Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story; they are the intellectual property of Capcom. I make no profit from making this story available online. This story was written for the Phoenix Wright kink meme.
The studio was in an uproar. Harry Wood, famous voice actor, had collapsed two days ago in the recording booth. His was the third death in as many months, and the studio was quickly earning a reputation as cursed.
Robert Pound was the chief suspect. The young voice actor had been present during all three deaths, in the middle of scenes with the victims, and claimed that all of them had simply dropped dead in front of him. There were no signs of violence or foul play, and the post-mortem report indicated the victims had asphyxiated. This made no sense, as Robert had been in the booth with them at the times of death and showed no signs of asphyxiation himself. Nothing directly implicated Robert, and yet he had been apprehended as the only reasonable suspect.
The studio was anxious, the police were frustrated, Robert was terrified, and thousands of fans were furious.
Phoenix Wright, meanwhile, was exhausted. As Robert's defense attorney, he was trying desperately to find some key piece of evidence to exonerate his client before the trial in the morning.
He was fortunate that the prosecutor for the case was his friend and rival, Miles Edgeworth. Recently returned from Europe, the prosecutor's office had assigned its most prestigious litigator to the case to appease the public. The two lawyers shared unique friendship between them, often leading them to work together even from opposite sides of the courtroom.
Phoenix was grateful for that friendship at the moment. He hated to admit it, but he was at a complete loss as to the cause of death and the identity of the possible murderer. Trying to figure out this case on his own would have been a nightmare.
The two of them had returned to the studio to inspect the scene of the crime again. The recording booth itself was small and cramped, barely large enough to hold two people. The room was thickly padded with red foam material, blocking any sound from outside and completely capturing every noise within. The only objects in the room were the microphone, a stand to hold the scripts, and a flat television screen mounted onto the wall.
"I'm not seeing anything," Phoenix sighed, crouched low to the ground as he examined the floor beneath the microphone.
"Why am I not surprised?" Edgeworth retorted from outside the room, sarcasm firmly in place. Phoenix couldn't tell if his investigation skills were being mocked, or if the man was simply as frustrated at the lack of evidence as he was. He suspected a mix of both.
He stifled a yawn as he rose and exited the tiny booth. The hands on the clock outside shifted closer to midnight, reminding Phoenix of all the sleep he was missing. Even Edgeworth seemed tired; his normally impeccable cravat and maroon suit were more rumpled than usual. The subtle difference somehow made the prosecutor seem more approachable, though his glare remained at full wattage.
Said glare was currently aimed at the studio director, who eyed Edgeworth wearily and said, "Look, I can't afford to be here all night supervising you. I have to testify in the morning, right? I'm going home, so you two get outta here."
"Please, let us stay a little longer!" Phoenix put on his most honest face, trying to convince the director to give them more time. "If you need to go, fine, but let us keep looking. We won't disturb anything, but you've gotta let us find the reason why your voice actors keep dying!"
The director flinched. "I don't know what more you're gonna find."
"As the prosecutor for this case," Edgeworth said, "I must insist you allow our investigation to continue. I will vouch for the defense's presence."
The director wavered, looking between the recording booth and the exit.
A thought suddenly occurred to Phoenix. "I've got one more idea. Just set everything up the way it was when Harry Wood collapsed," he said. "We'll take it from there."
A moment passed as the director considered, and Phoenix held his breath. He even thought about crossing his fingers.
The director slumped. "Fine. Harry and Robert were recording together in the booth. I'll turn on the video they were syncing their lines with." She pushed a few buttons on a control panel. "Video's up and looping. Don't break anything. I'm leaving now, so don't come bother me." Without a backward glance she left the studio.
The prosecutor turned to Phoenix, grey eyes glinting. "And what is the purpose of this, Wright?"
"If we can't find anything at the end, maybe we should rewind and start from the beginning. Re-enact the circumstances of the crime and see if anything stands out."
Edgeworth smirked. "That is either the most ridiculous thing you've said, or the most brilliant."
Phoenix grinned. "I'll opt for the latter." He opened his battered briefcase and started shuffling papers around. "Right, so let's go be voice actors."
"I beg your pardon?" Edgeworth blinked, face suddenly blank.
