelievable. How lucky am I?” Now he leaned back and finally took Gumshoe’s erection in hand. Gumshoe groaned, his head dropping back, as Edgeworth used his other hand to roll the condom on, then dribble lube down the tip. He spread it with his fingers, dragging them slowly up and down. “You’re going to feel heavenly inside me,” he whispered. Gumshoe whined and shifted under him, and Edgeworth smiled. “Are you ready?”

“Y-yes,” Gumshoe gasped. “Please…”

Edgeworth bent down to kiss him as he adjusted his position. Then he sat back up, hovering just above Gumshoe’s cock. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he lowered himself into it. He gasped when it entered him, and paused for breath before slipping down further. He didn’t have to force the sigh that escaped his lips, or the moan that came next. For a moment he forgot to say anything at all as he hunched over, his hands on Gumshoe’s stomach holding him up. As the first waves subsided, he bit his lip and tried to force himself to say something. All he could manage was to moan, “Amazing…”

When he’d caught his breath he looked down and god, what a sight. Gumshoe’s skin shimmered with sweat and what little hair he had was plastered to his forehead. His mouth hung open as he panted, and his eyes roamed up and down Edgeworth’s form. When he realized this, Edgeworth pulled back his shoulders and arched his back, displaying himself in a way he knew Gumshoe loved. It worked, as he felt one hand grasp his thighs and the other trailing down his chest. 

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled, shifting oh-so-slightly, just enough to make Gumshoe hiss. “Oh, darling, it’s so perfect.”

“Nnnngh.” Gumshoe squeezed his eyes tight, gathering his focus. “C-can you… say my name?”

Edgeworth laughed, quiet and breathy. “Dick?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Is that right?” Edgeworth began to move, agonizingly slow, rising and falling slow as breath. “You want me to call you Dick? Do you like it when I tell you how good it feels, Dick? How amazing you are? Because you’re incredible. You fit me perfectly, you fill me up just right, you’re perfect, Dick.” He was starting to move faster now, losing patience, and finding it harder to speak. “You - you’re so good,” he panted, “so goddamn good. You’re amazing. I would - I would do this for hours, if I could, if - if - “ His orgasm was approaching with surprising speed, and the closer it got, the harder it was to finish a sentence. He bore down on Dick, moving faster, faster, using the last shreds of cognitive ability to shape his formless cries into something resembling his name.

“Dick,” he mumbled, his head lolling back. Somewhere along the way Dick’s hand had wrapped around Edgeworth’s cock, and now he bucked up into it as he bounced on Dick’s cock. He was losing control, barely conscious of his own body, barely able to control it beyond pushing it harder and harder towards climax. “Y-you’re… y-you…” He groaned and abandoned that last attempt to say something intelligible. All he could do was push for more, more, more, and he screamed Dick’s name as he came, spilling over his fingers and onto his stomach. Dick was shuddering below him, thrusting up against him, moaning, and it was so heavenly and perfect and flawless and he wanted it to go on forever, wanted to beg him to stay forever, every word of praise true and vivid and good.

He came down slowly, like he was sinking into soft pillows, the feel of Gumshoe inside him fading to a pleasant ache. He moved again, just barely, just enough for a gasp, before easing himself off and falling to the bed beside him. Gumshoe’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and Edgeworth nuzzled against him, his head swimming. They lay there for a minute, hearts pounding together.

Gumshoe spoke first, swallowing hard. “T-that was really good.”

“You did seem to be enjoying it,” Edgeworth answered, smiling to himself.

“Um. Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “D-did you mean it?”

“Hmm.” He did, actually, he’d meant every word. It was harder to admit than he would’ve liked. “Well… just don’t let it go to your head.”

Gumshoe nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of Edgeworth’s head before slipping out of bed, presumably to clean up. Edgeworth waited, and when Gumshoe came back and bent down to pick up his clothes, he did something very strange. He reached out a hand and said, “Come back.”

Gumshoe stopped and stared. Edgeworth held his breath - what the hell was he doing? Boundaries. This was all so heavily dependent on boundaries. The more he pushed, the more likely this would all fall apart, and the worse it would be when it did. He should have let Gumshoe get dressed and leave, just like always. But somehow, his heart soared when Gumshoe smiled and let his clothes drop back to the floor. He climbed back into the bed and Edgeworth curled up against him, resting his head against his chest. Gumshoe’s arm fell across his waist, holding him close, and it was warm. Edgeworth closed his eyes, relishing in the sensation. It was… different. There wasn’t the thrill of sex, the throbbing burning pleasure, the bare raw crush of their bodies. He wasn’t desperate or heaving, he was fully in control of himself, and it was still wonderful to have another person in his bed. Gumshoe was warm, and Edgeworth let himself drift into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 9: Edgeworth and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Summary:

Edgeworth has a rough day, and the comfort he seeks out doesn’t quite turn out like he expects.

He’d woken with a headache, mild enough to only register as an annoyance, not a reason to go back to sleep. It was a struggle to get out of bed, and he resented having to face the morning. His brain felt sluggish, and tea wasn’t strong enough. There was nothing to be done but to endure a vile cup of coffee and push onward.

The day had gone downhill with a call from Franziska, just after noon. Franziska herself wasn’t as much a source of stress as she’d once been; their relationship was strained, but improving. The news she’d brought, however, was nothing but trouble. He’d been working with her on a case regarding a drug ring operating through the local airport, but a new development had taken it out of his jurisdiction. On top of that, his attention was required at the Von Karma estate, some fresh minutiae surfacing to keep him from severing ties with that part of his life. 

The rest of his day was filled with petty annoyances that left him with no time to improve his mood. Officer Meekins misplaced valuable evidence, and Edgeworth had to dig through the evidence locker himself to find it. It was the kind of task Detective Gumshoe should have handled, but he was nowhere to be found, and by the time he showed up something brown and foul-smelling had leaked onto Edgeworth’s suit jacket. He shoved the job into Gumshoe’s lap and retreated to his office, where he failed to scrub the stain out before it set.

At the end of the day, right before he could go home to dispose of his ruined jacket, some hotshot rookie prosecutor had shown up, demanding his attention in regards to his current case. The request may have been polite enough but Edgeworth could tell it was a challenge. Someone had told this kid that Edgeworth was the top prosecutor and he’d decided to test it for himself. Edgeworth eviscerated his case and sent him packing, but not before the assault of smug smiles and veiled comments implying he was past his prime. There was no satisfaction in tearing him down, just frustration that he’d disrupted Edgeworth’s job and delayed the end of this terrible day.

When he finally made it to the safety of his home, he skipped the wine and poured himself a generous glass of bourbon. Hard liquor wasn’t usually his drink of choice, but he didn’t have the patience for wine. The bourbon burned his throat and numbed his mind. Halfway down the glass, he had the idea to summon Gumshoe. It could be one pleasant moment to cap off a horrible day.

He’d started on his second glass while waiting for Gumshoe, so by the time his doorbell rang the world had lost a bit of its edge. The disturbance annoyed him. He’d asked for it, he’d expected it, and it would shortly result in feeling something good for a change. It still irritated him to have to extract himself from his seat to open the door.

“Evening, Mr. Edgeworth!” Gumshoe said, gratingly cheerful as always.

Edgeworth scowled as he stepped out of the way. He’d had plenty of time to grow accustomed to Gumshoe’s infinite good mood, but not tonight. “Detective,” he said, his voice barely a notch above a growl.

Gumshoe didn’t seem to pick up on his mood, because he sauntered into the building and straight to the kitchen like he owned the place. He’d gotten so comfortable in Edgeworth’s house, even more so than Edgeworth himself. It was just that easy for him.

Gumshoe helped himself to a beer and cracked it open. “So,” he said, taking a swig, “how was your day?”

The wrong fucking question. Gumshoe wasn’t here to chat. His brain was buzzing and he needed distraction. He snatched the beer out of Gumshoe’s hand and kissed him, hard, slamming him against the fridge.

Gumshoe turned his head to break the kiss, putting a hand up between them. “Woah, hey! Give a guy a little warning, huh?”

Edgeworth slammed the beer onto the counter. “God, just - just shut up, for once,” he snarled, following it up with a kiss that muffled Gumshoe’s response. It didn’t stop him from pushing, though, and Edgeworth stumbled back.

Gumshoe frowned, shoulders squaring up for a fight. “What’s gotten into you?” he bellowed.

“Shut up,” Edgeworth snapped, shame punching into his gut like a firework. What the hell was he doing? “If you’re not - you can leave. Just go. Just - “ His voice cracked and he bit his lip, turning away. “Leave.”

“Hang on, I’m not gonna - “

Gumshoe’s hand landed on Edgeworth’s shoulder and his reaction was instinctual, reflexively twisting and smacking the arm away. “Leave!” he shouted. “You’re going to leave, so just go already!” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Gumshoe before spinning on his heel and marching away. He went through the first door he reached and slammed it behind him, breathing heavily. It was his office, and he sank to the carpet, his back against the door. He took a shuddering breath, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms. What was wrong with him? He’d just wanted to relax, just wanted to feel good for once, spend a few moments not miserable and stressed out and guilty and instead he’d - he was here, instead.

His brain was fucking rotten.

There was a knock on the door. “Sir? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Edgeworth muttered. Then he cleared his throat and repeated it, a bit louder.

“You, uh.” Gumshoe’s voice was a bit muffled, but he was loud enough to be heard through the door. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” There was nothing he could imagine wanting to do less at the moment. He couldn’t even explain to himself why his insides felt like a mass of twisted cables, let alone tell Gumshoe. He didn’t know what he was feeling or how to articulate it or what he needed to do to make it go away. All he knew was that it felt bad. Rotten. Empty. “You should go,” he said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice.

“Can I come in?”

“No,” Edgeworth mumbled, feeling like a petulant child. This was ridiculous, really. What would Von Karma think if he saw Edgeworth acting this way? The punishment would be worse than anything Edgeworth was capable of doing to himself. He curled tighter, the thought bringing the taste of bile to his throat. Stupid. “Go home.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“We’re not going to be having a drink tonight,” Edgeworth said, the word dripping with contempt.

“I figured that out,” came Gumshoe’s answer. Then there was a strange soft sound, ending with a thump, and his next words came from barely over Edgeworth’s head. “But I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

Edgeworth wanted to be alone. Edgeworth deserved to be alone. He’d been stupid to ever hold out even the faintest hope that someday it might not be true.

“You don’t hafta talk about it,” Gumshoe continued after Edgeworth didn’t respond. “I’m not mad.”

Mad. Edgeworth snorted. He wasn’t scared of Gumshoe being angry, even if he would have fully deserved it. He owed the man an apology, still, but there was no use in an apology without explanation and any explanation would just be nonsense. How could he explain to Gumshoe what he couldn’t explain to himself? But he couldn’t go out there without apologizing. And he couldn’t apologize without explaining. And he couldn’t explain without understanding.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to focus on even breathing. Why couldn’t he have kept it together long enough to get Gumshoe in bed? Then he wouldn’t have to think. Instead he’d wound up here, with his brain buzzing and his heart twisting. Sex was easy, or at least it was with Gumshoe. There was more than a little comfort in the warmth of another body, the feeling of strong arms around him, the knowledge that he was safe. He’d robbed himself of that when he needed it most. By being a brat.

“Did you have dinner, sir?” Gumshoe asked through the door. “Sometimes I get grumpy when I’m hungry. Maybe it’d help to eat something yummy!”

Edgeworth sighed. If only it could be that simple. If only he could be like Gumshoe, satisfied by a good meal and a warm bed. If their roles were reversed, Gumshoe would already have opened the door, and they’d be together, the whole matter forgotten. If Gumshoe could do it, why couldn’t he? All he had to do was open the door. Simple enough.

He took a deep breath. He swallowed hard, choking down the black tangle in his throat. Before he could stop himself, he climbed halfway to his feet and turned the door handle.

The door flew open, knocking him back down, as Dick tumbled through. He’d been leaning against the other side, unprepared for the door to open, and wound up flat on his back, staring up at Edgeworth.

“Hiya,” he said.

Edgeworth closed his eyes. He crawled forward and curled up lying halfway across Gumshoe’s chest, one hand grabbing a twist of his shirt fabric. Pathetic. Mercifully Dick didn’t say anything, just stroked Edgeworth’s hair while Edgeworth breathed slow, deliberate breaths against his stomach, firm and soft and warm, rising and falling. It was immensely soothing; the tangle in his chest started to dissolve, the strands sliding apart until he couldn’t feel them anymore. They stayed that way for several minutes as Edgeworth surrendered to the simple comfort of being held.

Eventually the world began to expand again, and he was aware of his legs growing stiff on the cold floor and the discomfort Gumshoe must have been feeling. Edgeworth lifted himself, retreating as Gumshoe sat up in front of him.

“I - I’m sorry - “ Edgeworth started to say before he was interrupted by Dick pulling him into a strong hug, still on his knees.

“It’s okay,” he said, squeezing Edgeworth almost uncomfortably hard. “You’re okay. Just having a bad day.”

Edgeworth was too weak to protest. At least, that’s what he told himself as he let Gumshoe pull him to his feet and guide him to the living room. Somehow all the energy had left his body along with the tightness; he felt drained. So he didn’t resist when Gumshoe set him on the couch, or when he sat next to him.

“You oughta get some blankets out here,” Dick said as Edgeworth leaned against him. “Nothin’ better than a nice comfy blanket.”

Edgeworth hummed vaguely. His eyes were half-open, so he could see the TV flicker to life. The image on screen changed as Gumshoe flipped through channels, eventually settling on what he recognized as a Steel Samurai rerun, something from the Titanium Tournament arc. Not the best, but better than the interminable Iron Island that was basically all filler, and parts of it were important for setting up the iconic Copper Crucible. It was easier to think about that instead of the last few minutes, so he let his mind wander, focusing on the foreshadowing in the Vile Vassal’s cryptic speech and the way that the Dark Daroga’s fighting style hinted at his true identity. Aimless, pointless, and nearly as soothing as Dick’s arm around his shoulders.

He woke the next morning alone in bed.

Chapter 10: Control

Summary:

During a late night at the office, they take a break to relax.

It was absurdly late. The building was empty by now, save for a security guard and a handful of cleaning staff. One office was still occupied, however, with Edgeworth seated at his desk hunched over a file.

“The victim shouldn’t have been anywhere near a pool,” he mumbled, examining a crime scene photograph. “So why was there chlorine in his hair?”

“Does it matter?” asked Gumshoe from his place on the couch. “Why, I mean.”

“It might,” Edgeworth replied. “I’d rather be certain either way.” Any hole in a case was an opportunity for a certain attorney to turn it around, and while his rivalry with Wright may have softened, he still didn’t enjoy losing. Going in without an answer to every possible question was a fatal mistake.

“Uh… maybe he went for a swim?”

Edgeworth stared blankly at Gumshoe. “In January?”

“Yeah, one of those polar bear thingies. People do that.”

Edgeworth sighed. “I need a drink,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He looked up and saw Gumshoe looking at him with a wide-eyed expression he’d learned the meaning of, hopeful and eager and trying not to show it. “Not that kind of drink,” Edgeworth said, leaning back in his chair.

“O-of course not!” Gumshoe replied with a nervous laugh. Oh, but he looked disappointed, didn’t he? Edgeworth took a moment to consider, eyeing Gumshoe. Well, there was more than one way to vent frustration.

“Lock the door.”

Gumshoe sprang to his feet without hesitation. Edgeworth took the time to shrug off his jacket before rising and circling the desk. “So eager,” he said, sauntering towards Gumshoe. He reached out and grabbed his necktie, pulling him close. “Were you expecting this all along?”

“N-not exactly,” Gumshoe stammered.

Edgeworth chuckled. “Be honest.” With a controlling hand on the tie he exposed Gumshoe’s neck and slipped in to kiss it, drawing a soft gasp. Gumshoe bit his lip as Edgeworth’s lips and tongue worked the tender skin, and he was strongly tempted to leave a mark.

Gumshoe swallowed hard; Edgeworth could see the muscles straining under the skin. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Hmm.” Edgeworth ran his tongue down Gumshoe’s neck. “Keep calling me that.”

He could feel Gumshoe’s heartbeat accelerate under his lips. “Yes, sir,” he answered.

Edgeworth smiled. “On the couch.”

Gumshoe obeyed immediately, rushing to the couch and sitting heavily. Edgeworth moved more deliberately, himself; he paused in front of the couch, looming over Gumshoe. He took hold of the knot of the tie again and straddled Gumshoe’s lap. “I do appreciate your obedience,” he said, loosening the tie.

“Y-you do, sir?”

“I do.” He didn’t remove it completely, just enough to expose Gumshoe’s collarbone. He’d decided to leave a mark after all. “You certainly have your flaws,” he said, bending down, “but you have always excelled at following orders.”

“Thank you, sir.” Gumshoe’s skin trembled under Edgeworth’s inspection, his lips a hair’s breadth away.

Edgeworth picked his spot, the crest where collarbone met shoulder. “Keep quiet,” he purred. Then he lunged and bit down.

Gumshoe yelped, bucking underneath him, and Edgeworth was glad to have the necktie as a handle to stay on. He wrapped his other arm around Gumshoe’s waist, hanging on tight, as he fell back to the couch, whimpering.

Edgeworth sat back and tapped Gumshoe on the lips. “Quiet, I said. Someone might hear.”

“Yes, sir,” Gumshoe gasped. “Sorry, s - nnnngh!”

Edgeworth dove back in before Gumshoe could finish the word, forcing him to bite his lips to hold back another cry. He latched his lips around the same spot, dragging his tongue across it and sucking hard. Gumshoe twitched beneath him, one hand scrabbling at Edgeworth’s thigh and the other stifling his moans. The longer he sucked, the darker the mark, and the more sensitive this spot of skin would grow. Edgeworth wanted it dark, dark enough to be visible through the thin fabric of Gumshoe’s cheap shirts, dark enough for everyone to see and to know that Gumshoe was marked, Gumshoe was taken, Gumshoe was his -

He pulled away, panting, almost dizzy. Where had that come from? That wasn’t the deal; it never had been. But when he passed his fingertips over the deep purple bruise, drawing shivers from Gumshoe, he felt nothing but satisfaction. And oh, the way Gumshoe was looking at him, wide-eyed, mouth hanging open, pleading. God, what a look. Edgeworth reached forward and took hold of Gumshoe’s jaw, gently running his thumb over his bottom lip. He tilted his head and asked, “Should I keep going?”

“Yes, sir,” Gumshoe answered, swallowing. “Please, sir.”

