DISCLAIMER: Capcom’s. I’m just playing.
NOTES: Written for the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme.
PROMPT: EDGEWORTH & PESS BONDING
Crack and/or fluff plz.
no sex involved :x

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Miles eyed the tan and black puppy warily as it yipped and jumped at his legs, wagging its tail. The furry little thing had large brown eyes ringed in black, exceptionally large paws, ears that pointed straight into the air as if on constant alert.

“What is this?” he asked dully, watching the puppy, not sure if he was allowed to touch it just yet.

“A dog,” came the reply. “All boys enjoy dogs.”

“So it’s mine?”

Manfred nodded. “Naturally. Your sister is young and far too busy to care for such a thing.”

The puppy reminded him of his father. He had promised Miles that he would get him one once that court case wrapped up… but instead his father died days before it happened, leaving him an orphan and under the care of the von Karmas. It had been three years since then, but the wound still felt fresh; he dreamt of his father’s death so very often.

If he was to grow, to forget about the loss of his father, Miles had to keep himself away from anything that brought memories of him.

Memories of Gregory.

“I never asked for it,” Miles said, crossing his arms. “Why would you do this for me?”

“He is one of the offspring from my elder daughter’s most recent brood. A long-haired German Shepherd, purebred. I imagined it would fit nicely into the home, as well as make a suitable gift for you.” Manfred clapped Miles on the shoulder and said, “You’ve been progressing well, Miles.”

Progressing… Miles lowered his head imperceptibly, watching the animal—the dog was a present for him becoming Manfred von Karma’s prosecuting protégé, which implied that he had to accept it whether he wanted to or not.

Reluctantly, he replied, “Thank you… sir.”

Manfred patted Miles again and said, “Of course, it is your duty to housebreak him, train him, care for his general well-being.”

It was what his father made him promise to do, when they discussed adding a dog to the Edgeworth household…

“Yes, sir.”

“Now then, I will leave you two to get acquainted.”

Miles continued to stare at the puppy until Manfred left his bedroom. Once the man was gone, Miles sat on the floor, cross-legged, in front of it. The puppy yipped and crawled into his lap, jumping happily as it attempted to lick and nip Miles’ face.

“I don’t like you,” the boy said, though his tone held no conviction.

He always wanted a German Shepherd, had greatly enjoyed it when Gregory brought him to the police station. His father had a lady friend who worked with the K-9 unit, and as a child Miles was always happiest when he was allowed to visit the dogs.

“I don’t want to keep you.”

Miles scratched the puppy behind the ears. His face was somber, so close to glowering, but when the puppy lapped excitedly at his hand, tail wagging to the point where it was almost violent, Miles bit back his smile. He waggled his fingers in front of the puppy’s face; in return the little German Shepherd nipped at him with his needle-sharp primary teeth.

“You aren’t something I want.”

The puppy barked, standing with his paws on Miles’ chest. He relentlessly licked the underside of Miles’ chin, close to his neck, where he was ticklish.

“Pessimum genus inimicorum laudantes,” Miles quoted as he squirmed, fighting the urge to giggle. “This behavior isn’t going to work on me!”

He scooped the puppy from his lap. Miles looked him straight in the eye; the puppy panted, the corners of his mouth upturned in the semblance of a grin.

“Pessimus. That’s what you are.”

The puppy barked and wriggled in Miles’ hands, trying his hardest to lick Miles’ face again.

“Since I have no choice but to keep you,” Miles murmured, “I’ll name you Pess.”

He placed the puppy—Pess—back in his lap. Pess never stopped wagging his tail, it seemed. Miles pet him, ruffling his dark fur. Pess was freshly groomed, no doubt. He smelled of flea powder, semi-long coat smooth and free of tangles.

Miles leaned forward and hugged the puppy close, closing his eyes.

German Shepherds would forever remind him of his father.

Pess licked Miles’ cheeks clean as he began to cry.

--

“I’m home,” Miles announced, placing car his keys in a small silver tray set atop a table next to the door. As he set his rich leather briefcase at his feet, the familiar sound of bounding steps and claws skittering on the hardwood floor echoed from down the hallway.

Miles had just enough time to right himself before Pess came dashing in to greet him, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail wagging, threatening to knock over anything in its path. With a chuckle Miles kneeled and allowed the dog to lavish his face with slobbery kisses.

“Were you a good boy today?” he asked, petting Pess as he stood. “No messes, I hope.” He was answered with a deep bark. “Very well then. Let’s go for a walk as your reward.”

The excited ruckus Pess made as Miles reached into the closet for his leash was well worth it. At the end of the day, Miles was more than happy to come home to a companion that loved him more than life itself.

He was sure that Pess felt the same.

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“Pessimum genus inimicorum laudantes”: “Flatterers are the worst type of enemies”
“Pessimus”: “the worst”