"Well, if we're gonna re-enact this thing, then you and I gotta be Harry and Robert, right?" He finally pulled a thick ream of paper from the mess in the case and held it up triumphantly. "This is the script. They were working on scene 34, I think…" He flipped through the pages until he found the correct spot.
"I don't see the need to go into quite so much detail with a re-enactment, Wright."
"Do you have any better ideas? Maybe there's something in the script that triggers a reaction; a word or phrase that makes people drop dead."
"I'm not sure which is worse: that you might actually believe in such nonsense, or that you would risk one of us 'dropping dead' by saying it out loud."
"I've seen a lot of crazy stuff. Besides, maybe it's something psychological? Hypnosis or something? You hear a weird phrase like 'The cat has turned into a bus' and suddenly you think you're a chicken, or something like that."
Edgeworth raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe hypnotism works quite like that."
"Maybe there's a signal in the video then, or a combination of script and video. Or maybe it's something else completely and I can't figure it out because it's too late and I'm tired and nothing about this case makes any sense," snapped Phoenix. "Could you just humor me? I'm running on empty and out of ideas."
"Very well," Edgeworth sighed. He gave Phoenix a rare, tired almost-smile; despite his irritation, Phoenix found himself grinning in return. Even almost-smiles were something to treasure from his friend.
"I suppose you'll be playing your client in this little charade?"
"I guess so. Let's see… I'm 'Mamoru,' and you're 'Norio.' Huh. Guess it's a Japanese show."
Edgworth rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Wright, didn't you learn anything about the studio before… we… uh…"
Phoenix looked up from the script to see Edgeworth stagger back from the door of the recording booth, face twisted in an odd grimace.
"WRIGHT! What the hell is this?"
Phoenix moved behind the prosecutor and looked over his shoulder at the scene playing on the television screen in the tiny booth. Two very naked cartoon men were tangled together in an intimate embrace. The one with fiercely blue hair was on top of the one with the longer red hair, moving rhythmically against him in the unmistakable motions of sex.
All the color drained from the prosecutor's face. His eyes were wide as he snapped his arm out, pointing accusingly at the screen as he fixed Phoenix with a furious glare.
As he slowly closed his gaping mouth, Phoenix's lips quirked. "Well, Edgey, seems like they were doing voice-over work for an adult show." He grinned wolfishly. "That's not gonna be a problem, is it?"
Edgeworth brought his arm down to clutch at his elbow, head turned aside. "I- That is-" He frowned, gulped, and tried again. "I'm not comfortable with this, Wright," he bit out through clenched teeth. A quick peek back at the screen proved too much, and he headed for the door.
"Wait! Edgeworth!" Phoenix quickly grabbed at his sleeve and turned him back around. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was like this. But it doesn't matter, right?"
"We can do this. Please? Help me out here."
"No." Edgeworth refused to meet his eyes, staring resolutely at the floor.
"Why do you insist we humiliate and debase ourselves with this, Wright?"
"What? I don't…" Phoenix noticed the prosecutor was shaking slightly. Was he trembling with rage? Or maybe he was afraid?
Are you here to laugh at me? The echo tumbled around in his head.
"Edgewo… Miles. I won't laugh at you. There's no one here. Just you and me, trying to figure out the truth. Even if it takes something stupid like this to do it."
Edgeworth raised his eyes, locked his gaze with Phoenix's, but stayed silent. There was something in his look, something unusually raw that made Phoenix's chest lurch and face heat up.
He pressed on. "It's just a stupid show. I won't tell a soul about this. I promise. Scout's honor." He held his hand up as if taking an oath.
Edgeworth searched his eyes for a long moment before he let out a shaky breath. "This is a mistake," Phoenix heard him say quietly, as if to himself. But then he tore the script out of Phoenix's hands and marched into the booth, muttering "You were never a Scout, Wright."
Before he could puzzle out just what Edgeworth meant, Phoenix suddenly realized his friend had finally agreed. Part of him – the non-professional part that wasn't occupied with trying to free his client – was thrilled to use a script again. He hadn't touched one since college; it would be fun, almost nostalgic to act again. Thoughts of sleep and tiredness melted away at the prospect of acting with Edgeworth.
He followed and closed the door behind him. Edgeworth looked uneasy as Phoenix stood next to him in front of the script stand.
"What is it this time?"
"It's… rather cramped in here, don't you think?" Edgeworth said in a low voice.