Edgeworth laughed. He trailed his hand down Gumshoe’s chest, expertly popping open the buttons of his shirt. The fabric slid apart, revealing the thin undershirt, and he pushed it down over Gumshoe’s shoulders to expose more skin. This had the fortunate side effect of pinning Gumshoe’s arms to his sides, meaning he couldn’t resist when Edgeworth swooped down to attack his neck again.

Edgeworth was smart enough to be careful. The neck was dangerous territory, and Gumshoe’s collar could only hide so much. That didn’t stop him from flicking his tongue against Gumshoe’s jawline, the stubble rough against it. No marks there, where they’d be seen, although something about the idea appealed to him. He could just imagine Gumshoe, flustered, tugging at his collar, trying to deflect a prying question while Edgeworth watched. And if he did well enough at avoiding suspicion, a reward might be in order…

Edgeworth pulled away, sighing. “We should play this game again when we have more time,” he said, his eyes traveling down Gumshoe’s chest. “Would you like that?”

“Yes, sir!” Gumshoe tried to reach forward but was restrained by his clothes, and started wiggling out of them. Edgeworth chuckled and obliged him by pulling the layers of shirt and coat down. When his arms were finally free he grabbed Edgeworth by the waist and pulled. Edgeworth lost his balance, tumbling into Gumshoe’s lap and a deep, strong kiss. He closed his eyes, listening to Gumshoe moan into his mouth, feeling his greedy lips consuming his own.

After a moment, he pushed away. “I don’t recall telling you to do that,” he said, trying not to sound as breathless as he really was.

Gumshoe grinned. “Nope.”

“That’s no, sir.”

“No, sir.”

“Better.” Edgeworth slipped off the couch, standing. “Now, on your knees.”

Gumshoe fell forward, kneeling in front of Edgeworth. Edgeworth rested a hand on his head, twining his fingers through his hair and applying just enough pressure to keep him from looking up. “Do I have to tell you what to do next?”

“No, sir,” Gumshoe answered, head bowed. “But, um, if you wanted to, uh… s-sir?”

Edgeworth chuckled. “Oh, you are enjoying this.” He tightened his grip, his fingers curling into a fist around Gumshoe’s hair. For a moment, he faltered; he was actually going to have to say it now. That was the game, wasn’t it? He couldn’t be obeyed if he didn’t issue a command. Still, he hesitated, biting his lip.

Gumshoe looked up at him, big brown eyes sparkling, lips parted ever so slightly. Pleading.

“It’s simple,” Edgeworth said. “You are going to suck my cock.” His voice didn’t waver even as the vulgar word slipped out. Such a harsh word, so plain, so ugly. But Gumshoe’s mouth dropped open just a little more, ready, hungry. And there was a certain thrill to it, like the shiver of relief when the nails stopped scraping down the chalkboard. “While you are doing that,” Edgeworth continued, forcing himself to keep his breath level, “I will permit you to touch yourself. Once I have come,” and again, no hesitation, no weakness, confidence and command, “you will be allowed to finish yourself off. Understood?”

Gumshoe nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir!” he declared with the enthusiasm of a dog begging for a treat.

Edgeworth kept his hand on Gumshoe’s head as he used the other to undo the fastening on his pants. He’d thoroughly enjoyed their time together so far, so when he tugged down his underwear his cock sprang out, already hard, standing tall. Gumshoe practically lunged for it, taking it in one deep swallow, and now Edgeworth was the one biting back his moans as he sank into Gumshoe’s mouth. His fingers twitched in Gumshoe’s hair. Gumshoe’s tongue wrapped around his shaft, and his lips pulled tight, wet and hot and god, so good, so fucking good. A belt buckle jingled, and Gumshoe’s moans reverberated against Edgeworth’s flesh as he dug his hand beneath his own waistband. With deep, steady breaths, Edgeworth placed his other hand on Gumshoe’s head and began moving his hips. Gumshoe grew still, his mouth hanging loose, and Edgeworth began to thrust, taking control and oh, this was all about control, after all, control so deep that Edgeworth could fuck him in the face and still get a “please.”

Edgeworth pushed deeper with each thrust, working his way into Gumshoe’s mouth until he could sink himself up to the hilt. He knew Gumshoe could take it; he knew he’d want it. The whole time Gumshoe’s tongue caressed him and his lips cling maddeningly, enticing him deeper, harder, faster. His orgasm swelled quickly inside him and he surrendered to it, seizing Gumshoe’s head and pumping his hips until he burst, swallowing his own cries as he spilled down Gumshoe’s throat. Gumshoe sighed, eyes closed, as Edgeworth shuddered, clinging to his head for support when his knees threatened to buckle. When he could breathe again, he pulled out. A trickle of his seed dripped from the corner of Gumshoe’s gaping mouth, running down his chin, and his tongue flicked toward it like he couldn’t bear to waste it. He was gazing up at Edgeworth from half-lidded eyes, and his arm was working furiously and he was panting and whining and it was a shame Edgeworth had already finished, because Gumshoe was begging for more and Edgeworth longed to give it to him.

Edgeworth dropped to one knee, now on eye level with Gumshoe, and reached out to cup his chin. With his thumb, he wiped those stray drops off Gumshoe’s stubble. On impulse, he lifted his thumb to Gumshoe’s lip, and Gumshoe responded by dipping his head to close his mouth around it, sucking it clean with a moan. Edgeworth removed his thumb and replaced it with his mouth, kissing Gumshoe deep, tasting himself on his tongue. Gumshoe moaned into him, and whined, and tensed and froze and stopped breathing and cried out, muffled by Edgeworth’s lips. When his body stopped shaking Edgeworth released him, and Gumshoe sank back gasping for air. Edgeworth looked down, and Gumshoe’s fist was streaked with white.

He smirked. “Wait here,” he said, giving Gumshoe a quick peck as he rose to his feet. He fetched a box of tissues from his desk and returned, kneeling again. He took Gumshoe’s hand and set about cleaning it, methodically wiping each finger. Gumshoe had been decidedly less tidy than he had, and there were dark spots on his pants that Edgeworth could only dab at, but he did his best. Finally he returned to Gumshoe’s face, and Gumshoe gazed at him with a dopey smile as he cleaned up the last traces.

“How are you feeling?” Edgeworth asked, trying not to look too deeply into Gumshoe's eyes. His heart was still pounding.

“Good,” Gumshoe mumbled, still smiling, half-asleep. “Was I good?”

“Yes,” Edgeworth answered. He stretched up to kiss Gumshoe on the forehead. “You were very good.”

“That’s good.” Gumshoe started to get up, and Edgeworth gently redirected him to the couch. “Wanna be good for you, sir.”

Edgeworth fastened Gumshoe’s pants, straightening him up as much as he could manage. Then he realized he was still hanging out and quickly tucked himself back in, ignoring the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. It was ridiculous, considering the circumstances, but, well, at the time it had seemed perfectly reasonable. Things changed quickly.

Gumshoe flopped onto the couch so heavily it was a wonder he didn’t break the damn thing. Still, it had gone through worse, especially since this extracurricular arrangement had started. There were far worse places for a post-coital nap.

Edgeworth didn’t have time for such a thing, and strangely, he didn’t really want one. He felt relaxed, to be sure, but not in the same way that Gumshoe was, already asleep. No, Edgeworth had work to do yet, and the break had been good. He returned to his desk, examining the papers he’d abandoned there, and settled back into his chair. Hopefully he could sort this thing out before Gumshoe woke up, or else he’d need another pot of tea.

Chapter 11: On a Rainy Night

Summary:

Gumshoe’s visit doesn’t go exactly as planned.

It had been nearly a month since their last visit, but Edgeworth had barely registered the length of the hiatus. There’d been an attempt, last weekend, but Gumshoe had turned him down - which was fine. Edgeworth could take care of himself. Tonight, though, he thought he might give it another shot. 

His message to Gumshoe had been responded to with a yes, so now he just had to wait for the man himself. Edgeworth sat in his living room, a glass of wine largely ignored on the table next to him, passing the time with a book. Not a very good book, really, some ridiculous nonsense about cowboys that Wright had recommended. But it was easy to read, and he wouldn’t mind when he was interrupted. His home was quiet, with nothing but the gentle sound of rain from outside. 

His doorbell rang, a pleasant chime, and he closed the book and set it down. About time; the weather wasn’t that bad. He was half-considering scolding Gumshoe for tardiness when he pulled open the door and changed his mind.

The rain had flattened his hair and darkened the shoulders of his coat. Water dripped miserably off his pale face, which really accentuated the dark circles under his eyes and the red of his nose. He tried to smile, but it lacked his usual spark and looked more like a rubber mask.

“Good God,” said Edgeworth, stepping back, “what’s happened to you?”

Dick’s shoulders were already slumped, which made it all the more pathetic when they drooped further. “Is it that bad?” he said, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Sorry, sir, I tried to clean up…”

“Clean…? You look like death! Come in,” he said, grabbing Dick by the arm and pulling him through the door. “You’re already soaked.”

Gumshoe stood where Edgeworth put him, unresisting as Edgeworth pulled the sodden coat off his shoulders. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “My car wouldn’t start, so I had to take the bus, and it was kinda late.”

Edgeworth hung the coat to dry and turned on Gumshoe. “Look at you,” he muttered, examining him. “You’re sick.”

“Aw, you don’t gotta worry about me, sir - “

“You’re sick,” Edgeworth repeated more sternly, glaring at Gumshoe. He reached up and held the back of his hand to Dick’s forehead. “How long has this been going on?”

“I - I guess I wasn’t feelin’ too good yesterday,” Gumshoe replied, straining his eyes to look up at Edgeworth’s hand. “And I was hopin’ I’d feel better…”

Edgeworth shook his head. Dick’s forehead was warm, but not worryingly so. Still, he’d have to dig around, see if he had a thermometer somewhere. “Come on.” He led Dick to the living room and firmly guided him to the couch. “Take your shirt off,” he commanded. “It’s soaking.”

He left Dick to the task and disappeared into his bedroom. Somewhere in here he had to have something Dick could wear. After a few minutes he unearthed an old t-shirt, lost in a corner of the closet, something he’d been given once as a promotion for… something. He’d kept it on the off chance he might need rags. There was no hope he’d have pants anywhere near Dick’s size. Socks he could do, though, and a towel. On his way back he swung through his bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet, unearthing a thermometer and a bottle of ibuprofen. He carried his prizes back into the living room where Dick sat, looking guilty, shirt removed.

“You don’t gotta - “ he started.

Edgeworth pinched the fabric of his undershirt. “Wet,” he declared. “Take that off, too.” He laid the bundle down on the couch while Dick obediently wiggled out of the white tanktop, letting it fall to the ground. Edgeworth handed him the towel. “I’m afraid I don’t have much that will fit you, but I did my best.”

Dick rubbed his head with the towel before letting it fall around his shoulders, leaving his head a tousled mess. “Please, sir, you - you - “ He stopped, mouth wide, and after a moment sneezed monstrously loud. “Sorry,” he mumbled, wiping his nose on the back of his arm.

“Gesundheit. The pants, too,” Edgeworth added. “All your wet clothes.”

“But it’s cold.”

“I’ll get you a blanket.” Edgeworth’s coffee table had a top that hinged, and he’d never been sure what to put in it. Now there were spare blankets here, fluffy and warm. He pulled one out, and also snagged a box of tissues from the nearest bathroom while he was up.

Edgeworth’s spare t-shirt was a little tight across Dick’s chest. He’d taken off his pants as requested, which meant he was sitting there in his boxers and a pair of Edgeworth’s socks, which was somehow more embarrassing than if he’d been naked. Not that any of this should be embarrassing - he’d certainly seen Gumshoe with fewer clothes than this. Nevertheless, when he draped the blanket over Gumshoe’s exposed legs he seemed to relax, or maybe he was just enjoying the warmth. Either way, he sank into the cushions, sniffling.

“Thanks,” he said. “‘m sorry. I wasn’t - “

“Shh.” Edgeworth bent over him and stuck the thermometer between his lips. “Hold this under your tongue.”

Dick nodded. While they waited, Edgeworth gathered up Gumshoe’s clothes and draped them over the back of an armchair. They’d need to be washed, of course, but he couldn’t leave them on the floor. He also had time to go to the kitchen and turn on the electric kettle before the thermometer beeped.

When he returned to the living room, Dick was peering at it. “100? Is that good?”

“Hmm.” Edgeworth took it and read the screen for himself: 100.6. “No,” he said, “but it could be worse.”

“Oh.”

“Have you eaten?” Edgeworth asked, mentally going through his sparse pantry. What were the odds he had a can of chicken soup kicking around somewhere? Low. Extremely low. Best he could do would probably be bouillon broth.

Gumshoe looked glumly down at his stomach. “No,” he confessed, “but my tummy’s kinda not feeling great anyway.”

Edgeworth shook his head. “Can you manage a cup of tea? You need liquids.”

Dick shook his head. “You really don’t gotta - “

This time Edgeworth silenced him quite effectively with just a glare.

It only took Edgeworth a moment in the kitchen to prepare the tea. There was a peppermint blend in his cabinet that he wasn’t personally too fond of, but it was supposed to be good for nausea. He scooped the leaves into a strainer and poured the water into a large mug rather than a proper teacup. Then he carried the whole setup back into the living room.

“Give it a minute to steep,” he said, handing the mug to Dick, who cradled it in his hands. Then he picked up the bottle of ibuprofen, unscrewed it, and shook out a couple pills. He deposited those in Dick’s palm and stood back, inspecting. Dick was dry, and warm, and clothed (mostly). He had tea for the nausea, ibuprofen for the fever, and a box of tissues for his nose. Some decongestant probably wouldn’t go amiss, if he’d had any. As it was, it seemed Dick was just about as taken care of as he could manage.

“Now,” he said, “rest.”

Dick sniffed the peppermint tea. “Didn’t you wanna… y’know?”

“Did I…?” Edgeworth shook his head, taken aback. “Of course not! Look at you, you’re miserable! Why wouldn’t you stay home and rest if you were sick?”

“I dunno…” Dick took a sip of the tea. “I guess, I mean, last time you asked me to come over I couldn’t make it, and I didn’t wanna disappoint you two times in a row…”

Edgeworth sighed. “You need to take care of yourself,” he said. “Did you honestly think you’d show up like this and I’d just - just proceed?”

Dick shrank. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize for being sick.”

“But you wanted - “

Edgeworth sighed again. Whatever he’d wanted when he’d called Dick over here, it was completely gone now. And not just because the runny nose and sunken eyes were bad for his libido.  “You need rest,” he said. “Drink your tea.”

“Yes, sir.” Dick sipped at the tea.

“Did - would you like to watch television, or something?” Edgeworth asked, glancing around for the remote. It had to be around here somewhere.

“That’s okay,” Dick said, staring into the mug. He hadn’t pulled the tea leaves out; it was undoubtedly bitter by now. “I just wanna… I dunno. Be quiet.”

“Suit yourself.” Miles turned to realize he’d covered his armchair with dirty clothes. Instead, he sat on the couch next to Dick. A bit of maneuvering and somehow he wound up under the blanket, sharing it with Dick. Dick sighed contentedly, leaning against him, and Miles did nothing to stop it, allowing the sick man his small indulgence. The room grew quiet again, the rain outside still pattering, but now there was an extra layer of Dick’s breathing and occasional sniffles. Miles reached over and picked up the book he’d been reading; it was easy enough to find his place. After a few minutes, Dick’s breathing grew steady. Miles glanced over to see his eyes were closed, the half-full mug dangling dangerously from his hands. Carefully, Miles took the mug and set it on the end table.

Eventually, he would wake Dick up enough to shepherd him to the bedroom for a proper sleep. For now, though, he allowed him to sleep, here on the couch, warm and comfortable.

Chapter 12: Trust

Summary:

Gumshoe makes an embarrassing discovery, and Edgeworth makes a strange decision.

Somewhere along the way, they’d stopped using Gumshoe’s apartment. Gumshoe had taken to asking to come over, instead, which suited Edgeworth just fine: Gumshoe’s apartment was… bad. He was more than happy to keep a supply of beer and condoms if it meant he didn’t have to spend time in that rathole.

This was one such occasion; Gumshoe had messaged Edgeworth some hours ago, and now here they were, naked on his bed. Edgeworth lay back, flushed and eager, waiting for Dick to finish applying a condom so they could move on.

“Uh-oh.”

It wasn’t something he wanted to hear Dick say at the best of times, and this was not the best of times. “What?” he demanded, sitting up quickly.

“Uh…” Dick held up the condom. It dangled uselessly from his hand, a clear rip up the side. “It broke.”

Edgeworth sighed. “Then use another.”

“I think that was the last one.”

Edgeworth frowned. He leaned forward and picked up the little cardboard box - empty. “I have more.” His shoebox of toys had migrated from the closet to under the bed for ease of access, so it was simple enough for him to lean over and fish it out. He pulled it into his lap and flipped off the lid. “Here,” he said, pulling out a couple options. “There should be something in the right size…”

He trailed off as he noticed that Dick was staring at the box. Edgeworth glanced down and realized what he’d just revealed. Scattering the condoms, he fumbled for the lid and failed to slam it down onto the box, instead spilling its contents across the covers. 

Before he could scoop them back into the box, Gumshoe reached for the toys. He picked something up, letting it dangle from his fingers. “Woah,” he said, examining it. It was the ball gag Edgeworth had bought on a whim, which he’d promptly hidden in the box and never made use of, except as a prop for some ambitious fantasies. Regardless, it was very different to see it hanging in front of him while Gumshoe turned it over.

“I-it’s not - “ Edgeworth cleared his throat and started gathering what he could. “These are private.”

“I never figured you for that kinda guy!”

“Yes, well.” Edgeworth tried not to yank the ball gag from Gumshoe’s grip, but he was perhaps a bit more forceful than necessary. “I can hardly be calling you every time I’m feeling amorous.”

“I’m not judgin’, sir.” Edgeworth cringed as Gumshoe picked up one of the dildos - his favorite - and held it up next to his erection. “Hey, this one’s like me!”

“Purely a coincidence,” Edgeworth mumbled. His own enthusiasm had flagged with this fresh humiliation, and he shifted the box in his lap to more securely cover himself. It was good that Gumshoe didn’t seem put off, but right now Edgeworth was rather wishing he’d go away. 

Gumshoe grabbed another item from the bedspread, this one a tangle of black straps. “What do you even do with half this stuff?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Edgeworth snapped, finally out of patience. “I’ve never used it.”

Gumshoe frowned, looking back at Edgeworth. “Huh?”

“I haven’t used it,” Edgeworth repeated, grabbing the contraption and shoving it back in the box.

