Archive of Our Own

Phoenix slammed into the dirty wood floor. Even as he tried to blink away the disorientation and ignore the pain blossoming along his back, the only thought in his mind was not again.

He could hear the dealer-a brown haired wisp of a woman with a voice that could project across a stadium-yelling down the customer still looming over him. She pushed him back with sheer presence, the man stumbling back and sputtering in Phoenix’s direction as she did. Something something cheater, bastard, yada yada yada. He’d heard it too many times before to pay much attention.

Phoenix hoisted himself up on his elbows, biting back a groan as the movement sent a wave of dull pain across his back. His face stung like hell where he’d been hit. He gently touched his jaw. Besides involuntarily sucking in a sharp breath at the pain, everything seemed fine. Nothing broken, no teeth coming out, no blood swirling in his mouth.

The dealer was holding her own just fine, apparently having little trouble getting the customer to back down. His rage had subsided surprisingly fast; he seemed almost abashed now. Not a habitually violent guy, then. That was good. Phoenix wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t fancy a hospital visit if he had to try and protect the dealer.

He’d finally pulled himself up to his feet by the time the dealer had gotten the customer to the door. She pointed violently up the stairs as she demanded he leave. He sent one last glance in Phoenix’s direction, evidently considering his options. Phoenix held two fingers up to his forehead, smiled, and gave a little salute.

“Have a good night, sir.”

That did it. The guy practically fled up the stairs, chased away by a woman who was probably a hundred and fifteen pounds sopping wet and a washed up professional whose main source of exercise was the short walk to and from the borsht bowl. The guy was probably more embarrassed than anything.

Whatever worked. It was late and Phoenix was too tired for anything like pride.

“Seems like a good place to stop for the night,” Phoenix said, making sure no hint of bitter sarcasm bled into his words the way he wanted to let them.

The dealer eyed him cautiously.

“You, uh…?”

“Just a bruise. Don’t worry about it.”

She nodded. Clearly not convinced, but smart enough not to bother him over it.

He pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. Nearly two in the morning.

“Is everyone else gone?” He asked.

“They should be.”

His next words were interrupted by the sound of quiet footsteps from above, slowly making their way down the old, creaky stairs. They both froze in place.

Fuck.

He’d really thought that was it. That customer had seemed all bark and no bite. If he was coming back…

“Stand away from the door,” He muttered to the dealer, ushering her behind him. As if that would matter. He was as far back as he could be in the small space without crowding the dealer. He had nothing besides a couple of fragile old chairs to put between himself and an attacker. He opened his phone, fingers hovering. Should he start dialing now?

The footsteps reached the door. Phoenix was a digit away from an emergency call when the last person in the world he would ever expect stepped through.

“Jesus fucking christ, Edgeworth.”

Something about the man looked off, more than the simple dissonance between someone like Edgeworth standing in the middle of a run down bar basement, but Phoenix didn’t care. His shoulders sagged in relief, adrenaline he hadn’t noticed draining from his system.

Edgeworth looked around the room, clearly surprised at Phoenix’s reaction. Phoenix had seen this expression many times before, the way his eyes darted from detail to detail, constructing a series of events in his head.

“Did something happen, Wright?” He asked quietly.

“You know him?” The dealer’s strained voice cut through. Phoenix barely kept himself from starting with how loud she was in the small space. He turned to face her, plastering on what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, yeah he’s an old friend of mine.”

She eyed Edgeworth skeptically.

“Really, it’s fine! I’ve known him for years.”

She frowned. Was it that hard to believe? Just because Edgeworth looked like someone who just walked out of a twelfth story office where he pulled in a three figure salary while holding a high enough position to decide the fates of strangers on a daily basis, and Phoenix played poker in a basement-

Alright, fine. Maybe it was a little hard to believe.

“Sorry I forgot he was coming down to visit. Completely slipped my mind.” He jerked his head towards the stairs before she could voice any concerns. “I was gonna say earlier-if you want to head out, go for it. I can clean up here and lock up, no problem.”

Edgeworth chose that moment to cautiously step forward. Though he made sure to stop at a respectful distance from the dealer.