Phoenix resisted the urge to smack himself on the forehead. Cramped little spaces… like an elevator.
"Sorry. Want me to keep the door open?" He pushed the padded door outward, swinging it back and forth.
Edgeworth looked noticeably relieved at seeing the door open so freely. "No, it's… it's fine. Leave it closed. We should keep this re-enactment as accurate as possible."
Phoenix thumbed to the right part of the script. "So you're the red-head, and I'm the blue one. We should probably get some idea of what the scene's like before we start." He watched the screen, trying to understand what was going on. Apparently the video had started over again.
The men were young; Phoenix had only a moment to realize they were wearing high school uniforms until the clothes started being stripped off. As far as he could tell, Blue was successfully seducing the reluctant Red. Simple enough.
As he watched, he noticed Edgeworth perusing the script, brows creased, steadfastly keeping his eyes away from the screen.
"Edgeworth, while it's good that you're trying to memorize the script, how will you know when to say your bits if you don't watch the video?"
Edgeworth glared at Phoenix, who raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at the screen. Slowly the prosecutor turned his gaze to the television. If his glare could set fires, Phoenix thought, the whole recording booth would be an inferno.
Together they watched in silence as Blue pinned Red to the wall. In the quiet of the booth, Phoenix could almost hear the muffled noises as Blue covered Red in more and more intimate kisses, could imagine the moans and groans as wide-eyed Red arched his back when Blue pushed in.
Phoenix peered sidelong at Edgeworth. This, he realized with chagrin, is pretty damn embarrassing. The damned cartoon was just as bad as any X-rated movie, and here he was watching it openly with his friend. His uncomfortable, repressed, probably-needed-to-get-laid-even-more-than-himself friend. As the thrusting on the screen became more passionate, Phoenix idly wondered if the stick up Edgeworth's ass was replaced with something else if he'd finally loosen up – and to his horror he blushed at the thought.
Though they were only cartoon characters, the scene was undoubtedly… effective. His work left Phoenix little time for pornography, which made exposure to anything explicit all the more likely to leave him flushed and short of breath. Even if it were two male characters, the scene prompted thoughts of warm bodies and slick mouths and kiss and touch and sex and…
Mercifully, the lewd scene reached the end, looped to the beginning, and came back to the point where they had started watching.
Phoenix drew in a breath and turned to his friend, fixing him with an overly large smile in an effort to hide his own reaction to the video. "So. What do you think?"
Edgeworth coughed before answering, conspicuously shifting his weight. "Well, the animation is surprisingly good for this genre. Character design was obviously influenced by older shonen works, which is unusual for this show's intended audience. The script, while not outstanding, is serviceable enough to-"
"That's not what I meant," Phoenix interrupted. "Although it seems your knowledge of a certain children's show has made you quite an expert on Japanese cartoons."
"Wright, I do not watch children's shows."
"You're right," Phoenix said, smile turning sly. "From that critique, it sounds like you're used to watching shows like this."
Edgeworth sputtered, face turning red, and Phoenix vowed to interrogate him about his viewing habits with the Magatama later. Sparing his friends' feelings for the moment, he moved on. "All right, let's practice the lines with each other first, then we'll worry about syncing up with the video."
The tiny booth magnified how close they stood next to each other. Phoenix's hand brushed against Edgeworth's as he skimmed over the page to find his place; it was warm. He could smell the man's cologne, mixed with a darker, more musky scent. It was oddly enticing.
Trying to stifle his heightened senses and ignoring what was playing on the screen, he cleared his throat and started speaking.
'Thanks for coming, Norio. I wanted to talk to you.'
Edgeworth swallowed before he answered, voice low and quiet.
'What is it, Mamoru?'
'I just wanted to say thank you for all the help you've given me lately. I got an A on the last exam because of you.'
'It's no problem. I'm glad to help you, really.'
'But you didn't have to. You have your own grades to think about.'
'It's not a big deal.'
"No, you're supposed to stutter there," Phoenix said, pointing to the directions in the script. "See? 'Norio looks away shyly, his words hesitant and stammering.'"
Edgeworth shot him a look which clearly said his comments weren't welcome. "I do not stutter, Wright. Nor do I see any point in doing so now."
"But it's for the character! You're supposed to act all meek and mild."