“Why not? I mean, why’d you buy stuff if you weren’t gonna use it?”

“Because I - “ Edgeworth furrowed his brow, finally fitting the lid back on the box. “I just - I simply wanted - I - it’s none of your concern what I spend my money on.”

Gumshoe sat back, looking at him in silence for a moment, and somehow it was even more embarrassing than the contents of the box. Finally, he said, “Do you wanna try it?”

Edgeworth froze, all his blush disappearing as the color drained from his face instead. He’d definitely had Gumshoe in mind for some of these purchases, fueled as they may have been by lust and alcohol. But he’d never imagined it could be a real possibility. He’d never expected the man to offer. And now here he was, with a box full of fantasies, and a man he trusted offering to share them.

“No,” he said, and he wasn’t sure why. Gumshoe had a point; why would he buy the things with no intention of using them? And Gumshoe was volunteering, so there wasn’t a question of consent. But at this moment, the thought of Gumshoe kneeling in front of him communicating with nothing but his eyes… he trusted Gumshoe, he knew that, had no question about it. But for Gumshoe to trust him just as much…

“No,” he said, but it was soft. “Not yet.” He let his hand rest on the lid of the box, wondering at himself. Why did he feel so warm?

After a minute, Gumshoe cleared his throat and Edgeworth looked up. “Should, uh, should I go? I shouldn’t’ve said somethin’.”

“No.” Before Dick could move, Miles reached forward and grabbed his hand. He pushed the box to the side and crawled forward on his knees to kiss Dick. “Stay. We’re not done here.”

A slow grin spread over Dick’s face as he pressed back against Miles’s kiss, guiding him onto his back again. There was a moment’s pause as Miles fumbled with the box again - after all that, they’d neglected to get a condom out - but he handed the packet to Dick and lay back again, eyes closed. He was pleasantly surprised by Dick’s hand wrapping around his cock, and hummed his approval. It didn’t take him long to be back to full mast, especially when Dick bowed his head and took his cock into his mouth, sucking sloppily. Soon Miles was biting back moans, the brief awkwardness of a few minutes past forgotten as he scrambled at the sheets for something to hold on to.

Evidently he’d gotten back to where Dick wanted him because the mouth withdrew, and a second later he heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper. He lifted his head to watch best he could as Dick reared back, attention focused on applying the condom. “Is everything okay?” he asked, just shy of panting.

Dick nodded and gave a big thumbs up. “Fits perfect!” Then he bent back down, his hands gently pushing Miles’s knees apart, and Miles finally let a groan slip as he felt Dick position himself. “You ready?”

“Yes,” said Miles, and then the next thing he said was a long deep moan as Dick pushed inside him, one slow deep thrust until he was in to the hilt, stretching Miles so far it was almost painful. They both held there for the space of a few breaths, letting the world settle around them.

Then Dick started to thrust and Miles couldn’t hold anything back.

He was well aware of the sounds he was making, how they echoed off the walls in rhythm with Dick’s grunts, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Hell, he could barely keep from screaming. Dick moved inside him and every thrust pushed him further and further like pumping up a balloon, and he felt hollow and full of light. And then, almost frustratingly soon, he burst, and he was screaming now as he wrapped his legs around Dick’s waist pulling him in, deeper, closer, as he came on his own stomach clawing at Dick to be closer, closer, closer. Dick shuddered, and Miles was so sensitive that he could feel his release inside him. He held him there, close, deep, holding him tight. When Dick’s arms gave way he dropped to his elbows, close enough for Miles to reach up and grab the sides of his face and kiss him, rapid, hungry, as desperate for it as he was for air.

In a moment exhaustion caught up to him and his arms fell to the sides. Dick groaned, sliding to the side before collapsing, and Miles sighed as he felt him slip out. They lay together, catching their breath, with Dick’s head resting on Miles’s shoulder. Miles was aware that they needed to clean up, before they both got sticky and cold. For now, though, he bent his elbow enough to let the tips of his fingers play through Dick’s hair as they rested.

“We can try that stuff if you want,” Dick mumbled.

“Another time, perhaps,” Miles answered.

Dick muttered something unintelligible.  Miles pressed a kiss against his forehead. Another time. When he’d adjusted to the idea that Dick trusted him.

When he could trust himself.

 

Notes:

gonna curtail the disappointment ahead of time: “another time” isn’t “within the remaining chapters of this fic” sorryyyy

Chapter 13: Dinner

Summary:

Edgeworth takes Gumshoe out to dinner as a reward and winds up receiving a “reward” himself.

The package had arrived shortly after lunch, addressed to the office of Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. Gumshoe had brought it straight to Edgeworth, and was now peering over the desk to see the contents. Edgeworth frowned at the engraved plaque, still lying on its wrappings on his desk. “I’m not sure I know what this is about,” he admitted.

“The thing at that arcade?” Gumshoe supplied helpfully, craning his neck trying to catch a glimpse from the far side of the desk. “With the, uh, the missing kid?”

“Ah.” Edgeworth looked up, nodding as the memory returned. It had been a simple case, although the missing child had added urgency to the investigation. Still, he wasn’t sure why that particular case merited an award for “Outstanding Service,” as the plaque put it.

“That kid’s family was real thankful,” Gumshoe continued. “I bet they told the chief how good you did!”

“Hmm.” Edgeworth tapped his fingers idly on the surface of the plaque. In truth, Gumshoe was largely responsible for the happy ending to that incident; he was the one who actually found the child, after all, and cared for him while the investigation was underway. Edgeworth had simply prosecuted the person responsible. But there was no mention of Gumshoe on the plaque. The detective rarely received the credit he deserved for good work. Edgeworth would make sure it was reflected in his next salary review, but a more personal reward was in order.

“Detective,” he said, “I’d like to buy you dinner.”

Gumshoe’s face lit up. “Wow, really? Y-you don’t have to do that, sir!”

“I insist. A bit of celebration is in order. Anywhere you’d like.”

Gumshoe paused for a moment, forehead knitted in thought. “Anywhere?” he said. “Even the Jukebox?”

Edgeworth recoiled like he’d been slapped. “The - no!” The Jukebox was a diner under an overpass, open 24-7, serving exclusively greasy eggs and burgers. Perfect for hangovers and 3am cups of coffee. Edgeworth had never been, because he was sure he’d have a heart attack from the fumes. “On second thought, I’ll choose. Just be ready after work.”

“Yes, sir!” Gumshoe snapped a salute and Edgeworth shook his head. 

“You have paperwork to do,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket to make a reservation. “Back to work, Detective. I’ll see you tonight.”

A reservation turned out to be completely unnecessary. From the moment Edgeworth handed his keys to the valet, it was obvious that for whatever reason it was an extremely slow night. The host greeted them enthusiastically and guided them immediately to a corner booth, where high red velvet walls made them feel even more isolated. The deep brown leather seat squeaked as Gumshoe shuffled in, gazing around him in wonder.

“Wow!” he said. “This place is way nicer than the Jukebox!”

Edgeworth held back a snort of laughter as the host handed over their menus and left the table. “I’m glad it could meet your standards.”

Gumshoe looked out of place, to say the least. At least his trench coat had been left at the coat check, but the suit under it was thin at the elbows and straining in the shoulders. His brown shirt had the shadows of old stains and Edgeworth had to resist the urge to lean across the table and fix his tie. But his face bore an expression of delight like a kid in Candyland, and that alone made Edgeworth glad he’d done this. He might even do it again. Maybe he could do something about the clothes first.

The waiter arrived promptly, launching into the usual spiel. Edgeworth ordered a decent glass of Cabernet Sauvignon for himself and tried not to notice the waiter’s look of surprise at whatever cheap brand of beer Gumshoe requested. Once the waiter left, Gumshoe settled down to the serious business of examining the menu.

“Hey,” he said, frowning, “they don’t have prices on here.”

“No, they don’t,” Edgeworth replied without looking up. “But dinner’s on me. Order whatever you’d like.”

“But what if I get something real expensive by accident?”

Edgeworth peered over the edge at Gumshoe, who looked genuinely distressed. “Order whatever you’d like,” he repeated calmly. “The steaks are excellent. Do you like steak?”

“Y-yeah, but I can’t really afford it…”

“I can.” Edgeworth leaned forward and tapped on Gumshoe’s menu. The ribeye was, in fact, rather expensive, and large enough to serve two. It was also one of the best things Edgeworth had eaten in this city and he had few doubts about Gumshoe’s ability to eat the whole portion himself. “My recommendation.”

“If you’re sure, sir…” Gumshoe replied, still frowning.

Edgeworth sat back down. “Trust me on this,” he said, turning his attention back to the menu. “Although I can’t vouch for how well it will pair with your drink.”

When the waiter returned, carrying their drinks, they placed their order. Gumshoe followed Edgeworth’s advice on ordering the rib eye, and after having considered the other options, Edgeworth did the same. Gumshoe visibly relaxed when Edgeworth placed his order. Even with Edgeworth’s reassurances, he still seemed worried about money. And it wasn’t even his money! On a whim, Edgeworth requested a full bottle of wine instead of the glass, and an appetizer of beef tartare. He wanted it made clear that money was not a concern tonight, and Gumshoe wasn’t costing him anything he wasn’t willing to give.

The message seemed to come across, because Gumshoe looked a little less guilty by the time the waiter took their menus away. He looked around, examining the opulent decor - dark, with low lighting and thick plush carpeting. Luxurious. Possibly even romantic.

“Boy, I don’t think I’ve ever been somewhere this fancy.” He looked back at Edgeworth expectantly.

Edgeworth was struck by the realization that he had no idea what to say. Had he ever really spent time with the detective like this? Yes, they were together constantly, but there was always a reason. At work, there were cases and trials, witnesses, evidence, theories, a million things to talk about. They’d been together in more casual contexts recently, but small talk was just a prelude to sex. Now here he was, at dinner with a man he’d worked with for years, a man he’d been sleeping with for months, and realizing he didn’t know anything about him.

He took a sip of his wine. “So,” he said, setting down the glass. He hesitated, toying with the wine glass; he’d hoped something would have occurred to him once he started talking, and it hadn’t. “Do you like the restaurant?” he asked desperately.

“It’s real nice,” Gumshoe answered. “I like these seats.” He bounced on the leather cushion. “Although it’s maybe a little dark. But the walls are cool! Don’t think I’ve ever seen velvet on walls before.”

“It’s a little outdated,” Edgeworth answered. “But then, in another ten years it’ll be classic.”

“Yup.”

Silence. Edgeworth took another drink. So did Gumshoe. This felt like a bad date. It wasn’t a date, of course, but it was still going poorly. He couldn’t talk about work, because this was supposed to be a reward. Had he read any books lately? Gone to any movies? No, because he rarely had time, he barely even watched TV -

TV!

“So!” he said suddenly, and Gumshoe jumped a little. “How did that singing show you mentioned turn out? I never did get a chance to watch it.”

“Oh! It was real good actually! The guy who won turned out to be an actor. I never even knew he could sing, but wow, he could sing!”

“Did you figure it out?”

“Nah, my guess was totally off.”

“Ah. Well, maybe next time.”

“Yeah. Next season you should watch too! I bet we could figure it out together.”

Edgeworth hummed noncommittally.

“It’s not like it’s impossible,” Gumshoe continued. “I mean Sarah figured it out, and now she won’t stop rubbing it in.”

Edgeworth perked up. “Sarah?”

“My sister.”

Aha! “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Oh! Yeah.” Gumshoe scratched the back of his head. “She’s a few years younger than me. Just started college, and smart as a whip! Heck, she could even be a pretty good lawyer if she wanted!” He was beaming with pride, and Edgeworth found himself wondering if she really was smart, or just seemed smart to Gumshoe.

“What school is she attending?”

“Ah, state college back home. She got a full scholarship!”

Edgeworth arched an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

“Yeah, I mean, she wasn’t that excited because their - she’s doing biology or something? Or maybe computers. Chemistry computers. Anyway their department is just okay, but you can’t turn down a full ride! Plus it keeps her close to ma, which is good, especially since I’m so far now.”

Edgeworth took a moment to make a mental map of all the conversation paths that had just been revealed. He leaned back with his glass of wine and started with, “So where is ‘back home,’ exactly?”

Over the next few minutes Edgeworth received a brief biography. Home was halfway across the country, in a small house just barely inside of rural. Dick’s mother and father still lived there, in the same house he’d grown up in, and had every intention to die there. His father had had a series of jobs before settling into a comfortable position working at an appliance warehouse, and in the evening he sat in the same chair as he’d sat in for 20 years and watched TV. His mother was kind, and loved to bake, and volunteered at the local animal shelter, and occasionally made meals for the homeless. She’d raised the kids almost single-handedly. He also had two more sisters, bringing the count to three. One was a year older and lived in Seattle with a woman their mother still insisted was just a roommate. The other was a couple years younger, married with two kids and a third on the way, to a guy who was just a real good guy and took good care of her. Also, there was a family dog, the Seattle sister had two cats, and the youngest had some kind of lizard that she’d successfully smuggled into her dorm room but their mom didn’t know about it yet and she wasn’t probably wasn’t gonna be too happy about it, but at least it stayed in a cage, unlike the time Dick had found what he thought was a stray dog and brought it home and hoo boy, that was when he learned how loud his momma could yell and also how fast animal control would come if you told them your son had kidnapped a bear cub. And then there was the time that his oldest sister had a friend who had hamsters, and the hamsters had babies, and she thought it was just a little thing, how much trouble could it be? But then it got out -

Miles watched Dick ramble, fascinated on so many levels. The man actually seemed to like his family. He knew what they were doing, who they hung out with, had nearly daily communication with them. Miles wasn’t even sure what country Franziska was in, and Dick knew his sister’s roommate’s brother’s name. There was also a previously unimagined capacity for data storage; with very little prodding, Dick could name his third grade teacher, his little sister’s first boyfriend, his older sister’s first “roommate.” He knew his dad’s favorite baseball team and what brand of beer he drank. And he called his mother at least once a week, not out of obligation or guilt, but because he wanted to. It was hard to imagine something Miles could relate to less. And through it all, he had that - that spark, that something. He was happy. Unabashedly happy. Unreserved, unashamed, happy. He was proud of his family, and excited to tell Miles about them, and happy to be here, to be talking, to be alive.

Miles wondered if it was possible for him to be that happy about something.

The appetizer arrived, finally putting an end to Dick’s speech. “Uh, what’s this again?” he asked as the waiter set down a white tray with a few circles of toast and a neat stack of minced beef, topped with a small egg yolk.

“Beef tartare,” answered the waiter, “with quail egg, and brioche toast. Would you like another drink?”

“Sure,” Dick answered, peering at the neat stack of minced beef on the plate. “I think you guys forgot to cook this, though.”

Miles shook his head as the waiter walked away. “It’s supposed to be raw. Try it.” He scooped a small portion demonstratively onto one of the small discs of toast and raised it to his mouth. The toast crunched between his teeth in contrast to the beef, cut so finely it could have been a paste and seasoned just enough to highlight the flavor of the meat. Dick watched warily, but when Miles didn’t immediately spit it out or collapse he reached for the plate. Now Miles was the one watching as Dick plopped a sizable scoop of the beef tartare onto a toast.

Miles lifted a hand in warning. “Maybe you should - “

There wasn’t any point. Dick tossed the whole thing into his mouth in one bite. He chewed slowly, then closed his eyes and let out a satisfied moan. Miles had heard him make similar noises before, although in very different circumstances. He took a sip of his wine to distract himself from the thought while Dick worked his way through the mouthful. “That’s really good,” he said when he’d finally swallowed it. “I mean, that’s - wow! I never would’ve thought.”

“It’s a step up from your normal fare, I take it?” Miles replied, subtly pushing the plate towards Dick. It really only had enough on it for a few bites anyway, and Dick seemed to be enjoying it so much.

“Oh, yes, sir!” Dick declared as he grabbed another slice of toast and piled the remaining tartare onto it. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, instant noodles are great, but this is - mmm!” He capped off his statement by eating the slice and produced another moan, one Miles had a bit more trouble ignoring. He held back any comments, however, and refused to acknowledge any other reactions he was having. The man enjoyed a good meal. Nothing wrong with that.

A sudden movement at his shoulder startled him and he barely kept himself from jumping. He’d been too focused on Dick to notice the waiter approaching. “Here you are,” he said, placing a fresh beer on the table. “Anything else you need?”

“Not at the moment,” Miles replied. “Thank you.” Actually he could think of something, but it wasn’t the waiter who could give it to him.

He took a breath, chastising himself as the waiter once again departed. For his mind to even go that far - what was wrong with him? It was completely uncalled for and highly inappropriate. Neither the time nor the place for that kind of thought. He forced himself to look away from Gumshoe’s lips, ruddy and gleaming.

“Wow,” Gumshoe was saying, apparently oblivious, “that was really good. Do you eat like that all the time?”

“Not always,” Miles answered. “Honestly, I rarely bother with eating out.”

“Oh man, I could eat a whole bowl of that stuff!”

Miles chuckled. “The main course is still on its way.”

“If it’s even half as good as that stuff…”

Miles was spared from having to respond by the return of the waiter. “Let me just get that out of your way,” he said, reaching across the table to gather up the now-bare plate. “Everything okay so far?”

“Yes,” Miles said, leaning back with a twinge of irritation as the waiter blocked him off from Gumshoe. “Thank you.”

“Great. Your food will be out in just a few minutes.”

Edgeworth waited for the waiter to leave with pursed lips. He was not in the mood for a third person intervening. As a matter of fact he was in a very specific mood, one from which he should probably be disentangling himself. But instead he found himself staring at Gumshoe’s throat as the man drank his beer, a trickle of foam escaping the corner of his mouth, then wiped his lips on the back of his hand with a hearty sigh. 

Edgeworth didn’t know how to handle being horny in public. Hell, he barely knew how to handle it at home, and here he was with his mind far away from dinner. He had to - there had to be something else, something he could do. What did men do in situations like this? Baseball? Something about baseball. “You mentioned a baseball team,” he said, hoping desperately that his voice wasn’t wobbling. “Are you a fan?”

“Eh, I don’t know if I’m a fan, exactly.” Gumshoe shrugged. “I’ll watch a game if it’s on, and it’s always nice to go if you get the chance, but I only follow the team as much as my dad tells me about it.”

“I see. I’m not much of one for sports myself.”

“No offense, sir, but I kinda had that figured out. But have you ever been to a game?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“It’s way better when you’re actually there. We should go sometime!” His grin fell. “I guess it’s kinda too late for that. Next year, maybe.”