“Apologies if I startled you. My name is Miles Edgeworth. Wright and I have worked together for several years now.”

“Worked together?” She asked. Her disbelief was more than blatant now.

“Used to,” Phoenix clarified, “now we mostly get drinks.”

She studied Edgeworth for a few more moments. Even if she didn’t believe a word of what either of them were saying, whatever she saw in the man seemed to do the trick. Phoenix could see most of the tension drop away.

“You sure you’re ok if I go now…?”

“Go for it.”

And with that, she was gone, pausing only for a curt nod towards them both before disappearing up the steps and out of the Hydeout. A few seconds later and Phoenix could hear the front door closing above them. An unusually quick exit, but not one he could blame her for.

Edgeworth stood awkwardly in the middle of the tiny space. He didn’t look bad-far from it-but he was clearly exhausted, hair unusually mussed, clothes ever so slightly out of order. The way he always looked when he got off long flights, really. Familiar and domestic in a way that usually left Phoenix choking back his first reaction for something more normal, more calm, less desperate. It was something he usually saw at an airport or café or the apartment. Something he could prepare for, be remotely presentable for. Not here, not in some dingy basement, not in an old hoodie with smells of smoke and alcohol clinging to it from the hours spent sequestered in the dark and cold. He wasn’t supposed to see Phoenix like-

He looked away, staring at a random spot on the wall and sighing heavily.

“What are you doing here Edgeworth? You scared the crap out of me.”

“You knew I was flying in.”

“Yeah, tomorrow! You weren’t supposed to get in until morning.”

Edgeworth paused, expression strangely tight.

“…Is it a problem for me to arrive early?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Phoenix fought to control his tone. He had no reason to be mad. Why did he sound mad? He tried to force his voice back to something more casual. “You didn’t lose your key, did you? You know Trucy is a heavy sleeper, it wouldn’t bother her.”

“Of course I didn’t. I know how to take care of my things,” He said with that tone of his that broadcasted ‘unlike you’ without needing to say the words aloud. Phoenix smirked.

“Why aren’t you at the apartment, then? How did you even find this place? You’ve never been here.”

“I walked.”

Phoenix rolled his eyes.

“Really? I thought you flew.”

Edgeworth’s mouth twitched at the joke, but it wasn’t enough to deter him.

“Even if I’ve never visited before, I know the name of this place. I do have a phone with internet access.”

Edgeworth didn’t sound like he was up for banter. He seemed more frustrated than anything. If Phoenix were a smarter man he’d switch gears, welcome him properly, and play nice until he could wash away his bad mood in the shower.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

Wrong thing to say.

“It’s a public establishment, is it not?” Edgeworth snapped back.

Treading on thin ice, now. He should back off, he knew. He should smooth it over. They saw each other so rarely these days…

“It’s a shit hole, Edgeworth.”

“Then why are you still here?”

Five years on, and the words still cut. They cut deeper than they should, deeper then he should allow, into the core of his fragile self identity. Maybe if someone else had said it then it would bounce off like everything else. It did more often than not these days.

But not coming from him.

“I fucking work here.”

He turned away.

The table was a mess. The customer had knocked into it when he’d jumped up to try and knock Phoenix out, sending cards from both decks flying. Blue and red mixed together. The dealer would have his head if he left it like this for her to clean up in the morning.

So he started sorting. Red. Blue. Blue. Blue. Red. Blue.

“That isn’t what I meant, Wright.”

The old floors creaked behind Phoenix. The edge had disappeared from Edgeworth’s voice, morphing into something else. Something softer. Phoenix wished he would shut up and leave.

“I was only wondering why you’re here so late. You weren’t at the apartment. I realize you sometimes work late hours here, but aren’t you usually home by now?”

He was when he knew Edgeworth would be there.

“It goes late sometimes, is all.” He muttered.

Red. Red. Blue. Red. Red.

“Honestly Edgeworth just go to the apartment, you look like a breeze would knock you over. I won’t be long anyway.”

Red. Red. Blue.

“Wright.”

“Mhm?”