After one more warning look, Edgeworth sighed in defeat.
'I-It's not a bi-big deal.'
Phoenix laughed and patted his shoulder. "That wasn't too hard, right?" Edgeworth stiffened under his fingertips. "Hey, it's fine. You're actually pretty good at this." He pressed into the tight muscle, squeezed encouragingly, and tried to ignore the small voice in his head that said he was just looking for an excuse to touch.
He pulled his hand back. "Alright, alright. Um…"
'You know that's not true. You're at the top of the class. You need every advantage to be number one, and you shouldn't be wasting time with me.'
'It's not a waste! I-I wanted to help you.'
'You wanted to?'
'Yes. Is that so hard to believe?'
'You wanted to help a poor student like me, one who can't afford a tutor or go to private cram sessions? Who can't even afford the field trips?'
'You're n-not that poor.'
'But you still keep going out of your way to help me. It must be hurting your own grades and rank.'
'My grades are f-fine. Don't worry about me. If-If you're finished, I should go.'
'Why? Why are you doing all this for me?'
"Wright, you are entirely too close."
Phoenix frowned. "But it says, 'Mamoru moves closer to Norio as the conversation gets more intense.'"
"That's for the character, Wright, not for you."
"Method acting, Edgeworth. It's more believable and a lot more fun if you actually do it yourself."
Edgeworth opened his mouth, but quickly closed it before any words came out. His glare softened, and that same raw look from before flitted over his features. He looked almost… needy.
"'Do it yourself?' Just what are you planning to 'do,' Wright?" It was almost a whisper, and Edgeworth kept staring at him with that strange mixture of emotions. The prosecutor's defenses were slipping, and Phoenix's pulse sped up in response to the look.
What is he hiding?
"I plan to do… whatever the script says to do."
Phoenix was keenly aware of how close he was to Edgeworth, of how the air had become hot and thick with tension.
Edgeworth turned and Phoenix followed; they faced each other in the tiny booth, so close they almost touched.
"Method acting." The prosecutor said it slowly, rolling the words around like wine before nodding once. "As you wish, Wright." He glanced back at the script.
'I'm not just doing it for y-you. I have my own reasons.'
'Oh? And what reasons are those?' Phoenix ducked his head closer.
'I-I can't tell you.'
'What? Is the world gonna end if you open up to someone for once? Are you too proud to admit you want a friend?' His voice took on a harsher edge.
I could have any friends I wanted, M-M-Mamoru. N-Not that it's your business.'
'Then are you ashamed to be seen with me? The rich, smart Norio, associating with poor, dumb me?'
'That's not it at all!' To his surprise, Edgeworth put some bite into the line as grey eyes sharply met his own.
'Then what's the big deal? What are you not telling me?'
'I'm not keeping anything from you. There's noth-nothing to tell you.'
Phoenix advanced, holding the script in one hand for them to read while placing the other on the booth wall by Edgeworth's shoulder. 'You don't have to. I think I already know your secret.'
Edgeworth leaned away, though there was little room in the booth to go. He was pressed against the red padding, and Phoenix moved closer.
'I have no secrets, Wri- M-Mamoru.'
"Don't break," Phoenix whispered, sliding his hand onto Edgeworth's shoulder. He moved his head near Edgeworth's ear for the next lines.
'Don't lie to me. Yes, you do.'
Edgeworth stood motionless, eyes flitting rapidly from the pages to Phoenix's face.
'You have a very big secret.'
Without any prompting from the script, Edgeworth grabbed his arm and looked away – his usual sign of unease.
Phoenix watched him carefully.
'You signed up for electives I'm in. You spend time tutoring me every night. And you watch me when you think I'm not looking.'
He could blame it on the late hour, on frustration, the video, this absurd situation – whatever the reason, Phoenix followed the next line directions to the letter.
'Look at me, Norio.' He turned Edgeworth's face toward him, looked closely into darkened grey eyes. 'What all that means is… I don't think you'll mind if I do this.'
And he closed his eyes, dipped his head, and brought his lips to Edgeworth's.
Who sharply breathed in, but otherwise remained still and unmoving. He lingered a moment before he pulled away to find Edgeworth staring at him, an unfathomable look on his face.
"What is this, Wright?"