Edgeworth’s tepid response was overruled by the arrival of the waiter, this time mercifully carrying a tray laden with two massive steaks. Gumshoe’s eyes went wide and he gripped the edge of the table, inhaling deep. Both steaks were covered in a beautiful deep brown sear and a layer of seasoning, sea salt and peppercorns. They were large enough to overtake the platters they were served on, hanging over the edges; the ample servings of fingerling potatoes and roasted asparagus went unnoticed on their side plates. Edgeworth took a sniff as well, savoring the rich aroma, but he was much more interested in the hungry expression on Gumshoe’s face.

“Anything else I can get for you?”

Edgeworth tried not to glare at the waiter who’d interrupted his reverie. “No, thank you.” He reminded himself that the man was just doing his job, trying to be helpful, and had no idea how he was bothering Edgeworth. Because Edgeworth shouldn’t have been so bothered in the first place. Still, he waited impatiently for the man to walk away.

That distraction was why he wasn’t looking when Gumshoe took his first bite, but god, he could hear it. Gumshoe groaned, deep and low, the exact same sound he made when he buried his cock in Edgeworth. It set Edgeworth’s blood burning, and he struggled to stay calm as he turned back toward Gumshoe.

He didn’t succeed, because Gumshoe’s face was the picture of ecstasy. His eyes fluttered almost closed, his eyebrows pinched, his lips curled, and he moaned again, this time a bit higher, a bit quicker, almost a gasp. Edgeworth couldn’t help himself. He stared.

“Oh, wow,” Gumshoe finally said, slightly muffled by the mouthful of meat. “Oh my God, Mr. Edgeworth. That’s so good. Oh, wow.”

Words Edgeworth had heard him say around a mouthful of meat before. He shifted in his seat, hoping to find a position that would ease the pressure in his pants. He opened his mouth but couldn’t reply; he didn’t trust his voice.

After an eternity Gumshoe swallowed, with a gulp and a gasp that did nothing to help the situation. “That’s really good,” he said brightly, sawing off another piece. “Seriously, this is - wow. This is amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything this good.”

Edgeworth nodded and turned his attention to his own meal. He started to cut a piece for himself, which had the benefit of taking his eyes off Gumshoe, but there wasn’t anything to be done about the sound. In another context, he knew exactly what every one of those sounds meant. That was the groan of Gumshoe taking his sweet time, savoring a slow thrust. That moan was Gumshoe on his knees, lips wrapped around Edgeworth’s cock, on the verge of losing his patience and grabbing himself. And that, that little pause in his breath, that was the last moment before he would lose control and Edgeworth’s world would be buried under a rapid pounding that could last for ages before ending with Gumshoe collapsed on top of him, gasping. He knew these sounds, and his body was reacting vigorously.

After the next pause in the sounds, Gumshoe spoke. “You okay, sir?”

“I’m fine,” Edgeworth announced without looking up. He speared the cube he’d cut and shoved it into his mouth. It was almost enough to distract him. The outer layer has just the smallest bit of char, just enough to have caramelized into a delectable crust. Below that the meat was tender enough to melt on his tongue, hot and rich, giving way at the slightest pressure to release more of the beef flavor. He licked the juices off his lips, but then Gumshoe moaned again and his other hunger reared up.

This was the point where Miles gave up. As much as he knew the meal in front of him would be delicious, he couldn’t resist Dick, not when the man was practically coming with every bite. Miles poured himself a fresh glass of wine and sat back, watching. Every bite was a process for Dick. He sliced off a piece of steak, a cube too big for a reasonable mouthful. He’d examine it briefly, so juicy it was dripping, red and gleaming on the inside. Then he’d open his mouth wide, saliva pooling from the corners of his mouth, tongue reaching forward to wrap around the meat and bring it in, lips coated with juices.  And then the noises would start - oh, god, the noises. Dick moaned and hummed and groaned, sounds of pleasure escaping him with every breath. Miles’s normal aversion to the noises associated with eating was completely overridden by the way Dick moaned, pausing between bites only to thank Miles and tell him how good it was and the occasional loaded comment about how big the steak was. Miles just watched, transfixed, scarcely daring to breath in case he did something to distract Dick and make him stop making those wonderful noises.

And then the goddamn waiter appeared.

“Everything good?”

Miles nearly threw his wine at the man. 

Dick swallowed his current mouthful and gave a big thumbs up. “Oh, it’s amazing, pal! Best steak I ever had.”

Miles took advantage of Dick’s distraction to pull out his wallet and glance inside. He pulled a couple bills out and tucked them into his clenched fist. He waited, and when Dick and the waiter’s brief conversation ended, excused himself. He caught up to the waiter a few steps out of Dick’s view.

“Here,” he said, slipping the bills into the man’s hand, “is a hundred dollars. No interruptions for the next thirty minutes, and you’ll have another hundred. Understood?”

The waiter glanced down at the bills. “Enjoy your meal, sir,” he said, pocketing them smoothly before walking away. Miles sighed before returning to his table.

“Everything okay?” asked Dick. “You haven’t eaten much.”

“Fine,” said Miles, sliding back into the booth. “It’s just a rather large portion for one person.”

“Hey, speak for yourself. I’ll bet I could eat your meat after I’m done with mine.”

Miles looked at the grinning Dick and could find absolutely no sign that he had heard himself. He poured himself another glass of wine. “Go right ahead,” he mumbled.

With the damn waiter taken care of, Miles could relax. Dick clearly had no idea about the massive erection he had sprouted, and that suited Miles just fine. Either it would fade by the end of the meal, or he’d invite Dick over afterward. Either way, all he had to do was resist the urge to run to the bathroom and take care of it immediately.

That task became more difficult as the meal progressed, with Dick happily working through his steak and Miles much more stiffly working his way down the bottle of wine. He did eat a little, but he was more interested in saving the steak for Dick, in case he’d been honest about how much he could eat - and he’d known the man long enough to believe it. 

Miles reached down to his lap to adjust the position of his cloth napkin. He brushed against his erection in the process and had to bite back a moan. Even that tiny bit of friction had been enough to send a shiver up his spine. Hesitantly, he pressed the heel of his hand against his bulging crotch and slid it over the fabric. It was too good to resist, so he did it again and again, agonizingly slowly, praying Dick wouldn’t notice. He didn’t seem to, as his eating didn’t slow down and neither did his orgasmic moans. Miles settled down, into a position where his arm was largely hidden and he could continue unnoticed. His head was swimming with wine and lust; he knew what a terrible idea it was, and that it wouldn’t help. He just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Dick made it most of the way through his steak before starting to slow down. It seemed like he really would be able to live up to his claims. He eventually paused, taking a moment to breathe. “You look tense,” he said, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Fine!” Edgeworth snapped. He regretted it immediately as Dick shrank back. “I’m - I’m fine.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

Edgeworth felt a pang of guilt at Gumshoe’s worried face. This was supposed to be a nice treat for the detective and he was ruining it because he couldn’t control himself. “Of course not,” he replied, sitting up a bit straighter. “I’m fine.”

Gumshoe was still looking at him sadly, a piece of steak dangling off his fork. “Am I eating too much?”

“No, it’s not - “ Edgeworth cleared his throat. He couldn’t let Gumshoe keep thinking he was doing something wrong, not when it was his own fault. “I’ve been… a little distracted. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Gumshoe gasped. “Am I chewing too loud? Oh, I forgot, I’m sorry! I didn’t - “

“No, no! You’re - it’s not your chewing.” Edgeworth couldn’t look at Gumshoe. “It’s the… the sounds you’re making.”

“I’m sorry, sir! I’ll try to chew more quiet, I know it bothers you, I - “

“Your chewing is fine.” For all Gumshoe’s flaws, at least he chewed with his mouth closed. “The other sounds, the…” Edgeworth could feel heat rising in his cheeks. “You sound like you’re… when we’re…” He paused, hoping some recognition might spare him from having to complete the thought, but Gumshoe didn’t react. “You sound like we’re having a drink,” he hissed through his teeth.

Even then, it took Gumshoe a minute. “Oh!” he said at last. “Oh. Uh, oh, wow. Uh.” Gumshoe gazed down at the steak. “I-it’s really good…”

“Yes, well, it’s been a little more… distracting that I would have expected.”

Gumshoe frowned. “Hang on, you mean you’re - ?” He leaned over to glance under the table and Edgeworth squirmed, crossing his legs. When Gumshoe came back up, he was grinning. “Huh. Never would’ve figured you for the type.”

“What type?”

“Oh, I’m not judging, sir, don’t worry. Everybody’s got something, right? Wait, is this why you took me here?”

“No!” Edgeworth grit his teeth. “This wasn’t my intention. It’s hardly my fault that you eat a steak like you’re fucking it!”

He caught how loud that was and glanced around, but no one was staring. The nearby tables were empty, and the waiter had followed through on his part of the bargain. Breathing hard, he turned back to Gumshoe and was surprised to see him still smiling. Deliberately, he raised the fork and ate the piece of steak stuck there.

“Mmm,” he said, drawing it out, and Edgeworth shivered. He stared as Gumshoe chewed, moaning, and now the bastard was doing it on purpose. And Edgeworth shivered because it was working and he wanted so badly and he couldn’t keep his eyes off Gumshoe’s lips.

Gumshoe at last swallowed the mouthful with a desperate little whine and a satisfied sigh. He looked back up at Edgeworth, still smiling, and there was something in his eyes that Edgeworth barely recognized. Then Gumshoe moved, sliding along the circular bench, around the table and close to Edgeworth’s side. Before Edgeworth could react, he bowed his head.

Miles clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his gasp as Dick swiftly unfastened his pants. In seconds, his erection was exposed, and then Dick’s mouth was on him and nothing mattered. Dick sucked sloppily, moaning and groaning as lusciously as he’d been while eating the steak. Miles’s eyes darted around, terror shooting through his chest. The walls of the booth hid them from most of the restaurant, and no one was in sight, but it would be too easy for someone to walk by and catch them. Despite himself, that terror turned to thrill as he struggled to keep his breath steady, his mouth silent, while Dick bobbed his head, his tongue curling around Miles’s cock. All the while he was still making all those little noises that had tortured Miles all night, as if Miles tasted as good as that steak, as if Miles was the most delicious thing he’d ever had.

Miles bent over with a silent cry as all his agony burst from him, his vision going white, his body tense and trembling. He couldn’t breathe for fear of screaming and drawing attention, so all he could do was bite his knuckle and hang on as his body jerked and thrust and finally released, flooding Dick’s mouth. Dick swallowed greedily, humming in delight as he drank in Miles’s seed.

When Miles went limp, Dick sat up. He slid back along the leather seat to his spot, looking quite pleased with himself. Miles slumped into the leather, completely boneless, too tired to even tuck himself away. With a shaking hand he reached for his glass of wine and drank deep, letting the bitter liquid bring him back down. 

“How was that, sir?” Dick asked, looking at Miles with shining eyes.

Miles struggled to answer without gasping. “That… that was… good,” he finished lamely, his mind currently too far away to come up with something better. “Very good. Very… very good.”

Dick grinned. “Feeling better?”

“Yes. Yes, I…” Miles shook his head. “Much better. Thank you.”

Holy shit.

The rush was fading, leaving shame in its wake. Had he really just gotten a fucking blowjob in a restaurant? What the hell was wrong with him? That was more than just inappropriate, it was - it was criminal. And he’d dragged Gumshoe into his perverted game, made him bend over and - and on a night that was supposed to be a reward! Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable.

Gumshoe was eating like nothing had happened, and Edgeworth tried to do the same. Maybe they could pretend nothing had happened and forget about it. It would just be another on Edgeworth’s long list of ways he’d mistreated Gumshoe.

He wasn’t supposed to be adding to that list anymore.

He cleared his throat. “Detective, I… I apologize.”

Gumshoe looked up in the middle of a bite. “For what?”

“For - for that. For what just happened.”

“Oh!” Gumshoe swallowed. “You don’t gotta apologize for that, sir!”

Edgeworth found himself struggling to explain. “It wasn’t… I should have handled the situation differently.”

“Hey. It’s okay to, y’know.” Gumshoe shrugged. “Get a little worked up. Nobody saw nothin’, so don’t worry about it. And it was kinda fun.” This last part was accompanied by Gumshoe dropping his gaze bashfully. “I never done anything like that before.”

Edgeworth took a sip of his wine, letting the bitter taste ground him. “Neither have I,” he confessed.

“I guess some of the stuff in your office,” Gumshoe continued. “But that felt private, you know? Like - nobody was gonna walk in on us. That was kinda exciting.”

“Yes, well… regardless, I want you to know that that was not my intention.” He cleared his throat. “This dinner wasn’t to… get you to do that. Or to do anything. It was meant as a reward for a job well done.”

Gumshoe nodded somberly. “Thank you, sir.”

Edgeworth cleared his throat again, suddenly embarrassed. “Now,” he said, picking up his fork, “back to the meal.”

Gumshoe perked up. “Can we get dessert?”

Edgeworth eyed the massive bone on Gumshoe’s plate. “If you want to.”

Gumshoe grinned, and Edgeworth smiled.

 

Chapter 14: A Visitor

Summary:

After Gumshoe reveals a tidbit from his history, Edgeworth finds himself with an opportunity he never could have imagined - and that he’s very, very happy to take.

Eventually, Edgeworth had gotten good at the small talk. It wasn’t awkward to spend a few minutes on the couch with Gumshoe before getting down to business. They were still there for sex, and they both knew it, but it had become easy to chat first.

The topic of conversation occasionally drifted to the purpose of these visits, and that, Edgeworth still struggled to deal with calmly. He wouldn’t have considered himself a prude, or at least he wouldn’t like to. The Von Karma household hadn’t exactly been the most welcoming environment for sensitive discussions, and he’d long been in the habit of closing himself off. It had been a struggle and a process to break that habit, starting with little things like “please” and “thank you.” He hadn’t quite gotten around to frank discussions of sexual preferences, even with the man who’d been indulging those preferences for months now.

It was amazing how freely Gumshoe could talk about these things. Right now he was on Edgeworth’s couch, gesturing with a bottle of beer in his hand as he described what sounded like a very lively weekend fishing trip in college. Edgeworth could only watch, fascinated at the ease with which Gumshoe described how a lot of alcohol and an impromptu wrestling tournament had gone awry in a most enjoyable way. “I tell ya, I was sore for days,” Gumshoe chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “Good times.”

“I can only imagine,” Edgeworth replied, imagining with as much detail as he could. God, if only he’d been there. He was on his third glass of wine, so he was getting a little loose-lipped. “Never had any similar experiences, myself. Wasted my youth, I suppose.”

“Hey, you’re still young! You never know what might happen. Like there was this one time with me and Will Powers - “

Edgeworth choked on his wine. He spat, dribbling down his chin as he started a hacking cough. Gumshoe clapped a hand on his back but Edgeworth held up his hand, shaking his head as he regained his breath.

“You,” he finally said, “slept with Will Powers?”

“Uh… y-yeah?”

“Will Powers, the star of the Steel Samurai?”

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? God no. I’m…” He leaned back. “Impressed.” He took another drink, and this one made it all the way down. “How did that happen?”

Gumshoe blushed and looked away, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, well, it was after his trial. We ran into each other at the bar near the courthouse, and started talkin’. He was excited about getting off, y’know, and one thing led to another…” He shrugged. “We met up a few times.”

“A few times?” Edgeworth swirled his wine glass, staring down into it thoughtfully. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Will. Sometimes in costume as the Steel Samurai, sometimes out of it, and usually in nothing at all. The man had an impressive build and looked like he could bench Edgeworth, which was definitely not a negative. “Lucky you,” he said. “I know I’d take that opportunity if it ever came up.”

And now he was thinking about Will and Gumshoe, muscles straining, massive bodies colliding, sweat dripping as they grunt and thrust…

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait until he finished his wine.

“You know,” said Gumshoe after a long moment, “I haven’t talked to Will in a while. Maybe I should give him a call.” He looked at Edgeworth in a way that made him blush and winked. “Maybe he’d like to come over for a drink with us one of these days.”

Edgeworth almost dropped his wine glass. “Y-Yes,” he stammered, setting it down; his fingers were suddenly so slippery. “That would be… he’d certainly be welcome. If… if he wanted to.”

“Can’t hurt to ask,” said Gumshoe, polishing off his beer. “I’m pretty sure he will.” He set down the empty bottle and leaned forward, towering over Edgeworth. “Who could say no to you?”

Then he went in for the kiss, and Edgeworth sighed in relief.

Two weeks later, long after he’d dismissed the conversation as idle fantasy, he received a text from Gumshoe.

“Will could come over for drinks with us on Saturday if you’re still interested?”

Edgeworth nearly spat out his tea. “Is this a joke?” he responded.

“no joke. Sat night? You in?”

Will Powers. Will Powers. Edgeworth’s mouth watered at the thought.

“What kind of beer does he like?” he asked, because it seemed like a good way to seem relaxed.

“anything’s fine. see you Saturday. ;) “

By the time Saturday came, he’d cleaned his entire house twice, on top of the maid’s usual visit. His fridge was stocked with several different varieties of beer as well as a few good options for wine. His nightstand was also packed with variety. He’d had a couple glasses of wine through the day, and was nursing another and trying to stay calm when the doorbell rang.

He forced himself to take slow steps to the door and to swing it open at a normal pace. There stood Gumshoe, his usual goofy grin firmly in place. Just behind him, towering even over him, stood Will Powers in the flesh, smiling.

Edgeworth could’ve fainted.

Instead he took a breath. “Welcome,” he said, stepping back to make room. “Lovely to see you, Mr. Powers.”

“Ah, you can call me Will,” he responded, and his voice was deep and gravely and made Edgeworth shiver. Edgeworth extended a hand and tried not to react when Will took it.

“Miles,” he said. Then he released the hand and gestured into his home. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, slipping into a hosting persona. “Would you care for a drink?”

Will stepped through the foyer, looking around with his hands in his pockets. “Sure, I’ll take a beer,” he said, gazing upwards.

Gumshoe clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll grab you one.”

“Thanks.” Gumshoe left, and Edgeworth was alone with Will Powers. 

He cleared his throat. “You look well.”

“Yeah, been a while since anyone accused me of murder.” Will looked down with a smile at Edgeworth, who’d gone pale. “I’m kidding,” he said, patting him on the arm. “No hard feelings. You were just doin’ your job, right?”

“R-right,” Edgeworth replied, looking away. Powers’s case had been one of the last he’d worked on before his own trial, and in those days his work had been a bit more of an obsession than “just doing his job.” He’d been stopped before it went too far, and he was always going to be grateful for that, but a case like Powers was an example of how close he’d come to going over the edge.