Red. Red. Red.

“Will you look at me?”

He paused, red card in hand, exposing a blue one underneath where he’d just picked it up. Edgeworth voice was painful to listen to. Warm, concerned, soft, pleading.

Phoenix hated it.

“Please.”

He let the red card drop, landing right back where it had been on top of the blue, and turned.

Edgeworth was closer than he’d expected, crowding Phoenix up against the table. His breath caught just for a moment in surprise. Edgeworth said nothing, reaching up to his face instead, hand gently cupping his injured jaw. He flinched at the touch; the sting had only gotten worse. Edgeworth didn’t seem to even notice, more focused on Phoenix’s fresh injury as he let his thumb gently brush over what must have been a forming bruise.

“What happened?”

Phoenix found his gaze sliding off to the side, landing on an old stain in the floor a couple feet away. A few thoughts passed through his mind. Flippant words, casual jokes, anything that would break the strange tension in the air.

“Sore loser,” is all he managed. “You probably passed him on the way out.”

He could practically see Edgeworth thinking, considering responses and tossing each one out in turn.

“Are you alright?” He finally settled on.

“It’s just a bruise. I think I’ll manage to power through it somehow.”

Edgeworth didn’t seem upset anymore, at least. If he tried kicking him out again that would change, right? He didn’t actually want to piss the man off, he just wanted him out of this room. Maybe a gentle nudge would work?

He tried to shift, a silent signal he needed to move. Edgeworth dropped his hand from Phoenix’s face, letting it fall to rest on Phoenix’s arm instead, but made no effort to get out of the way. Alright then. Edgeworth was being stubborn. Always the most difficult version to deal with. Phoenix let them lapse into silence as he considered what to say next.

It was then that his mind caught up with itself, the incongruous detail tugging at him since Edgeworth walked in finally revealing itself.

“You’re wearing a tie.”

He stared dumfounded at the thin fabric, tied as carefully as any jabot, but completely out of place on Edgeworth’s chest. How hadn’t he noticed before? Or he did and was just too focused on everything else for it to register. He reached for it without thinking, teasing it ever so slightly out from where it was tucked into Edgeworth’s dark waistcoat as he gripped it near the top.

“I didn’t even think you knew how to tie one of these.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. And would you stop playing with it?”

“I’m not playing, I’m curious. Why?”

He made a snap decision and pulled it out from under the waistcoat entirely, enjoying the noise of protest from Edgeworth.

“Would you stop? Do I need permission to wear ties now, Wright? Is there a committee I should be writing to?”

“Yeah, me.”

He couldn’t help but snicker as Edgeworth tried to smack his hand away.

“What happened, did the suitcase with the jabots get put on the wrong flight or something?” He joked, not paying much attention as he spoke. It was a nice tie at least, clearly well made and expensive, though that was hardly surprising. He was fairly certain Edgeworth had never been to anything resembling a department store in his entire life.

After a few too many beats of silence, Phoenix risked looking up. Edgeworth’s expression was oddly closed off. Phoenix thought over his last words, momentarily worried he’d fucked up again, before it hit him.

“You’re messing with me.”

Edgeworth stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

“Seriously? That’s what actually happened?”

“…One particular piece of luggage may have been placed on the wrong flight.”

He couldn’t help it; the blush of embarrassment crawling up Edgeworth’s face was too much. He burst out laughing.

“Oh shut up, Wright!”

Phoenix leaned back so he was far enough away to not be literally laughing in Edgeworth’s face.

“Are you really so bothered by me wearing a tie?”

Phoenix shook his head, trying too hard to choke back his laughter to actually answer.

Edgeworth rolled his eyes. He took a half step back so his hands could come up to the now thoroughly messed up tie to undo it in a few deft motions before sliding it off completely.

“Better?” Edgeworth asked dryly.

Phoenix shook his head again, coughing a few times as the laughter finally started to subside.

“Like I actually care,” he managed to choke out, “You just caught me off guard. I hope you’ll be ok though. You know, having to walk around half naked until your suitcase gets here.”