He could say it was the script, it was just acting, he was just following the directions, that it was nothing. But his lips tingled where they'd left his friend, and through his haze of excuses one fact stood out in sharp relief: he had not been pushed away.
So instead he asked, "What do you want it to be?"
"I…" He could almost see the wheels turning in Edgeworth's mind, but when no further answer came out, Phoenix reverted back to the script.
'Say something, Norio.'
Edgeworth's mouth parted, about to give some reply, but Phoenix pushed a finger against his lips and shook his head. "Not yet," he said, nodding toward the script.
'Tell me it isn't true. Say I'm wrong. That the reason you've been doing all this isn't because you like me.'
He traced his finger around the still open mouth, felt hot breath ghost across it in rapid pants, and replaced it with his lips once more. He heard a short noise of surprise, and before the prosecutor could close his mouth Phoenix quickly slipped his tongue inside to swirl once against Edgeworth's before pulling away. The brief taste was… intoxicating.
He stared at Edgeworth, whose face was flushed, his lips slightly damp, his grey hair falling into his eyes. Phoenix finally understood what that raw look, the one he still wore, really meant: Miles wanted this.
And it was the most natural thing in the world to want him back.
Phoenix smirked wickedly and breathed into Edgeworth's ear, "Your line."
He was so focused on the prosecutor's small shudder he almost missed hearing him speak.
'I… I can't.'
"What? You mean you- oh." He realized with a flash of embarrassment that that was the line. "Hold on a sec." He skimmed over what little dialogue was left and quickly committed it to memory before throwing the script over his shoulder and letting it crash onto the floor.
"What are you doing, Wright?"
"Don't need it anymore. I know my lines." He grinned broadly. "And besides, we'll need our hands free."
Edgeworth's eyes widened and roamed frantically around the booth. Too many thoughts flickered across the prosecutor's face, and he seemed surprised when the simplest one came out: "What about my lines?"
Phoenix chuckled lightly. "I looked over them. It's moans and gasps from here on out; you shouldn't have too much trouble." He savored the bright red look on Edgeworth's face.
"But- If I get it… wrong-"
"We'll improvise. That was my specialty, you know. Improv."
He cut him off by pushing his knee between Edgeworth's legs and resumed his post at his ear.
'Then I'll tell you my secret, Norio. I think…' He paused dramatically, let the tension build, and dropped his voice. 'I think… I like you, too.'
Edgeworth snapped his head to the side to look at Phoenix, nose brushing across his cheek, and Phoenix caught his lips again. He made gentle movements against Edgeworth's mouth, and slowly, tentatively, he felt the kiss being returned.
He groaned and pressed one hand against the prosecutor's cheek, rough with stubble, and tangled the other in his hair, desire overriding all other concerns. He swiped his tongue over Edgeworth's mouth, licking at his lips, and deepened the kiss when they finally parted. As their tongues brushed against each other, Edgeworth wrapped his arms around Phoenix's back and gripped him tightly. Phoenix chased after that intoxicating taste and finally realized it was simply the taste of Edgeworth himself – rich, dark, and masculine, so unlike other kisses he'd shared.
Edgeworth made a low noise in his throat, and Phoenix remembered the script. With a wet sound, he pulled away from that wonderful mouth and kissed along the rough jawline. He tugged at Edgeworth's earlobe with his teeth, gently nibbling, and whispered his line.
'So let me give you a proper thank-you.'
The booth had become unbearably hot. Phoenix slid his hands to Edgeworth's shoulders and pushed his jacket down; Edgeworth began to protest, and Phoenix distracted him by licking along the shell of his ear as he pulled the jacket off and let it drop unceremoniously to the floor.
He immediately started undoing the buttons on the black vest, silently cursing the many layers the prosecutor wore. Edgeworth panted beneath him, his fingers still pressed tightly against his back. He'd given up trying to stop Phoenix or of making any other movement, whether because he was too stunned or overwhelmed or just trying to figure out what the hell was happening, Phoenix wasn't sure.
When the vest hung open, Phoenix moved on to the dress shirt underneath. "Make some more noise, Edgeworth," he murmured as he struggled with the smaller buttons.
"Your lines. Moan, groan, anything. That's all that's left in the script – just the noises they make."
"I'm not… ah…" He jumped as Phoenix's hands grazed the bare skin of his torso, protest quickly turning into a hum of approval as Phoenix caressed his sides.