“Nah, Dick’s told me all about you,” Will continued. “I get it. He makes you sound like a real good guy, and if he thinks you’re good then you can’t be all that bad, y’know?”

Edgeworth blinked. “I suppose - “

“Although,” Will continued, looking up thoughtfully, “I guess you might owe me an apology after all. But I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to make it up to me tonight.” Will winked at Edgeworth, whose knees almost buckled then and there. He was saved by the return of Gumshoe bearing two bottles of beer and the glass of wine he’d left on the counter.

“This yours?” he asked, handing it over.

“Yes, thank you.” Edgeworth took a deep gulp, trying to calm his racing heart. He could feel Will looking at him, and it made him feel very… exposed. For him to just come out and say something like that! The nerve! He wasn’t sure if he was scared or aroused. Maybe both.

They made their way into the living room where they took seats, Edgeworth on one end of a couch and Gumshoe on the other. Will took a seat in an armchair and relaxed, leaning back. He was wearing a sweatshirt that was unzipped just far enough to reveal curly red hair and a pair of sweatpants that - well, maybe he was imagining it, because surely it couldn’t be that big. This was ridiculous, that he was reacting this way. There really must have been something wrong with him. He shouldn’t be this turned on by just sitting in the same room as someone, he shouldn’t be imagining running his tongue down that chest, and feeling those strong arms pick him up and put him exactly where he wanted him, and -

He sipped his wine. Gumshoe and Will had been chatting, he realized, and he’d absolutely missed it. He was just lucky he’d caught himself before one of them noticed him staring.

“So, Miles,” said Will, jolting him out of his reverie, “what’ve you been up to lately? I feel like your name hasn’t been in the papers as often.”

“Ah, well.” His voice was weak. He cleared his throat and started again. “I’ve been working on less visible things, really. There’s some internal issues that have needed sorting out.”

“Huh. Sounds exciting.” Will’s voice was flat.

“It’s not,” Edgeworth said, “but frankly I’ve been glad to have a little less excitement at work. I’ve had to… change some things.”

“Ah, That makes sense.” Will nodded. “I guess you’ve found a fun new way to blow off some steam at least, eh, Dick?”

Gumshoe laughed, and Edgeworth swallowed hard. Some of his tenseness must have been visible, because Will frowned and leaned forward.

“You okay?”

“I’m - I’m fine,” he answered, aware that he was blushing fiercely. “I… I’ve never done something like this before.” Even acknowledging that Will was here for a reason felt like crossing some boundary. He’d thought that his time with Gumshoe had made him a little more comfortable with the concept of sex, but here he was.

“Listen, we’re not gonna do anything you’re not comfortable with,” said Will. “You can call the whole thing off right now if you want. It’s alright.”

“No, no. I… “ He looked up at Will, still concerned, and then his eyes flickered down. “I don’t want that. I want…” God, he couldn’t say it. He just couldn’t. It wasn’t a secret, it wasn’t a confession, it was literally what they were all here for, but he just couldn’t say it.

There was a moment of quiet as all three men sipped their drinks. “How ‘bout you, Dick?” Will said. “How you feeling?”

“I’m good,” said Gumshoe, raising his beer. “Feeling pretty good.”

“Hmm.” Will nodded. “Then you know what, I think I’m just gonna try something.” He drained his drink and left the empty bottle on the table as he rose. Then he crossed the room and sat between Edgeworth and Gumshoe. The couch wasn’t small, but Will took up a significant portion of it, and his thigh was touching Edgeworth’s. Edgeworth sat very still, barely daring to breathe. Will stretched, draping his arm across the back of the couch and casually over both sets of shoulders. He leaned over to Gumshoe and whispered something. Gumshoe moved closer, but stopped inches away. He looked over Will’s shoulder and locked eyes with Edgeworth, who was watching, fascinated.

Almost imperceptibly, Edgeworth nodded.

Gumshoe smiled. Then he kissed Will.

Edgeworth watched, unmoving, as the two men moved together. Will’s hand went to the side of Dick’s face, and Dick rested his on Will’s thigh. The kiss was gentle, slow, two people rediscovering something familiar. There was a tenderness to Dick’s soft sighs, to Will’s fingers on his cheek. Edgeworth felt as if he was witnessing something he shouldn’t, a moment of intimacy that he had no right to. But he couldn’t look away.

Then the kiss ended, with Gumshoe pulling back, eyes still half-closed. He looked past Will’s shoulder again, and Will turned his head to look as well. They were both looking at Edgeworth, smiling, inviting.

Edgeworth’s guts turned to jelly. He was sure that this was about to collapse, that this was a bad idea and the consequences would be swift and brutal. He didn’t even know what they’d be, just that it couldn’t end well for him.

But they were looking at him so gently, so warmly, and he wanted.

He took a deep, shuddering breath. Then he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and kissed Will Powers.

It wasn’t all that different from kissing Gumshoe, really. A different smell, less smoky, more… musky. The same taste of beer. His lips were softer, though. The hair on the back of the head that he grabbed was longer and softer. The hands that wrapped around his waist and effortlessly lifted him into his lap were a bit larger, the skin not so calloused. That was, he soon realized, the easiest way to tell them apart. The hand on his shoulder, smooth and soft, was Will; the one sliding up his chest, under his shirt, was unmistakably Dick. The lips on his neck were Will’s, feather-soft; the lips on his stomach, ducked beneath that pulled-up shirt, had Dick’s texture.

A voice in his ear, husky and unfamiliar. Will. “You doing okay?”

“Yes,” Edgeworth gasped, because he couldn’t do anything else. “Yes, yes, god yes.”

Will chuckled. “Good. I had a feeling you’d relax once we got started.”

His shirt was being undone, and a hand - Will’s - was sliding down his chest. For a moment no lips were on him, and he could feel the weight of the two men shifting around him. Then a hand - Gumshoe’s - was on his back and once again he was lifted and moved. He opened his eyes to find himself straddling Will, which made him suddenly very aware of how hard he was. And a quick glance down informed him that he wasn’t mistaken about his earlier observation.

Will scooped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. “Always thought you were cute,” he purred, trailing a finger down Edgeworth’s chest and popping the buttons one by one. “Lucky me that Dick decided to share.”

Edgeworth was going to respond - he wasn’t cute, and he didn’t belong to Dick, and he wasn’t being shared - but Will bent forward to drag his tongue up the exposed skin and Edgeworth’s head lolled back and Dick’s lips were on his neck and fuck, yes, whatever you say, Mr. Powers, just please, don’t stop.

Two sets of hands and two sets of lips were completely wrecking his ability to think, and they hadn’t even gotten to the good parts. He was already a panting, ruined mess, and all he wanted was more, for these two strong men to just pick him up or pin him down and do whatever they wanted. His mind acknowledged that this was debasing, that he’d never even dreamed of such submission, that he was surrendering his agency and losing control. His body begged for more.

Will nipped at his collarbone and Edgeworth jerked away but didn’t move, held firmly in place. He couldn’t escape, and he didn’t want to, moaning as Will’s mouth latched on, sending shivers down his spine. Gumshoe’s hands were on his back, under his shirt, rubbing large soothing circles and stroking down his spine, down the arch of his back, but stopping before the waistband. At some point those hands made their way back up to his collar; at some point they grabbed it and pulled it down and his shirt dropped away, fully exposing his shoulders and arms and back. Will leaned back, one hand propping Edgeworth up by the shoulder and the other following the same path his eyes took in examining him.

For a moment, Edgeworth felt a stab of panic; Will had the eyes of a tiger, and the air of a predator licking its chops. And here he was, exposed, vulnerable, helpless. Prey. His muscles tensed, a scream building in his throat - until something warm pressed against his back and wrapped around his waist. Gumshoe was there, pressing soft kisses against his shoulder blade, and Miles relaxed. Will was still looking at him, but with Gumshoe at his back Miles was able to enjoy the shiver down his spine when Will grinned and tucked a finger under his chin, lifting it just so as if to examine the delicate neck beneath.

“Hey Dick,” he said, turning Edgeworth’s face to the side, “whaddya think? Time to move somewhere we can get a little more comfortable?”

“Works for me,” came the response from behind him, and Miles recognized the tone in that voice.

Will nodded, and stroked Edgeworth’s cheekbone with his thumb. “How about you, Miles?” he asked in a low rumble that Edgeworth could swear reverberated through his whole body. “Should we keep going? Do you want more?”

Edgeworth took a deep breath, but he couldn’t stop now. He didn’t want to stop now. “Bedroom’s over there,” he said, sliding back out of Will’s lap and into a standing position. Will stood up as well and wow, he was tall. It would have been exaggerating to say his massive cock was at mouth level, but not by much. Still, Edgeworth stood fast, and led the way to the bedroom. When he reached it, he turned back around and gasped because Will had taken off his shirt.

Gumshoe was big and strong. He was also a little pudgy. He didn’t eat a lean diet, and he never visited a gym. Will Powers, by strong contrast, had the chiseled body of a Hollywood stuntman hidden under that sweatsuit. His chest was built from massive pectorals and six-pack abs that just begged to be touched. His biceps were big as watermelons, his shoulders broad and muscular. His skin was tanned, and Edgeworth was struck by the idea that it should feel like suede.

“Uh-oh, Dick.” Will’s voice snapped him out of it, and he realized he’d been staring. “I didn’t come here to steal your man, but I think he sees something he likes.” Will flexed and winked, and Edgeworth wasn’t sure if more blood was rushing to his face or his cock.

Gumshoe, still in a white undershirt, raised a hand defensively. “He’s not - I don’t - “

“C’mon, Dick,” said Will, stepping closer to Gumshoe. “You just gonna take that?”

Dick’s face cycled rapidly from sadness to realization to a sort of gleeful rage. “No!” He pulled his shirt off over his head and flung it aside, striking a pose similar to Will’s. It certainly didn’t accentuate his muscles anywhere near as much, but Miles still appreciated the show. The two men grunted with effort, switching positions, and Miles tried not to laugh. He couldn’t hide a smile, though.

“Well?” said Will, twisting his body to best show off his muscles. “Who d’you pick?”

“Hmm.” Edgeworth raised a finger contemplatively to his chin. He walked a slow circle around Will, letting his fingers trail across some of the more appetizing parts of his anatomy. Then he repeated the process with Dick, with the advantage that he already knew exactly where to touch to make him shiver and lose his concentration on his pose. Finally, Edgeworth stood in front of the two men as they displayed their bodies for his amusement.

Edgeworth sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. “Hmm... tonight, I choose…” He smirked. “Both.”

Will laughed, throwing an arm around Dick’s shoulders. “Oh, I like this guy. Well? Should we give him what he asked for?”

Dick grinned. “Seems only fair.”

“Let me see,” said Edgeworth, leaning back to be more comfortable, “what I’m getting.”

Will hooked a finger in Dick’s waistband and pulled him into a kiss. Edgeworth watched as the two men embraced, arms wrapped around each other, hands roaming as their slow kisses grew more passionate. He nodded with approval when Will’s hands slipped down the curve of Dick’s ass and when Dick palmed Will’s pecs, running his thumb across the nipple and drawing a little moan. Will tugged, and Miles was pleased to see that Dick had elected for a relatively new pair of briefs that day as his belt slipped down to reveal them. When Dick responded in kind, however, the revelation that Will had chosen a black jockstrap delighted him even more, and he admired the way it framed his firm ass while they continued to extract themselves from their pants. There was so little between them now, just a couple thin layers of cotton, and their arousal was as obvious in the pace of their touches and the pitch of their moans as in the friction between their hips.

As much as he was enjoying this, he wasn’t here just to be a voyeur. Edgeworth stood and circled them until they were between him and the bed, and he waited until they broke off kissing long enough to look at him.

“On the bed,” he commanded, pushing Will’s shoulder. There was no way he could have actually moved Will if the man wanted to prevent it, but he yielded to Edgeworth’s touch and stepped back, sitting heavily on the bed.

“So now you’re calling the shots?” he asked with a crooked smile.

Edgeworth stood over him, resting a hand on his head. “Just do as you’re told,” he said, and he tightened his hand into a fistful of Will’s hair and wrested his head to the side. Will growled as Edgeworth straddled him, mouth on his neck, grinding into his lap. God, he really was rock hard under there, and massive, and Edgeworth’s lips curled at the thought that he might not be able to walk tomorrow, if he was lucky. 

He kept his hand in Will’s hair, effortlessly moving him to his whims as he worked his way down, finally tasting those luscious abs. His skin tasted like salt with the sweat beading up over it, and Will couldn’t quite keep still when Edgeworth made his way to his nipple, sucking and nibbling to make the big man squirm. He just wanted to put his mouth all over those muscles, and there was nothing stopping him now. He left marks, because he didn’t care enough not to, marking his path across the chest, down the abs, along the hip, and finally to his prize. He stopped there, just above the elastic band that held the flimsy cotton in place, and hovered, taking a moment to plan. Then he released Will, straightened up, and turned.

Dick was standing behind him, staring openly, one hand thrust under the waistband of his briefs, stroking slowly. At Miles’s command, he stepped up to the bed. 

“Up,” said Miles, and Dick obeyed, climbing into the bed up on his knees. With a little coaxing Will joined him, kneeling in front of Edgeworth. Edgeworth knelt between them, and his head was at exactly the right height. With one hand, he reached over and yanked Dick’s underwear down, exposing his erection. The other hand went to Will’s, repeating the action, and Edgeworth got his first good look - and it was magnificent. So thick he worried about getting his mouth around it, standing proud and hard as a diamond, and Edgeworth leaned forward and wrapped his lips around it.

Both men groaned as Edgeworth stroked one and sucked the other. He could only take Will’s cock a couple inches deep, barely anything at all, and he desperately tried for more. He closed his eyes, willing himself past the gag reflex, choking around the tip as it pushed past his comfort level. He was so full, and his eyelids fluttered at the thought of all this inside him at once. He wanted, he realized, to feel Will come in his mouth, to taste him, but he wanted more to get fucked by him, and it seemed devastatingly unfair that he’d have to choose.

After a minute he switched, pulling off of Will’s cock and swallowing Dick’s instead. Here he could use a little more finesse, as he had a little more room to work with. He also had the advantage of familiarity, knowing exactly where to put his tongue and what to do with it to make Dick gasp and buck against him, thrusting deep into him again. Distantly, he thought he heard Will chuckle, and the idea pleased him, so he did it again - rolling his tongue at that particular spot and drawing a moan from Dick’s lips. Will Powers was watching him suck off Detective Gumshoe, and just that realization made his breath hitch for a moment, swallowing hard around the cock in his mouth. It was ridiculously scandalous, it was depraved, it was dirty, it was well below a man of his stature and he hadn’t been raised this way and what was he thinking, what would Manfred von Karma think - and strangely, the thought of Manfred von Karma witnessing this didn’t stop him in his tracks. In fact, it delighted him to the point of laughter. Imagine: Manfred von Karma learning that his protégé was getting fucked by two men at once and enjoying it - loving it - and worst of all, without an atom of shame to taint his pleasure. 

He pulled off Dick with a sloppy sound, bending over in laughter. He could sense hesitation above him, and a hand touched his shoulder lightly.

“You okay, sir?”

“I’m wonderful,” he said, grabbing Dick’s wrist and using it to pull himself up. “I’m fantastic, I’m amazing, I’m - “ He threw his arms around Dick and kissed him, hard and sloppy, tongue digging between his lips like it was hunting for something. Then he turned and did the same thing to Will, throwing himself onto the man and depending on him to keep him upright. “Please,” he gasped, “please, will you fuck me? Will you both - “ and he leaned back to grab Dick by the shoulder, “ - fuck me? As hard as you can. Please?”

Will turned to grin at Dick. “Ready?”

“You bet, pal!” Dick answered.

Miles lunged for the bedside table as the two men started to move, and came back with a sizable bottle of lube and a fistful of condoms. He handed them to Will before kneeling between them on all fours, facing Dick.

“Any special requests?” said Will. Miles could feel his hands on his hips, one slick finger already probing him, and he shuddered.

“Hard,” he said, looking up at Dick, who was gazing down at Miles reverently. “Don’t stop.”

Will chuckled. “Ready, Dick?”

“Y-yeah,” Dick answered, settling in front of Miles, his cock inches away from his mouth. Miles leaned forward, just enough to take the tip into his mouth, and it was all that kept him from screaming when Will entered him.

Despite his request, Will started slow, easing into him inch by torturous inch. Miles could scarcely keep breathing, sucking hard in response. After an eternity he was all the way inside, and Miles took a shuddering breath. He’d definitely never had something this big inside him before, and it was almost too much. He was on the edge of collapse, just from this - and there was more to come. Miles looked up at Dick the best he could and opened his mouth as wide as possible, and Dick got the message. He thrust almost as slowly as Will had, sliding between Miles’s teeth and over his tongue and down his throat. Miles now had the biggest cock he’d ever seen buried in his ass, and another down his throat.

His brain shut off.

The two men went slow, and Miles felt every twitch, every motion. His moans were stifled by Dick’s cock, but he couldn’t have stopped them if he’d tried. The men settled into a steady rhythm, one thrusting and one withdrawing, so perfectly in sync that it felt like they were connected through his body. It was for the best that he couldn’t talk because all that would have come out would be incoherent pleading for more, more, more. White heat was flooding his body, pumped in with every thrust, overflowing every nerve and every sensation until they were unified in absolute pleasure. He wasn’t aware of the sounds he was making; he wasn’t aware of much he twitched and jerked and spasmed. All he knew was that he was in a moaning, sweaty, frenzied paradise, and he never wanted it to end.

It did, eventually, have to end, but he didn’t regret it. The white heat inside of him built under the relentless pressure as Will and Dick sped up, grunting and scrabbling at him for purchase. Miles screamed as Will’s cock pushed into him faster and harder and finally, on one deep thrust, sent him screaming into orgasm, his cries choking on Dick’s cock and his seed spilling onto the sheets. There was a moment of quiet as the men held him up, until his breath returned and his eyes opened again. Then, exactly as promised, they kept going.

It hurt, now, even with ample lube and more than enough enthusiasm. Every nerve was overstimulated, and every movement filled Miles with delicious agony. He moaned, low and deep, paralyzed by the delicious sensation of too much, of being overwhelmed and helpless and used.

His mind returned enough to recognize the stuttering in Dick’s rhythm, the edge to his grunts, the way the hand on his head clutched at his hair. He angled his eyes up as much as he could, trying to see, and found Dick staring back down at him. With a groan and a deep thrust Dick came, pouring straight down Miles’s throat. He pulled out, leaving Miles panting and gasping and with cum dripping from the corners of his mouth.