“It will be difficult, of course, but no doubt I will manage. As long as you aren’t too embarrassed to be seen with me in that state.” Edgeworth smirked, the closest thing to a real smile on his face since he’d walked into the room.

“I’m not exactly walking around in high fashion myself. You’ll look overdressed next to me no matter how naked your poor neck is.”

Phoenix started to push himself back up to a proper standing position. Edgeworth had given him a little extra space, so he wasn’t left quite as contained as before. The levity of the last few moments seemed to deflate as quickly as they’d come, reality creeping its way back in. They shouldn’t be doing this here. Home, a restaurant, a bench, anywhere else would be better.

“Look, you really don’t need to stand down here waiting for me. You can go upstairs-or outside even, it’s nice enough out. I will literally only be a few minutes.”

“If it’ll be such a short time then I can wait here.”

“You don’t have to, though.”

“Do you not want me here?”

Edgeworth’s tone caught him off guard. Not obviously angry or upset or accusatory, but not truly neutral either. The room seemed colder, all of a sudden, as if a winter wind had blown through. Phoenix had messed up again.

“You know it’s not that.”

“Do I? You keep coming back to this Wright, as if you’re desperate for me to leave.”

“That’s not it.” He insisted. “It’s just not the kind of place you’d usually choose to spend time, right? No reason to force yourself.”

He slid out from the tight space before Edgeworth could respond. After a moment of indecision he bent down to collect the few cards that had been tossed from the table.

“I don’t want to leave.” Edgeworth said to his back, voice quiet. “Do you want me to?”

No.

“Yes.”

Edgeworth was unphased at the bluntness, as if he’d expected that response.

“Why?”

Phoenix huffed.

“This is stupid,” he muttered as he grabbed the table and pulled himself back up, letting out an involuntary grunt from the movement. Maya’s old man taunts suddenly felt a lot more accurate.

He kept his eyes on the table as he tried to slip past Edgeworth again. The man had taken it upon himself to stand in the most inconvenient spot possible in the tiny space, to the point Phoenix could barely get around the table.

He didn’t make it. He was pulled up short, violently yanked back in place. He couldn’t help the small yelp he let out. After a couple of seconds of shock his senses caught up and he realized the source of the trouble; Edgeworth had a death grip on the front of his hoodie.

“Hey!” He sputtered.

“Would you look at me?”

His head snapped up in surprise, an automatic response to years of hearing every tone and variation in this man’s voice and learning the difference between the kind of mad you could ignore the kind of mad you’d regret ignoring.

Edgeworth’s expression was hard. This was a lot more than mild annoyance.

“I was trying to clean up,” Phoenix protested weakly.

“You’re trying to run away.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t even start, Wright.” Edgeworth’s grip on the hoodie only tightened, fabric bunching up in his hands. “Do you think I don’t notice?”

“Notice what?” Stupid question. He didn’t want to hear the answer.

“The way you run from me. The way you hide from me. The way you don’t talk about what you’re doing or what goes on in your day, the way you wear different clothes around me, the way you present yourself as if nothing has changed.

“You would have never even told me about this place on your own, would you? You would have avoided the topic for as long as you could, or just outright lied to me. I had to find out through your daughter.”

Phoenix felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“And even then you won’t talk about it, won’t let me even think about it. Would you have even told me about this if I hadn’t shown up tonight?”

Edgeworth looked at the bruise as if it had personally offended him.

“Would you have tried to cover it up and pretend it never happened? Or make up a safe lie to explain it?”

For a moment he felt as if he were watching this entire scene from a distance. Edgeworth faded as the realization hit, the concrete knowledge that once again, Phoenix had failed. He’d failed as a lawyer. Barely hung on as a father. Bullshitted and borderline cheated at being a poker player. And now this. The one thing he was supposed to be good at-the one thing that had ever kept him employed in the first place. And Edgeworth had seen right through it. Through every bluff, every misdirection, every clawing, desperate attempt to hold on to a partnership built on a life he no longer had. He’d failed, again

Something in Phoenix snapped.