"Yeah, like that." He ran his hands over the smooth planes of Edgeworth's chest, pushed the shirt and vest aside and let the fabric hang off his elbows. After a few tugs at the stubborn cravat, he gave up on it and instead kissed a trail across his shoulders.
One of Edgeworth's hands crept into Phoenix's hair, stretching his open clothes awkwardly, and he pulled down on the spikes to tilt the attorney's head up and claim another kiss. Phoenix gladly obliged and lost track of time as the kiss grew more intense.
When they parted, he pushed himself fully against Edgeworth and he could feel his friend's hardness pressing into him; he was certain the prosecutor could feel his own straining erection as well.
"What does this mean, Phoenix?" Edgeworth searched his eyes, and Phoenix felt naked under his gaze. "Is this just the re-enactment? Is it part of the script? Method acting?"
Phoenix slowly licked his lips before answering. "The best part about acting is that sometimes you take a role and it becomes a part of you."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means that script is trash." He leaned in for a quick kiss. "So let's not use it anymore." Another fast press of lips. He locked his eyes with Edgeworth's and tried to convey everything he felt.
"Moan for me now, Miles."
Edgeworth's eyes flashed, and something in him seemed to tense and release. With unexpected speed he grabbed Phoenix's waist and spun him around, reversing their positions. He shrugged off his shirt and grabbed Phoenix's tie, dragging him in for a passionate, almost violent kiss, teeth clashing and lips bruising.
Phoenix felt dizzy; the kiss and being pinned and Edgeworth's sudden dominance all made his head spin. His jacket had disappeared and so had the cravat, both in a heap on the floor. When he felt Edgeworth deftly undoing his buttons, he reached up and pulled off his tie to join the pile.
Both finally bared to the waist, their fingers explored new territory. Edgeworth was more muscular than he expected – not brawny by any means, but lean and well-toned. His skin was smooth and he felt strong, and Phoenix marveled at what it felt like to really touch a man.
Edgeworth's hands crept around Phoenix's sides, pressing upward in slow sweeps, and he twitched a thumb over the attorney's nipple. Phoenix gasped, and the noise was swallowed by Edgeworth's mouth. His moans were muffled as Edgeworth teased, circling the now-pert nub but refusing to touch it again. Phoenix tore his mouth away to glare daggers at him, and the prosecutor smirked and ducked his head and licked the sensitive nub. He arched his back and groaned as Edgeworth switched his attention to the other nipple, repeating the same tormenting pattern with his tongue.
As his mouth was occupied, Phoenix snatched one of the prosecutor's hands in both of his own. Edgeworth's hand was bigger than he was used to holding, felt a little more rough. He kissed the palm and dragged his lips around the tip of the index finger, gently held it in place with his teeth as he tongued the soft padding under the fingertip.
On impulse, Phoenix widened his mouth and pulled the whole finger in. He closed his eyes as he swirled his tongue around, intent on memorizing the taste and texture of Edgeworth's skin, and he slowly sucked.
He cracked his lids open as Edgeworth gave a heady groan and pulled back, tracing the wet digit past Phoenix's jaw and down his chest, stopping at the light hairs that led a trail past his belt.
Phoenix bucked his hips and felt a glorious friction as he was met with an equal thrust. He reached between them and cupped Edgeworth's hardness. He traced his fingers around the taught outline – Would it be the same? – and tugged at the pants just enough to tease in return. "Is this okay?" he asked, licking a line up the neck he never got to see. "Do you want this?"
"Yes," Edgeworth growled, throat reverberating against Phoenix's questing lips.
"Good." He opened Edgeworth's belt and added, "I want it too."
Edgeworth uttered something in German, probably a swear if Phoenix guessed by the tone. The pants clanged to the floor; Phoenix quirked an eyebrow at Edgeworth's red boxer-briefs. Face darkly flushed, Edgeworth started undoing Phoenix's own belt in an effort to distract him.
Phoenix pushed his hands away and stroked him through the cloth. When Edgeworth's head tipped back in pleasure, he rolled the boxer-briefs down and got a good look at the prosecutor – all of him.
With his newly freed cock jutting out fully hard, Edgeworth glared impatiently, though the force of his usual Kubrick stare was lessened by his obvious need. Phoenix only had experience with his own member, but after a few moments of uncertainty he wrapped his fingers around the base of Edgeworth.