Seconds later, Will’s grip on his hips tightened, and with an immensely satisfied groan he thrust deep into Miles, and Miles could feel every twitch of his throbbing cock as it pumped him full of cum. Will pulled out, and the relief was enough to make Miles collapse.

He lost track of what happened next. When he could think, he found himself nestled between the two large men. Dick played gently with his hair, one arm thrown across his waist, smiling gently. Will, on the other side, was propped up on one elbow and rubbing his hip.

“Hey, there he is,” he said when Miles started to move. “How you feelin?”

Empty. Drained. Exhausted. Used. Blissful. Miles hummed and nodded, hoping that would be enough to express a positive state.

It might have worked, because Will chuckled. “We wore you out, huh?” He tucked a strand of hair behind Miles’s ear. Miles should have protested, but it was true. He couldn’t move, and more importantly, he didn’t want to. The bed was soft, and the bodies around him were warm. He closed his eyes and let his head rest on Dick’s shoulder.

Eventually he was disturbed by movement, and opened his eyes to see Will rising from the bed. “I’d better get going,” he said, bending to gather his clothes. “Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out. And hey, if you guys ever wanna do this again, gimme a call. I had fun.” He winked, doing up his belt. Then he bent over the bed to kiss first Edgeworth, then Gumshoe. “Nice to see you again, Miles. You too, Dick.”

Edgeworth still couldn’t manage to speak, but Gumshoe managed to reply with something at least half coherent. Will tugged on his shirt as he walked out, and Edgeworth heard the door shut behind him. Without him the bed had more room, and Gumshoe yawned and stretched. “Guess I should probably head out too - “

He was interrupted by Miles grabbing him around the waist, holding him feebly. “Stay,” he mumbled, nuzzling into his shoulder.

Gumshoe sank back into the bed. “Alright,” he said, stroking Edgeworth’s hair. “I’ll stay.”

Edgeworth hummed in approval. Gumshoe pulled the blankets up over them. His arm across Edgeworth’s waist was heavy and warm, and Edgeworth was already falling into sleep. Before he did, though, there was one thing he wanted to say. Summoning all his remaining strength, he lifted his head and in a voice scarcely louder than a breath, said, “Dick.”

Dick Gumshoe smiled, and tucked a pillow under his head, and kissed him on the temple.

“Miles.”

Chapter 15: Any Morning

Summary:

Miles makes a dreadful discovery.

It couldn’t last.

Of course it couldn’t. Not for Edgeworth. He was always going to screw it up somehow. That was just how his life worked. His career, he could keep together, and that was it. The price he paid was, simply, everything else. There was a reason he’d had to resort to sexual encounters with a subordinate, and that was his utter inability to maintain a relationship outside of work.

It had been stupid to think he couldn’t fuck that up too. He just didn’t know how.

The morning he ruined it was perfectly unremarkable. When he woke, Dick was still asleep in bed beside him. They didn’t spend every night together, and he didn’t always stay the night, but it was common now. And last night he’d been too exhausted to go home, and Miles had been reluctant to let him. It was just hormones, he knew, just the chemicals released by the brain that made him crave skin contact and drag Dick back into bed, to curl up against his chest, warm and safe. It was just another physical release.

He’d overslept, at least by his standards. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, making the room outside his blankets look warmer than it truly was. Dick was on his back, one arm pinned under Miles, the other flung over his head. He was still snoring, and Miles laughed to himself at the sound, like a lawnmower struggling to start. Miles adjusted the blankets, pulling them up tight over his shoulders and covering Dick’s chest as he rested against it. He spent a moment examining his face closely. It looked ridiculous, with his mouth hanging wide open. Somehow even while sleeping, he was still smiling. His face was just naturally inclined to it. The sunlight lent a warm glow to the contours of his face - the squared jaw, the tiny cleft in his chin, the forest of stubble that never seemed to change. His eyelids looked so delicate under his thick brows. Even his eyelashes glowed, and Miles couldn’t even think if he’d ever noticed them before. They were lovely, though, heavy over Dick’s eyes like a cow’s.

Miles raised a hand to Dick’s chin, rubbing his thumb over the rough scruff there. Gently, he tilted Dick’s face toward him as he slid up and leaned in to kiss him. Dick’s breath wasn’t exactly sweet, but his lips were, as well as the way he sighed and moved into Miles’s touch. By the time Miles pulled back Dick’s eyes had fluttered open, and he was smiling gently.

“Good morning,” Miles said.

“Mmmm. Morning.” Dick raised a hand to his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “‘S cold,” he mumbled, tucking the hand back under the blanket. He rolled over and draped his arm over Miles, pulling him closer, nuzzling the top of his head. Miles hummed pleasantly, pressing his cold nose against Dick’s chest. He never thought he’d like the smell of a person.

They stayed that way for a few minutes more, and Miles had almost started to drift off again - a ridiculous indulgence - when Dick groaned and pulled back. “Coffee,” he mumbled. He pushed down the blankets and shivered in the cold air.

Miles watched as he lumbered away. He hadn’t gotten dressed, but he wasn’t going far. There was a little area between the bedroom and bathroom with a few cabinets, a small wine fridge, and a sink. Miles had never made much use of it. He wasn’t inclined to spend much time in his bedroom, and didn’t see the point in it. Since Dick’s visits, however, it had become clear that the man needed coffee in the mornings to function. Miles had acquired one of those dreadful single-serving coffee machines. At Dick’s insistence, it had been joined by an electric kettle and a box of cheap bagged tea. Miles had tried to refuse, but Dick looked heartbroken when he couldn't at least bring him a cup of tea. So it was all for Dick’s sake, really, as well as the strange coffee mug with a picture of the Blue Badger on it. Although, especially on a cold morning, he could see the appeal in a warm beverage without having to leave the comfort of bed. One of many things he’d learned to appreciate, lately.

Miles lay back down. He could hear the coffee machine whirring to life, noisy thing it was. The routine was set. Dick was making his first cup, while the kettle boiled (much too hot, really). Then he’d pour some water into one of the many horrible mugs that had appeared out of nowhere (there seemed to be more every day). He’d drop in one of the cheap tea bags, and by then he would have finished his first cup of coffee - it could be scalding hot and he’d still drink it like a shot. So while the tea steeped, the coffee machine would whirr again, producing the second cup. Then, finally, he’d come back, carrying both mugs, walking so carefully and still inevitably managing to spill. Miles’s floors were going to start developing water damage. He should consider a throw rug.

Strange, that things had turned out this way. He sighed contentedly and reached out a hand to the now empty sheets beside him, rapidly cooling. Dick would be back soon, and then Miles could curl up beside him again. Maybe they’d stay there for a while. Maybe they could go for a round of slow, sleepy lovemaking. Even if not, though, he was sure he could convince Dick to stay. And then he could relax. He’d never been big on company, or so he’d thought, but it turned out he enjoyed having Dick around. A morning in bed with someone he loved was infinitely preferable to solitude. What else would he be doing? Reading the newspaper? No, much better to -

What?

He blinked and shook his head. Loved? What a thought. Surely impossible, though. He’d be foolish in so many ways to pursue it.

A small splash heralded Dick’s return; Miles turned toward the sound to see Dick wincing at the tea that had slopped over the edge of the mug. “Sorry, boss,” he said, holding forward the mug. “I’ll get that cleaned up.”

Miles stared at the mug. The mug of cheap, burnt, over-brewed, bitter tea. Why would he drink it? He knew it would be terrible. But he would drink it anyway, and it would be warm down in his chest, and then Dick would wiggle into bed beside him and lean over to kiss him on the cheek and that would be -

“You okay, sir?”

Miles shook himself out of it and glanced up at Dick who was looking at him concerned, now, big brown eyes sparkling. “I - I’m fine,” said Miles, reaching out to take the mug. “Just thinking.”

Dick chuckled. “You’re not supposed to be doing that while I’m here.” He sat on the bed and leaned over to kiss Miles on the cheek. His heart soared. His stomach turned.

No.

Edgeworth took a sip of the bitter tea, a distraction and excuse as much as anything else. He couldn’t - he didn’t - he - not - not him, not this. This was purely physical. Just sex, nothing more. No feelings. No - none of that nonsense. Just sex with a convenient partner. A distraction from Wright.

When was the last time he’d thought about Wright?

Gumshoe was a good man. Edgeworth could acknowledge that. He was kind, and loyal, and brave. But he was also sloppy, and uncultured, and none too smart. He was clumsy, he lacked delicacy, he had no ambition, he ate garbage, he made terrible tea, he always missed things when cleaning Edgeworth’s office, he laughed too loud and smiled too easily, he always had those beautiful eyes, he was devoted to his job and his partner no matter how he was treated, he would never leave Edgeworth’s side, god, no, not him, not this, not him.

His heart was pounding. He could taste bile. His hands shook.

He couldn’t be in love.

He almost jumped when he felt Gumshoe‘s hand touch his forearm. “You look seriously spooked,” he said quietly. “What’s up?”

Edgeworth carefully set his tea on his bedside table. “Nothing,” he lied. “I’ve remembered an engagement I have this morning.”

Gumshoe sighed. “Aw, I thought we had time.” He took a big gulp of coffee. “I’ll get outta your hair, then.”

Edgeworth nodded, watching as Gumshoe climbed back out of bed and started the process of figuring out where his pants had gone. This guy, unshaven, coffee stains on his ragged boxers, scratching his head as he tried to determine which clothes were his. This guy?

Then he turned his head and grinned and his smile was like a ray of sunshine and fuck, yes, this guy. Goddammit.

Edgeworth stayed silent as Gumshoe got dressed, humming cheerfully. He only nodded when Gumshoe told him to have a good day, and kissed him on the forehead, and abandoned his empty mug on the nightstand. He waited until he heard his front door close, then a little longer, until he was sure he heard Gumshoe’s car coughing to life and driving off. Then, finally confident he was alone, he rolled over and screamed into a pillow.

Chapter 16: For The Best

Summary:

Circumstances have changed.

It couldn’t go on. He tried. He wanted it. But it couldn’t, it just couldn’t. He kept thinking about Gumshoe. At home, he was restless and easily distractible, and often found himself staring blankly at nothing or unconsciously reaching for his phone to message Gumshoe. Work was even worse; he’d gotten tense, snapping at coworkers and, once, even Gumshoe himself.

The worst part, however, was when Gumshoe came over. Because those were the best parts. When Gumshoe was there Edgeworth found himself laughing and smiling, finding excuses to keep the conversation going, to have another drink, to relax and be together. And then, when they moved on, oh, his heart would flutter and his skin would burn and he would cling so desperately to Gumshoe, as if he could hold on tight enough to never have to let go.

But he did, inevitably. Sometimes Gumshoe stayed the night and sometimes he didn’t but either way he left. Edgeworth would stare at the ceiling and let shame overwhelm him. He had no right to feel this way. It wasn’t fair to Gumshoe, to have attached such feelings to these encounters. They weren’t together, they weren’t dating or in a proper relationship. They were just… in a mutually beneficial arrangement. He couldn’t change the terms of that arrangement.

That was all an excuse, of course, wild justification. The truth was that it hurt. It hurt so much. There was this strange tightness in his chest whenever Gumshoe left. When Gumshoe greeted him at work, absolutely normal, like they were still nothing but coworkers, his throat felt like it might close up. Every gesture, every cup of tea or encouraging word, was overanalyzed for some indication that Gumshoe felt anything new, if anything had changed, because so much had changed. But there was nothing. Gumshoe never changed.

And really, why would he? Free beer and convenient sex wasn’t enough to overcome years of underappreciation and mistreatment. Edgeworth had never been cruel, at least, but he’d hardly been kind either. There was no reason to believe Gumshoe felt anything significant towards him. No reason to believe he could. All he had was fantasies, clinging desperately to a tone of voice or an accidental touch. None of it meant what he wanted it to mean.

The last night they slept together, Edgeworth visited Gumshoe’s home. It had been some time since he’d been to the apartment, but it hadn’t changed either. He’d come to appreciate that the tidiness of the place was genuine, a combination of Gumshoe’s surprisingly neat habits and honestly not owning much. 

Gumshoe answered the door with his usual smile. “C’mon in.” Gumshoe stepped back, eyes going wide. “Hey! You brought beer!”

Edgeworth lifted the case, and Gumshoe took it without much effort. “Yes, I thought since you like it so much, you may as well have it.” A parting gift, he didn’t say.

“Wow, thanks!” Gumshoe put the case on his kitchen counter and patted it. “That’s the good stuff. Oh, and look what I got!” He opened the fridge and pulled out a black box. Edgeworth frowned at it while Gumshoe fiddled with it until a red spout poked out of the side. Gumshoe grabbed a glass - he had gotten a proper wine glass at some point, but it had broken and was yet to be replaced - and put it under the spout. “Check it out!”

Edgeworth watched as a pale liquid poured from the spout. It looked like white wine. When Gumshoe handed him the glass, he realized with dawning horror that it was white wine. Out of a box.

“Oh dear,” he said.

Gumshoe grinned. “Isn’t it neat?” he said proudly. “It’s cheaper than most stuff, and it keeps for, like, weeks in the box! You don’t have to worry about an open bottle. Plus even I can’t screw up pouring it.”

Edgeworth stared at the glass. Maybe it was a good thing he was calling this off, if Gumshoe thought that boxed wine was acceptable to serve. This whole relationship had been terrible for him. He’d debased himself in so many ways, and now - was he really going to drink this? This far, no further.

Gumshoe was looking at him expectantly.

Damn.

He sniffed it cautiously, just to ensure it wasn’t literal gasoline, before taking a delicate sip. To his shock, it was okay. Not great, by any means, not exactly something he’d pair with fine cuisine, but drinkable. Not even the worst he’d ever had. 

His surprise must have shown on his face because Gumshoe laughed. “It’s good, right? Is it good?”

“Hmm.” Edgeworth took another sip, deeper this time. “It’s… certainly acceptable.” Then he tilted the glass back to drain it, because Gumshoe was looking at him so proudly and smiling so wide and he’d remembered what he’d come here to do and he needed a drink. He handed the empty glass to Gumshoe, who promptly refilled it and handed it back.

So he drank it again.

“Woah,” said Gumshoe, watching Edgeworth chug. “Thirsty, huh?”

Edgeworth finished the glass and set it down. “You could say that,” he gasped, wiping his mouth.

Gumshoe chuckled and stepped in close. “Just can’t wait, huh?”

“Not exactly,” Edgeworth muttered, but he couldn’t elaborate because Gumshoe bent down and kissed him. His head was already swimming from the wine and the lack of air, or maybe that was just the effect of Gumshoe running a hand down his back and pulling him close.

He should stop this. It wouldn’t be right, to sleep with Gumshoe when he just knew he was here to end things, to use him and then abandon him. He should push him away, say what he’d come to say, and leave. That was the right thing to do. That was the best way to do this. And all he had to do was figure out how to tear himself out of Gumshoe’s arms. 

He turned his head slightly, breaking off the kiss, and Gumshoe pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, concern knotting his brow.

“I need to tell you something,” Edgeworth answered. He couldn’t look.

“What’s up?” When Edgeworth didn’t reply, Gumshoe rubbed his shoulders. “Hey,” he said gently, “you can talk to me. I’m listening.”

“It’s difficult to say.” His heart was pounding.

Gumshoe nodded and stepped away, and the room seemed so cold without him nearby. “It’s okay,” he said, hands raised gently. “I’m listening if you wanna talk.”

He didn’t want to, that was the problem. He wanted to throw his arms around Gumshoe and pull him close and never, never let go. He couldn’t do that either. He couldn’t do anything.

Gumshoe tilted his head, frowning. “Miles?”

That did it. He surged forward and kissed Dick, whatever resolve he had left shattering. Dick, for his part, accepted the kiss smoothly, a hand gently supporting his back. He didn’t resist when Miles grabbed the fabric of his shirt or started tugging at his clothes.

He did, however, have something else to say. When Miles dropped back to take a breath, Dick said, “Did you want to talk?”

“No,” Miles said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to - to even think about it.”

Dick smiled, and it was so warm and soft and Miles felt like he would burst into tears if it went away. “Okay,” Dick said, before kissing him again. 

Miles sank into the kiss like a bed of feathers. It was selfish, but he let Dick lead him to the bed and lay him down. One moment, one final moment of happiness; he couldn’t resist. It was selfish and cruel and horrible but Dick was kissing him so softly it brought tears to his eyes. 

Dick slipped away, and Miles opened his eyes to see him hovering above him, looking worried. “You okay?”

“I - I’m fine,” Miles insisted.

“Are you sure? You don’t look okay.”

“I - “ Miles blinked away the tears. “I’m not,” he confessed, and it felt like weakness. “Please, don’t stop. I want - I need you.”

It hurt like hell, just to say the words, to admit it, because he meant them so much more than he’d ever be able to tell Dick. And Dick would never - could never - not with him, not with this messed up wreck of a person. This night, this moment, was all he would ever get. That’s why he started crying again when Dick bent down and kissed him, lay down next to him, pulled him close and stroked his hair and whispered into his ear.

Miles nuzzled against Dick’s neck, lips gently brushing against whatever skin they reached. He felt - strange. He wasn’t thinking about Dick’s body, his strong arms, those muscles in his back, all the little pieces he’d grown addicted to. He was thinking about his eyes, and his smile, and his goofy laugh, and how blissful it had been to fall asleep in his arms. He wanted sex, but he wasn’t thinking of the grunts and sweat and that sweet final moment of release. He just - he wanted to be close to Dick, so close, closer than ever before. He wanted to be with Dick. He wanted to pull him close and breathe together and feel their hearts beating together and - and -

Was this love?

“Please,” he whispered, placing a hand on Dick’s cheek. He couldn’t say it, didn’t know how to voice all these thoughts - they weren’t even thoughts, were they, just desperate longings - but somehow Dick understood. He always did, always gave Miles exactly what he needed.

“Relax, honey,” Dick murmured, his lips pressed against Miles’s scalp. “I’ll take care of you.”

His hands started to move, and Miles sighed and moved with them, arching his back as one traced his spine. The other slid down his side. They came together and started carefully unbuttoning Miles’s shirt. The whole time Dick was mumbling, telling Miles he was good and that he’d take care of him and to relax and that he was safe and a thousand other sweet nothings that fluttered like flower petals into a blanket over Miles’s tender heart. By the time Dick was sliding his hands up Miles’s bare chest Miles was nearly sobbing, overwhelmed.

Dick paused for a moment, hands stilled at Miles’s sides. “Do you want me to keep going,” he asked, leaning in close, “or should I stop?”

Miles felt just about ready to burst, either into tears or confession. He managed to catch his breath long enough to sob, “Don’t stop.”

Dick kissed his cheek, salty with tears. His voice was a gentle rumble, soothing vibrations working away at the knot of agony inside him. He only pulled away for a moment to pull off his own shirt, and when he returned Miles reached and pulled him down to lie on top of him, skin against skin, and held him there tightly, full of warmth. Dick let him, folding down onto him, solid and safe. 

Miles could almost be satisfied with this, just this, forever, but something inside him wanted more. This wasn’t close enough. “Closer,” he whispered, wondering if it would make any sense.

Dick kissed him on the neck and withdrew, and for a moment of terror Miles thought he’d gone too far, he’d pushed his limits and this was over. But then Dick’s fingers curled into his waistband, and he sighed with relief as he removed first Miles’s pants, then his own. 

Dick arched over him then, kissing him more fiercely, one hand holding him up and the other working its way between them. Miles gasped as Dick gently stroked him. The slow, gentle caresses that had been so good for his heart hadn’t done much for his libido, but now it flared, the need inside him taking on an edge. He moaned, letting his eyes close and his head loll back.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

Once again Dick pulled back, and once again Miles feared he’d overstepped, revealed too much, broken the unspoken limits of this relationship. But he didn’t go far, just reaching across the bed, his body still covering Miles like a canopy, and when he came back he was holding the little clear bottle of lube and a foil packet. “Should I keep going?” he asked, peering down into Miles’s eyes with - with emotions Miles couldn’t place.

Miles nodded, so Dick gently spread his legs and knelt between them. One hand worked its way under him, one slick finger slipped into him and he gasped, arching off the bed. Dick stopped again, his other hand resting on Miles’s knee. “Should I stop?” he asked.

“No,” Miles moaned. Tears were filling his eyes again, and he couldn’t tell why, because Dick was - Dick was - “Please don’t stop,” he managed to say, his voice cracking. “Please, I - I need - “

“Don’t worry, honey,” Dick said, stroking Miles’s hip tenderly. “I gotcha.”

His finger started to move and Miles cried out, a wordless plea, because the lighting coursing through his body was so brilliant and sharp and he couldn’t stand the thought of it ending. Dick kept going, slow, gentle, firm, perfect.

“N-need you,” Miles managed to gasp between heartbeats. He needed Dick closer, he needed to feel his heat, he needed to hold him inside him and be with him so inextricably that they would never have to be apart again.

Dick didn’t respond right away, this time, fingers still working away, rendering Miles unable to speak beyond begging. Soon, or maybe after a lifetime, he withdrew, leaving Miles gasping for breath and on the verge of completely unwinding.

Dick was holding the little foil condom packet. Miles, without thinking, reached out and grabbed him by the wrist. “No,” he said.

Dick tilted his head. “No?” he replied, waving the packet.

“No. I - I want - “ Miles fell back down, embarrassed. He threw an arm across his eyes, barely able to face his own desires. “I want to feel you,” he whispered.

Dick pressed a kiss against Miles’s knee. “Okay,” he said. “Ready?”

Miles swallowed hard and nodded. Dick moved slightly, settling his weight between Miles’s thighs. Miles tensed despite himself, only to give out completely as Dick slid into him. He sighed as much in relief as in pleasure as Dick eased into him, slowly, deliberately, stopping when he was completely in. Miles closed his eyes again, just to feel. This, this was perfect, this was everything he wanted, this was - oh. “Darling,” he whispered, barely louder than a breath.

Dick came down on top of him, low enough to kiss him, and their bodies pressed together. Miles wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, so close, oh, darling, beloved, angel.

“Is this still what you want?” Dick murmured, his lips hovering just above Miles’s.

“This is everything I want,” Miles replied.

Dick kissed him, soft and sweet. And then Dick was moving inside him, like sunlight breaking over the horizon, and Miles simply melted into him. Their bodies sighed, their hearts raced, their lips met. All the while Miles was hyper aware of every single discreet sensation - his fingertips on Dick’s back, Dick’s tongue flicking against his lips, the taste of salt, the smell of sweat, the coarse sheets at his back, everything.

Something was swelling inside him, and he almost didn’t want it to. He didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want it to end, because when it did, it would be gone forever. He’d never feel this way again. He’d found paradise, and the gates would be locked behind him. Almost reluctantly, he was dragged into orgasm, at the same time as Dick, and whatever boundary still existed between them faded away as they shared in one perfect moment of light.

Then it was over, and they were two again. Dick grunted and withdrew and fell to the side, one arm draped across Miles’s chest. Miles could feel the tear tracks drying across his face and swiped a hand over them fruitlessly. He felt weak, exhausted down to his very bones. And as the exhilaration faded, shame took its place.

He’d come here to end this. He knew that. He’d known it the whole time. He shouldn’t have allowed - he shouldn’t have done that. He couldn’t excuse himself from it, no matter how much he wanted to. He’d let his own selfishness control him, and now -

Now this would be so much worse.

He sat up, trying not to make too much noise, and started gathering his clothes. Gumshoe rolled over, watching him. “Are you leaving?” he asked.

Edgeworth focused on his clothes. “I think it’s for the best that we end these encounters.” It was too abrupt. He knew that the moment he said it. But there was no other way he could say it.

“Oh.” Gumshoe looked blankly at him. “Okay.”

Edgeworth stood up, finishing the buttons on his shirt.

“Um. Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all.” He wasn’t looking at Gumshoe, but it wasn’t on purpose. He just happened to be facing away and focused on his clothes. “I just think it’s time we wrapped this up.”

“Right. Yeah. Okay.” Gumshoe’s voice was soft. “I guess if you say so it’s probably the right thing to do.”

Edgeworth took a deep breath. “Good. I’m glad you agree.” He finally turned to look at Gumshoe, and the expression on his face was confused and hurt like an abandoned dog. It made his stomach lurch. “Goodbye, Gumshoe,” he said, before his resolve could slip. “It’s been nice.”

“Yeah.” Gumshoe wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead staring down at his blankets. “Um. Goodbye, I guess.”

Edgeworth left quickly, shutting the door behind him without looking back. This was the best thing to do. The situation had already gotten messy, much more than he’d ever intended. He was never supposed to get so involved in the first place. And now, now his chest hurt and his mouth was dry and his legs were weak and at least he made it to his car before the tears started again.

Chapter 17: Normalcy

Summary:

After all, it was only temporary.

Gumshoe had never acted differently at work, not since the very first time. Edgeworth was surprised anyway when he came in and was greeted with the same cheery salute and smile as always. Gumshoe was hardly a symbol of professionalism, and yet he seemed an expert at keeping his personal feelings from affecting his work. And Edgeworth would be an excellent judge.

Still, he did seem a bit more… subdued than usual. It was just in the quiet moments, when he wasn’t occupied with a task, or when he thought Edgeworth wasn’t looking. A little less energy to his dusting, a little less enthusiasm at lunchtime. Differences so small that Edgeworth might have thought he was imagining them if he didn’t know exactly the cause.

But it was for the best. Gumshoe would get over it. It was infinitely better for there to be a clean break now, before the feelings involved got any stronger. Gumshoe was no doubt feeling rejected, and had been deprived of a reliable sexual partner. Perfectly valid reasons to be a little down.

As for Edgeworth himself, well. The way he felt just reinforced his decision. Because if it hurt this much now, he couldn’t imagine how bad it could have gotten if he’d allowed it to continue.

He was doing a much worse job of staying professional. He caught himself watching Gumshoe at work, not to monitor him or for any real reason. His eyes just drifted his direction. When they spoke he hesitated, like there was something else he wanted to say, something else he meant and just couldn’t figure out. When they accidentally brushed against each other he stiffened and froze. And occasionally Gumshoe would look at him with those eyes, those sad eyes, the abandoned dog waiting to be found again. They followed him home, and he thought about them through the evening. He struggled to sleep and woke alone.

It was Friday afternoon when he got a call from Phoenix. He had a strong suspicion of what it would be about, but answered anyway.

“Hey!” Phoenix’s voice was a little too loud, and mildly distorted; he still refused to get a modern phone. “So tonight, six, drinks at the Copper.”

The Copper Penny was a cheap bar, practically a dive, and not a place Edgeworth would choose to frequent. He sighed. Once again, Phoenix had failed to inform him of the plans he was making, and he wasn’t in a social mood. “Really, Wright, can’t I ask for more than two hours notice for once?”

“C’mon, it’s for Gumshoe! We gotta cheer him up.”

Edgeworth frowned. “Cheer him up?”

“Yeah, didn’t you hear? He got dumped. I figured you’d already know.”

“I am aware,” Edgeworth snapped. Dumped. His heart was pounding. “I’m curious as to how you found out.”

“Oh, well, I guess he told Pearl and Pearl told Maya and Maya told me. I didn’t even know he was seeing someone! And Pearl said he seemed heartbroken, but then again, she can exaggerate these things.”

“Hmm.” Pearl was young, and did tend to exaggerate; she seemed convinced that Phoenix and Maya were deeply in love. So there was a good chance she was exaggerating this as well.

“And he’s been so glum all week, like, pretty much every time I’ve seen him he’s had that sad look.”

Not around me. “So you think the solution is to take him drinking.”

“Nothing better for a broken heart than a night with friends!”

A broken heart.

“And hey, speaking of,” Phoenix continued. “What happened with that guy you were seeing? Tell me you didn’t chicken out and - “

“I think it’s best,” Edgeworth interrupted, “that I not be there.”

“Huh?”

“But thank you.”

“Wait, what - ?”

Edgeworth hung up. Thank you, he said. For what? For inviting him? For caring about Gumshoe? For this renewed ache in his chest, worse than ever?

Gumshoe felt dumped. Gumshoe was sad. Gumshoe had a broken heart.

Had he cared?

Had Edgeworth been terribly wrong?

There was still at least an hour left in his workday but Edgeworth left the office anyway. He couldn’t take the chance that he might bump into Gumshoe after that conversation, and he needed a drink. A real one.

He went straight home, locked the door, and poured a glass of wine. Then, after drinking it, he poured another. He carried the bottle with him to his little-used living room, the same room he’d spent many hours on the couch with Gumshoe. Now he sat on that same couch, alone, trying not to think.

 

When his phone rang, he reached for it without opening his eyes. It wasn’t in its usual spot on the nightstand, so he sat up - no, he was already sitting up. He had fallen asleep on the couch, the TV still on and playing some advertisements, the empty wine bottle on the carpet by his feet. His phone was on the table, the bright light illuminating the space, playing its harsh little song. Edgeworth grabbed it without checking the ID.

“Hello?” he mumbled. His mouth tasted like sandpaper.

The other side of the phone was noisy, but the speaker was unmistakable. “L-listen,” said Gumshoe, and from that one word it was obvious he was stinking drunk. “Listen, listen. Jus… just fer once, you listen. Cuz I got somethin’ to say!”

In the background, a couple other voices could be heard. “Yeah, you tell ‘em!” cried a young woman, almost certainly Maya.

The other voice, which Edgeworth recognized at once, was unsurprisingly Phoenix Wright. “Wait,” he was saying, “wait wait wait, Gumshoe, that’s not your ex! You called Edgeworth! Gumshoe, don’t - “

“I had a lotta things I never said,” Gumshoe continued. “And - and now I’m gonna! I’m g - I’m gonna tell you!”

“Give him a piece of your mind!” shouted Maya.

“Gumshoe, don’t, that’s not - “ There was a sound like a scuffle, and Edgeworth’s mind filled in the image of Phoenix lunging for the phone and Gumshoe effortlessly holding it out of reach. “Edgeworth! If you can hear me, he’s trying to call his ex but he dialed wrong! Hang up! Gumshoe, you’re calling Edgeworth!”

“So listen, listen - are you listening?”

“Yes,” said Edgeworth. “Yes, I’m listening.”

“Okay. Okay.” There was a long pause. “Listen. I - I really liked you, okay? I liked you, like, a lot. And then you just - I know you never felt that way about me. So I’m sorry. I went an’ screwed it up, and I’m sorry. And I lied to you because I always liked you and I pretended I didn’t and I think that’s bad? That’s - hey Maya,” his voice got quieter as he turned away from the phone, “is it bad to pretend you don’t like somebody?” There was some murmuring before Gumshoe spoke again, back to full volume. “Okay. Okay but… but I liked you a lot. I loved you. And - and I still do, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You - you were always too good for me. I knew that. I pretended maybe it wasn’t true, for a while, and it was fun to pretend. An’ - and you were pretendin’ too, so I thought it was okay. I can’t pretend anymore, though, because I love you.

“Um. There was another… another thing, hm. Oh. Oh! I want you to know, when I said I was thinking about you, I meant it. I know you thought it was a joke but it wasn’t. So… so there.

“So I’m - I’m sorry. I’m sorry for pretendin’. You were too good for me, and I’m glad you finally figured it out. And - and I hope you find somebody good enough for you. I mean that. I do.”

“Oh, Gumshoe…” Maya’s voice was closer now. “That’s not what I thought you wanted to say…”

“Love you,” Gumshoe mumbled. “Bye.”

The line went dead. Edgeworth dropped his arm, blinking. It was the middle of the night and he was still half asleep and it had been hard to understand him and did Gumshoe just say - ?

The phone pinged, and Edgeworth snatched it back up. It was a message from Phoenix. He frowned.

“he thought he was callin his ex not u he’s really drunk plz don’t be mad at bun”

Edgeworth sighed and typed in an answer.

“Take him home.”

“on our way lol”

Edgeworth rubbed his forehead; he could feel a headache coming on. Numbly, he pulled himself up off the couch and made the journey to his bedroom, where he could at least pass out in bed. His head hurt and his chest hurt and his throat hurt and he’d made a huge, huge mistake. He’d started making the mistake a long time ago, and was just now facing the repercussions. Because he - because Gumshoe - because Dick had said -

He wished he was in court, where he could hear it all over and over again, picking it apart until it made sense. He’d make Gumshoe repeat it until he was satisfied, until he understood, until he knew what to do next. In court these things were simple.

As he lay there, thinking over the phone call, he finally narrowed it down to a few points. They didn’t make sense, but they were the best he could do.

Gumshoe loved him. Gumshoe thought he wasn’t good enough. Gumshoe thought Edgeworth didn’t care about him at all.

This had gone so, so wrong.

Chapter 18: Hangover

Summary:

They need to talk.

He woke the next morning with a mild but persistent headache and no clearer ideas about how to proceed. A quick check of his phone showed the record of the call and the messages he’d exchanged with Wright, which was proof he hadn’t imagined it.

The best thing to do would be to ignore it and go about his day. Gumshoe would no doubt be regretting the call if he remembered it at all; it would be a kindness to forget it. With his phone in his pocket, Edgeworth heaved himself out of bed and set about his day.

The call was not so easily forgotten. Edgeworth had plenty to do, even on his day off - there was work to catch up on, articles from the week that he’d bookmarked for when he had time, a few minor chores he took care of himself instead of leaving to the cleaners. He found himself jumping from activity to activity, looking for one that would be an adequate distraction; when he settled on something, his mind inevitably wandered to the call.

Finally, he gave in. He pulled the phone from his pocket and typed in a message to Gumshoe.

“Good morning.”

Simple, direct. Cold? He deleted it and tried again.

“I want to talk to you about last night.”

No, no. Too… ominous.

“So about that phone call…”

Ugh. Too casual.

Eventually he did settle on a message: “I think we need to talk. Would you come over?” It was, he hoped, casual and friendly enough to avoid causing unnecessary worry. He clicked “send” before he could think about it, then spent a few minutes worrying about it anyway.

 

He didn’t get a response for nearly an hour, during which he decided to water his houseplants, decided he needed more houseplants, started researching houseplants, and was rather taken with a lovely aquarium setup with plants growing on the cover. The message came in time to distract him before he started researching fish care.

“ok”

It wasn’t much. Edgeworth bit his lip and took a deep breath. Maybe this was a bad idea. What the hell was he even going to say? I thought you’d be easy to fuck because I didn’t care about you? I had to stop sleeping with you because I think I’m in love with you? I think you said you love me and that might be even worse? He should have ignored it. He should have forgotten the phone call. He should have stuck to the original plan of pretending none of this ever happened and dying alone. It would have been easy - he was used to being lonely and miserable.

Maybe that was why he didn’t want to be lonely and miserable again.

 

The afternoon stretched out into a chilly evening; the sun set earlier than seemed fair. Edgeworth sat in his kitchen, toying with a glass of wine he’d been too nervous to drink. He’d thought it would help to loosen up a little - but that was how he’d started this whole mess, wasn’t it?

The knock he’d been waiting for still managed to startle him. He left the wine on the counter when he went to answer the door. There stood Gumshoe, in his trench coat, staring at the ground like a guilty kid.

“Hi,” he said, not lifting his eyes to meet Edgeworth’s gaze.

Edgeworth stepped back to make room in the doorway. “Thank you for coming,” he said. After a moment, when Gumshoe hadn't budged, he added, “Please come in.”

“Um. I’m - I’m not sure if I should.” Gumshoe rubbed the back of his head, wincing. “I can’t stay long. I, uh, I just wanted to say - “

“I think you said enough last night.” Edgeworth immediately regretted the interruption; Gumshoe shrank back. He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Please,” he forced himself to say calmly. “I want to talk to you. We can’t do that out here. It’s freezing,” he added when Gumshoe still hesitated. “And if you catch a cold because you’re being stubborn I won’t accept you calling out sick at work.”

This last part was perhaps a bit unfair, but it was effective nevertheless. Gumshoe sighed and shuffled past Edgeworth, standing awkwardly in the entryway. Edgeworth waited for him to take off his coat; he didn’t. But there were more important battles to be fought, so he didn’t press the point. Instead he just led him to the living room.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked as they passed the kitchen.

Gumshoe shook his head. “No, thanks. I think I’ve had enough of that.”

Edgeworth nodded, and told himself that Gumshoe wasn’t clever enough to reference their shared metaphor as some veiled way of ending the relationship.

They sat across from each other, Gumshoe on the couch and Edgeworth in an armchair. A moment of silence stretched out into a minute, and then longer, as they both looked anywhere but at each other.

Finally, Edgeworth took the dive. “Do you remember what you said last night?”

Gumshoe looked guilty; he hadn’t looked anything but. “Not all of it,” he confessed. “But, um, I got most of it. And Phoe - Mr. Wright told me the rest. He doesn’t know,” he added, glancing up quickly. “He thinks I called you by accident and I was supposed to be talking to someone else. But I didn’t tell him, so you don’t gotta worry about it.”