It should be similar, right? Edgeworth's drawn-out groan was encouraging.
He pulled his hand forward, stroking slowly, and brought his fingers to the blunt tip. He circled the head with his thumb, coated his fingers with the liquid he found pooling there, and closed his hand around the length again. In a slow, steady motion he moved his hand back and forth, watching Edgeworth's face as the prosecutor's eyes fluttered shut. He moved his free arm around the man's waist, slinging it low, and snaked his hand down to grab at his ass. Edgeworth arched and thrust into Phoenix's hand, and Phoenix stroked rhythmically, faster and faster, until he heard Edgeworth's voice crack.
"Stop… Wright, stop…" Phoenix stilled his hand, confused, as Edgeworth slowed to a stop. He heard the edge in the prosecutor's voice – he had to have been close.
Did I do something wrong?
Edgeworth stared at him, eyes darkened with lust, and fumbled with Phoenix's belt again. His knuckles brushed against Phoenix's own hardened cock, and Phoenix groaned loudly. All too quickly his pants and boxers were shoved down and he was left exposed in the stifling heat. Edgeworth took one lingering look before he tunneled his fist around Phoenix and moved. He kept switching his technique – long slow pulls, quick hard jerks, lazy caresses followed by firm strokes. He sucked at the junction of Phoenix's shoulder and neck as he worked, and Phoenix was nearly driven mad.
Too soon Edgeworth released his neck and slowed his hand, moving so lightly the attorney almost whimpered. "Phoenix," Edgeworth breathed into his ear, voice low and thick, and damn if his own name didn't sound like the most erotic thing in the world right now.
"I want to taste you."
Phoenix shivered at the implication in those words.
"You're… safe, right?"
"It's okay, I'm okay, I don't have anything, I promise," Phoenix panted rapidly, tongue tripping in his effort to convince Edgeworth to keep going.
He could almost hear the smirk, but he didn't care as Edgeworth knelt in front of him. It seemed surreal as he watched Edgeworth close his eyes and slowly lick from base to tip, and Phoenix almost didn't recognize his own voice as he moaned.
He felt a hand on his hip. Edgeworth opened his eyes and looked up at Phoenix, gaze piercing, and he kept looking as he wrapped his lips around the head of Phoenix's cock.
His throat hitched, his thighs tensed, and Oh god he felt Edgeworth start to move. He slid his lips down the shaft, brushed his tongue around the underside in broad strokes. Phoenix thumped his head back against the red padding and ran his fingers through Edgeworth's hair as he rocked his hips and his entire world collapsed into wet, swirling, sucking heat.
His knees trembled, and Phoenix knew that he wouldn't last much longer. Through sheer force of will, he leaned down and pushed gently at Edgeworth's shoulders. "Miles," he groaned as he tugged the prosecutor to his feet. Edgeworth's lips were red and swollen, his hair a wonderful, ragged mess; that raw, needy look from earlier had grown into a look of pure sex.
Phoenix pulled him in for a passionate kiss – and that was a new sensation as he caught the flavor of himself inside the prosecutor's mouth. "Want to see you," he growled as he reached out and found Edgeworth's cock again and started stroking it anew. Edgeworth understood his intention and took Phoenix in hand again, matching the rhythm.
Hot, sticky, covered in a sheen of sweat, the noises of their pleasure echoed in the tiny booth.
Kissing, touching, licking, more, faster, teasing, stroking, growling, harder, more, tasting, moaning, rubbing, more, more…
Hips bucking wildly, their movements became too frantic and they clutched at each other's shoulders, grinding their erections together. The smell of sex filled the air, musky and arousing, magnifying the taste of Edgeworth on Phoenix's tongue. He closed his eyes and thrust hard, and groaned loud and long and low as he finally reached his peak and found his release in an explosion of pleasure.
"Miles," he breathed as he felt his cock give its final twitch, coating their stomachs. Edgeworth growled and moved even faster and pushed harder; Phoenix thought the phrase fuck me into the wall would be appropriate. He maneuvered a hand between their bodies and found Edgeworth's nipple, and he teased and pinched at it as he pulled the prosecutor down for a soul-searing kiss.