“I’m not worried,” lied Edgeworth. Well, maybe not a complete lie. He wasn’t worried about that. Whatever Phoenix thought about the relationship between Gumshoe and himself was far, far down on his list of priorities.

“Okay. That’s good. Um. I - I’m sorry. About the phone call, and about what I said, and about… about everything.” He swallowed hard. “I know I screwed up. And I’m really, really sorry.”

Edgeworth leaned forward. “What, exactly, do you think you have to apologize for?”

Gumshoe opened his mouth, but Edgeworth raised his hand to cut him off. “That’s not - what I meant to say was that you have nothing to be sorry for. You haven’t done anything wrong. I…” He couldn’t put together the words. Instead, he asked, “Did you mean it?”

Gumshoe was quiet. Then, in a voice so soft he could barely hear it, he spoke. “Yeah.”

Something inside him went slack and Edgeworth collapsed into the chair, a hand across his eyes. He pulled the hair back from his eyes and started to speak.

“When we started this, I thought you were… convenient. Someone I already trusted, who was looking for the same thing I was - a partner for a physical relationship. It made sense. But as we spent more time together, I started to… think of you differently. It became less simple. And I thought it was best to keep things as simple as possible. So when I began to feel something beyond the constraints of our arrangement, the best move was to - to end it. Before it got worse.” He laughed, brief and humorless. “But that just made it worse, didn’t it?”

Gumshoe frowned, his pout taken over by a furrowed brow. “I don’t get it, sir.”

Edgeworth sighed. “No, I’ve never been good at this, have I?” He shook his head and sat up straight. “I am trying to tell you that I didn’t call it off because I was done with you, or something you’d done, or because I didn’t want you anymore. In fact, exactly the opposite. We can’t keep doing this because I - I’ve developed feelings for you.”

Gumshoe nodded slowly, and Edgeworth watched as the ideas worked their way through his mind. Finally he looked up. “Wait… are you - are you saying you like me?”

Edgeworth briefly reconsidered his answer. But it really was no use - even now, he just wanted to see Gumshoe smiling again. “Yes,” he said. “To put it simply, I - like you.” He tried not to wince at the word. Gumshoe was gazing at him, eyes wide, mouth stretching into a wide grin; Edgeworth had to look away. “So I hope you can understand why this can’t continue.”

That wide grin collapsed. “What? But - but why?”

“It’s too complicated,” Edgeworth said. “It just won’t do. But I didn’t want to leave you thinking it was something you’d done wrong.”

“Wh - hang on!” Gumshoe leapt up from his seat. “I might not remember everything I said but I know I told you I liked you!”

“You did,” replied Edgeworth. “You made that quite clear.”

“Okay, it was one thing when I thought it was just me. But if I like you and you like me, then what’s the problem?”

“We shouldn’t get more involved.” Edgeworth still couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Gumshoe. He focused his gaze instead on a spot on the floor. “It would be difficult.”

“Uh-uh, nope. I’m gonna need a better reason than that, pal. Lots of things are difficult, and we still do them.” He was standing over Edgeworth now, glowering down at him. Edgeworth had occasionally witnessed Gumshoe successfully intimidating a suspect, and wondered how anyone could be fooled by such a gentle person. But he was feeling it now, and shrank into his chair under the weight of Gumshoe’s glare and his own guilt.

Guilt?

“I’m your boss,” Edgeworth said. “It’s unethical.”

“It happens all the time! I think HR has a form. And it hasn’t been a problem yet, right?”

“It’s different. It would be - a, a relationship, an actual relationship would be…” Why was Gumshoe questioning him? And why on this, of all things?

Gumshoe took a deep breath. “You’re usually right, sir. But…” He hesitated, but stood up as straight as he could manage to deliver his next line. “Sometimes you don’t take care of yourself.”

Edgeworth glared up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Sometimes you - you don’t eat, or you work for way too long. And I - I think - “ He squeezed his eyes shut like he was cresting a roller coaster and tensing for the drop. “I think you don’t want to take care of yourself.”

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow, shocked out of his misery by Gumshoe’s audacity. “Ex-cuse me?”

“You don’t want to! You, you think you shouldn’t, or that you don’t deserve it, or something. But that’s not true! You deserve nice things, and you deserve to be happy. But you make bad choices, like you don’t stop to eat, or you stay at work way too late and can’t rest, or you - you pick up some guy at a bar instead of figuring out your feelings. I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but, y’know, that’s not really healthy. That’s why it’s my job to take care of you instead. And I think - I think - “ Gumshoe was practically shouting now, fists squeezed tight at his sides. “I think you’re scared!”

“I’m hardly scared of you,” said Edgeworth, but Gumshoe barreled on.

“Not of me, but of being happy! You think every moment has to be spent makin’ up for something you did wrong. But it doesn’t! And you don’t gotta! You - I - I want you to be happy! You deserve to be happy. Sir.”

Edgeworth stared.

Then he snorted.

Then he laughed, loud and full, like he’d rarely laughed before. He laughed, curled up in his seat, bent in half with the force of it. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until his stomach ached and his throat hurt, because Gumshoe was right. Eventually he caught his breath and looked up at a befuddled Gumshoe, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Detective Dick Gumshoe,” he said, “what am I supposed to do with you?”

“Uh…” Gumshoe rubbed his neck. “Maybe just… do what you want to?”

And Edgeworth laughed again. He laughed, and he reached out and grabbed Gumshoe by the wrist, and he yanked on him and pulled him tumbling into his lap, where he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close and kissed him, over and over, endlessly.

Eventually he murmured, “This is a terrible idea.”

Gumshoe, bracing himself awkwardly against the chair in an attempt not to crush Edgeworth, nodded. “I’m not sure how much weight this chair can hold.”

Edgeworth laughed again, brushing his hair out of his face. “You have to know that’s not what I meant.”

“You sure about that?” Gumshoe was grinning, and as he stood he pulled Edgeworth up with him, pulling him close with an arm around his waist. “‘cuz I dunno what else it could be. Can’t be this, right?”

Edgeworth snorted, burying his face in Gumshoe’s shoulder. Not a drop of alcohol in him but he felt giddy, light, like the world was swirling around him and he could just enjoy the ride because he had the firmest anchor holding him. “This is a terrible idea,” he repeated, nuzzling against Gumshoe’s neck.

Gumshoe cleared his throat. He looked up to see Gumshoe frowning, studying him closely, like he was thinking really hard. “Um… do - do you mean it, though, sir?” he said quietly. “I mean that - you think it’s a bad idea? Should we stop?”

“No,” Edgeworth answered immediately. He couldn’t let the question stand, not for a second, but that didn’t mean he knew what to say next. God, he was going to have to say it, wasn’t he? Poor perfect Gumshoe, too damn loyal, too damn kind. He needed instruction, he needed to be told what to do, and without that he’d never - he’d never figure it out, would he? And they’d never get anywhere, even after all this.

Edgeworth took a breath. “I - “ Suddenly Gumshoe’s eyes were too deep, too wide, and Edgeworth had to duck his head. He rested his forehead against Gumshoe’s shoulder, steeling himself to try again. “I - Dick, I - this is a bad idea. But I don’t want to stop. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

“Then why’s it a bad idea?”

Miles screwed his eyes shut to focus, like he was straining to remember some long-forgotten script. “I’m your boss,” he said, but he knew it was a weak argument. It did happen all the time, and HR did have a form. There was a certain amount of scandal involved, to be sure, but it wouldn’t rise beyond office gossip. Any professionalism had been thrown out the first time they slept together anyway. And if his career had survived a murder accusation, it could certainly survive this.

“You’re not my boss,” Gumshoe replied seriously. Edgeworth raised his head to see Gumshoe staring down at him. “You’re my partner.”

Oh, honestly, ridiculous. How could this be real? A silly smile took over Edgeworth’s face, and it stayed there as Gumshoe tucked a finger under his chin and lifted it, until he bent down for a kiss. Edgeworth sighed, closing his eyes. Gumshoe was holding him, big dumb beautiful Gumshoe, and kissing him, and making his heart race. Gumshoe’s arms were around him, and Gumshoe’s hand braced the back of his head, and Gumshoe’s body cradled him. No one else. Why would it ever be anyone else?

They’d done this so many times, but never quite like this. He was sure that the heart in his chest was beating in time with Gumshoe’s, that if he pressed close enough he’d feel both hearts pulling themselves closer. Edgeworth helped, of course, removing any distance between them. Gumshoe stood fast; Edgeworth could lean his entire body weight on the man and he wouldn’t budge. He’d always been like that, a rock-solid support, and it had never occurred to Edgeworth how much he valued it until that support was almost taken away. What a stupid thing he’d done. But if one good thing came out of his terrible, horrible mistake, it was the realization of how deeply he loved Gumshoe.

He could say it. He should say it, before he ruined everything again, before cowardice overtook him and he fled from this bit of happiness. Had he said it? Or had he danced around it, avoided it, even at the hour of confession? He opened his mouth but Gumshoe kissed him again and it was like a shot of whiskey, fire on his tongue and down his throat and down to the tips of his fingers as they scrabbled at Gumshoe’s shoulders, sides, arms, back, whatever they could reach.

Miles took a step backwards, pulling him along. Dick seemed to get the picture because he let himself be guided to the bedroom, only once tripping on something and accidentally pinning Miles to the wall. Miles had his revenge, pushing him down onto the bed and jumping in after him.

Dick grinned as Miles climbed on top of him. “Are you gonna cry the entire time again?”

Miles frowned, fake outrage in his voice. “I didn’t cry the entire time.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Miles shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, the playful tone fading, “about that.”

“‘S alright,” Dick answered, nuzzling against Miles’s neck. “You needed me.”

“No, I mean - “ Miles shrugged him off. “I came over knowing I was going to end things. I shouldn’t have slept with you. I should have stopped it. I’m sorry.”

Dick nodded. “Can’t say I wasn’t pretty bummed out,” he replied, “but I get it now. You needed me. And I’d do anything to make you stop crying.”

Miles laughed, but Dick looked back up, frowning. He reached up and stroked Miles’s cheek. “Hey,” he said, “I mean it. I’m not jus’ being smooth or droppin’ a line. You’ve cried enough for a lifetime, sir. I’d do anything to keep you from cryin’ another drop.”

Miles was about to respond with a laugh or a kiss or something, but he stopped himself. He didn’t deflect or laugh it off or make some snide comment. Instead, he listened. He took a breath and let it in, accepted that Dick meant it. For him.

Dick was right.

It was terrifying.

It must have shown on his face - or something must have, because god knows it could have been anything - because Dick rubbed his back in gentle circles. “You needed me,” he said. “I like it better when you’re happy. I like it best when I get to make you happy.”

Once again, Miles tried to listen. He tried to believe. It made his chest ache in a way he didn’t understand; it made him want to hide his face and deny it all. He sank down onto Dick’s chest with a shuddering breath and laid his cheek against him, where he could hear his heartbeat.

“I don’t deserve - “ He stopped himself, shook his head, tried again. “I don’t understand why you think I deserve you. I’ve been so cruel to you.”

“Nah,” Dick answered airily, stroking Miles’s hair. “I mean, maybe, but I’ve forgotten most of it, so it can’t really have been that bad.”

Miles smiled weakly. “If you’re trying to keep me from crying,” he said, raising his head, “you’re not doing a very good job.”

Dick chuckled. “Sorry, sir,” he said, lifting Miles’s chin with a finger. “Let me try again.” He kissed him; his lips were soft, and warm. Miles kissed back, lifting himself up on his elbows, shifting his position to once again be hovering over Dick.

“I can’t think of what else to say,” he murmured. “I’m supposed to be good with words.”

“You are, sir,” Dick answered. “You’re real good, especially with the long, complicated ones. Maybe you just need more practice with the little ones.” He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “Like, ‘I love you.’”

Miles blinked and listened and accepted and dropped his face into the crook of Dick’s neck. “Stop,” he croaked. “I can’t - I can’t.” His heart was too raw to be so bare. It had been shielded so long that now it was too weak to withstand this onslaught.

Dick patted his back. “Would it be better if I kissed you some more instead?”

Miles lifted his head with a laugh. “Yes!” Kissing, he could handle. Kissing was easy, kissing was just action, just physical contact, just - no, it wasn’t just anything. It was the words that kept getting caught in his throat, pressed against Dick’s lips, whispered into his skin. His mind kept tripping over itself, tangled up in “shouldn’t” and “want to,” but his body -

His body had been loving Dick this whole time.

His mind would catch up.

Miles sank into Dick’s arms, their lips pressed together, sighing. He was straddling Dick’s hips, not really sure when that had happened, and one hand was sneaking under Dick’s shirt and he wasn’t sure when that had happened either. He let it, though, because Dick’s skin was so warm, and his chest was soft but strong. Something was stirring inside him, something new, something akin to the need he’d felt last time he was in Dick’s bed. This time, however, it wasn’t as desperate, because this wasn’t the last time. It was the first, and it was exhilarating.

More words, more feelings, more manic wonderings his mind couldn’t express, so overwhelmed by the miracle lying below him; he put them into his hands instead, pulling at Dick’s clothing to expose more. He tugged Dick’s shirt off over his head and kissed his chest, right above his heart, and his neck at the pulse point and his lips, his beautiful lips. Dick’s hands were working too; Miles’s shirt vanished, and then Dick’s hands stroked his bare back and he moaned, arching into the touch.

“You’re really beautiful,” Dick mumbled, and Miles laughed. “Don’t say you’re not.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Yeah you were.”

Miles laughed. Again? Had he ever laughed this much? He dropped his hands to Dick’s waistband only to realize with a start that Dick was ahead of him, dipping his hands down Miles’s pants to cup his ass and tug him close. Then Dick reared up, knocking Miles onto his back and looming over him. Miles threw his arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer, all heat and skin, his heart soaring.

The longer they kept this up, the more the strange new need swelled, so different and bright he couldn’t call it lust. His body rose to meet Dick’s, chest to chest, as he clutched at his back and his shoulders and anything that could bring him closer. Dick was kissing his neck, hands running down his sides. Miles couldn’t bear to let go, even for a moment, so he simply kissed whatever skin he could reach and clung to Dick with every ounce of strength.

Dick’s hands made their way in between them and Miles let them, almost reluctantly, loosening his grip enough for a space to open. Dick fumbled with Miles’s waistband, undoing the fastening, and slipped his hand under the elastic of his underwear. The contact made Miles hiss through his teeth, the need suddenly sharp and lively. His hips twitched up against Dick as he squirmed, unable to keep still as Dick kissed his chest and gently stroked him.

Miles moaned his name and Dick chuckled, lips pressed against Miles’s collarbone. He lifted himself further, freeing Miles from his weight, and backed away. “You’re gorgeous,” he sighed as Miles sat up, tugging off his own pants. “I mean, wow.”

Miles smiled and let his eyes trail down Dick’s body, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the soft swell of his belly, the blanket of dark hair. “You’re…” Gorgeous wasn’t quite the word, and handsome didn’t cut it. Virile? Robust? “Majestic,” he sighed, and was surprised when Dick bit his lip and squirmed bashfully.

“You mean it?”

“Absolutely.” Miles crawled forward and Dick scrambled backwards until he was pressed against the headboard, Miles sliding into his lap. Miles finally - finally! - got his hands on Dick’s pants and removed them, tossing them to the side. There was nothing left between them as he draped his arms around Dick’s neck, kissing him deep.

Miles took a breath. Without moving off Dick, he stretched to the side and dug through the little drawer on his nightstand, returning with a bottle of lube. He poured it into the palm of his hand before slicking it down Dick’s hard cock, drawing a gasp from him. Miles repeated the motion a few times, luxuriating in the little noises falling from Dick’s mouth, but the need was too strong to wait much longer. With his hand still working, he rearranged them both until he was straddling Dick, kneeling over him. Finally he braced himself against the headboard and, with a barely-restrained curse, sank onto Dick’s cock.

Warmth bloomed inside him, surprisingly gentle, like the weight of a thick blanket settling over him. Dick placed one hand on his hip and the other on his back, pulling him close. Miles allowed himself to fall forward, leaning against Dick’s chest, and sighed. He almost could cry at this, because Dick was holding him close and mumbling in his ear and kissing his neck. There was something divine about it, how even as they did this carnal, primal thing Dick still held him so gently and so close. He’d never felt so loved.

He let his body move on its own, his body that had known what he wanted and needed while his mind still struggled to understand. He ground down into Dick’s lap, moving in slow, easy circles. His breaths were slow and even, his chest rising and falling in time with his movements. His eyelids fluttered and he let his head fall against Dick’s shoulder. For a time there was nothing but the sounds of their breathing, soft sighs and gentle gasps.

Dick grunted, quietly, and his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly. But Miles had learned this by now, how to read him, so he sped up. Now their breaths grew shorter, and faster, and Dick whimpered, pressing his lips against Miles’s neck. In the space of a few moments the whimpers turned to moans and then, at last, a deep groan as he clutched at Miles, pulling him so impossibly close. Miles could feel Dick’s release inside him, hot and pulsing, and he sank into it even further.

When Dick’s breath returned, he slipped a hand between them, and now it was Miles who bit back a gasp as Dick wrapped his fingers around him. He rode the feeling, up against Dick’s hand and back down onto his still throbbing cock. He came easily, the warmth rolling over him in a gentle wave. Miles sighed, growing still, cradled in Dick’s arms.

They stayed that way for some time, sharing gentle kisses, the sweat cooling on their skin. Eventually Dick lowered Miles to the bed, laying beside him, arms still curled around him. Miles nuzzled against him, safe and secure in the shelter of his body. His mind was still reeling, loose and light from afterglow. Finally, he was able to release himself enough to say it. He pressed up against Dick’s chest, like he was saying the words directly to his heart, and whispered, “I love you.”

Dick stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head. “I love you too,” he answered, his voice comforting and deep.

Miles closed his eyes, letting himself sink out of consciousness. Tomorrow, they would wake, and Dick would make himself several cups of coffee and ruin Miles’s tea and flooring. By then his mind would be back, trying its damndest to stop him. He knew now, though, the secret that lay in Dick’s embrace.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!!! This is the longest thing I've ever written. 🥳 Shout out to javagirl98 for beta-reading, and also for cursing me with the original prompt! Also thank you to all the people who've been reading and commenting!!

If you like GumWorth, keep an eye peeled within the next week or so, because plans are in motion to schedule a GumWorth week for later this year and it'd be great for people to participate!!

Be excellent to each other. 🤙