With a cry Edgeworth wrenched his head back, shouting incoherently as he too finally climaxed. He dropped his head to Phoenix's shoulder when the last tremors passed, and they slid to the floor in a messy tangle. "Phoe… Phoenix…" he gasped.
"Yeah. Still here."
They lapsed into silence as they struggled to regain their breath. A slow, stupid grin worked its way across Phoenix's face. "That was…" He couldn't find the words to describe what just happened.
"Yes," agreed Edgeworth. He quirked his brow and smirked.
Phoenix felt something warm and bright flow through him, and he pulled Edgeworth close. He didn't care how awkward it was – pants around their ankles, clothes strewn everywhere, releases still sticky between them. Edgeworth, however, made a face and rummaged in his pocket. He pulled out a white cloth and began cleaning them up. Phoenix watched him work. Of course Edgeworth would have a handkerchief.
He leaned back against the padded wall, content to bask in the afterglow. "You know, you're pretty good at the whole 'acting' thing, Edgey. I should give you flowers for that performance."
Edgeworth abruptly stopped and fixed Phoenix with a cold glare. "Is that all this was, Wright? Acting?"
His heart lurched. "No! Of course not! This means something, right?" He looked at Edgeworth, willing him to believe that he had his heart in the right place.
Edgeworth sighed, and gave Phoenix that same almost-smile from earlier in the night. "I don't know about your acting, Wright, but you're a terrible liar. So I know… this means something."
And Phoenix smiled in return and pressed his lips against Edgeworth's, trying his damnedest to kiss away any remaining doubt or fear.
They stayed close for some time after that, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed and just breathing in the others' scent. "I could fall asleep like this," Phoenix murmured.
"I prefer a warm, soft bed."
"I guess we should wrap this up and leave, huh?"
"What about your client? Robert?"
"There's nothing here. The re-enactment thing was a lark – not that I regret it." He squeezed Edgeworth's shoulders. "You don't have enough to get a conviction, and I don't have enough to get an acquittal. It'll be a mistrial, and Robert will be released."
"But still under suspicion. That will no doubt hurt his career."
Phoenix got the distinct impression Edgeworth regretted bringing up the trial. With reluctance, they gathered their clothes and re-dressed. Edgeworth's suit looked more crumpled than Phoenix had ever seen it, though his own suit fared even worse.
"Robert said he always hoped to get flowers from a fan someday," he said as he slung his tie around his neck. "He said a lot of the other voice actors got bouquets sent to the studio for them."
Edgeworth stopped doing up his buttons. "What kinds of flowers?"
"Did Harry receive any flowers the day he collapsed?"
"I think… Robert mentioned something about that, yeah."
"Wright. First thing in the morning check the flowers. See if the other actors who died had received flowers, too."
"It's already morning, Edgeworth," Phoenix yawned. He opened the recording booth door and gestured to the clock outside.
"Public transportation must be closed at this hour. Do you have any way of getting home?"
"Were you planning on walking home?"
"I didn't really think about how to get home."
"Of course you didn't. Come on," Edgeworth jerked his head toward the exit. "I'll give you a ride."
Phoenix wrapped his hand around Edgeworth's and tugged him back. "You want to go to dinner? After this trial is done?"
Like magic, the almost-smile became a real-smile. "I suppose dinner would only be proper after our behavior tonight." And he leaned over and gave Phoenix a lingering kiss.
As it turned out, all three of the deceased voice actors had been given flowers shortly before their deaths. They each had received a bouquet and accompanying fruit-basket, and all the fruit had been poisoned with belladonna. Oddly, the plant left no indications of poisoning and only left post-mortem signs of asphyxiation, which explained how all the victims "choked" to death. The deliveries were tracked back to a fan who was obsessed with Robert; out of jealousy she had sent the deadly gifts to his co-stars in an effort to prevent anyone else from wooing Robert, even if it was only acting.
Robert was elated to be cleared. As attorney, client, and prosecutor left the courtroom for the final time, he gave Phoenix a small disk.
"I dunno. The director told me to give this to you. Something about a recording you'd be interested in."
Edgeworth's face turned white as a sheet, and Phoenix accepted the disk with a sheepish grin.
Robert shrugged as he handed it over. "She also said to tell you 'Congratulations, hope you're happy, and don't quit your day jobs.'"