“What the hell do you want from me? What do you want me to say? Hey Edgeworth, how’s it going, teaching at prestigious universities and studying law with top talents from around the world in multiple countries? Today I pretended to play the piano for a few hours before spending the night getting a headache from a client smoking throughout an entire poker game, getting paid like shit before getting home at 3 am to realize I forgot to have dinner ready for my kid before I left and the kitchen is a mess because she had to do it herself. I’m doing fucking fantastic, how about you!”

Phoenix took petty enjoyment out of the expression on Edgeworth’s face as he was taken aback by Phoenix’s outburst. Though to his credit, he recovered quickly, as unwilling to back down as ever.

“If that was your day then yes!”

Phoenix laughed, ugly and bitter.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

He gripped Edgeworth’s wrist.

“Let go of me. I’m not going stand here in the middle of the fucking night to get yelled at. I’m tired.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Not until you listen to me.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he was this angry. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt rage boiling over like this. He couldn’t deal with this. He couldn’t deal with Edgeworth.

“Get out.”

“Why, so you can sit here and wallow?”

Phoenix grit his teeth, fighting for something resembling control. Edgeworth still hadn’t let go of his shirt and it took most of his willpower to not try and rip the man’s hand away.

“What if I do? What if I sat here all night drinking my life away! What if I stumbled into the night and passed out on a bench! What are you going to do about it? I’m an adult, Edgeworth, not your fucking ward. You don’t get to tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing!”

Phoenix wished at least one thing he said hit Edgeworth a fraction as hard as his words hit him. Edgeworth dug into every weak point with his words, tearing at the seams with calculated precision. Phoenix, in comparison, was flailing wildly.

“But you get to decide for me? Every time you lie, every time you carefully craft exactly what you think I should see, every time you pretend you’re ok when you aren’t.”

“We aren’t tied at the goddamn hip. I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“But you won’t tell me anything.”

Edgeworth suddenly stopped, taking a sharp, shaky breath. His grip loosened, just a fraction. Phoenix stayed silent, watching the sudden change warily.

“Do you even want me in your life, Phoenix?”

It was as if ice water had been poured over him. A wave of shock jolted through his body. Whatever he’d been about to say died in his throat, every angry thought strangled in its crib.

“…What?”

The energy seemed to drain from Edgeworth’s entire form. His hands finally dropped, releasing Phoenix’s hoodie, and his shoulders sagged. Exhaustion radiated out from him.

“I don’t doubt you care for me, Wright. But you expend so much energy to distancing yourself from me. I feel as if every time I see you there’s another piece missing. Something else you’ve decided I shouldn’t see.”

Phoenix’s mouth had gone dry.

“It’s difficult not to wonder at times,” Edgeworth continued, gripping his own arm in a painfully familiar gesture as he seemed to curl in on himself, “if you truly want me to be a part of your life as a…partner.”

“Miles…” Phoenix lurched forward, laying his hand over Edgeworth’s.

“That’s not it. Please don’t think that.” He tried to pry at Edgeworth’s fingers, replacing the grip he had on his own arm with Phoenix’s hand. Edgeworth seemed to hesitate as he studied his face.

“Then what is it, Phoenix? It feels as if you’re making decisions for me, assuming how I might feel or react. Do you not trust me? Do you think me so shallow that my love for you is dependent on what job you hold or whether you wear a suit every day? Do you think all of this,” he gestured vaguely at their surroundings, “will change how I see you?”

“What if it does?” He spoke without thinking, the words coming out in a broken whisper. He couldn’t meet Edgeworth’s eyes anymore, though he knew they were watching him. “I’m not-I’m not the same person I was before. What if it’s too much? What if I’ve lost every part of me you cared about?”

The admission dropped between them like a weight. The silence was heavy, a deep pressure squeezing his chest.

“Phoenix. Do you think I’m the same person I was at twenty-five?”

“That’s…”

“Wright.”

He couldn’t help the slight flinch at the disapproving tone.

“Of course not Miles but it’s not-you can’t compare that. You’re older and wiser and more patient and sometimes a little less stubborn but the core of who you are is the same. You’re still you, you’re still the person I…”

He faltered then, unable to follow through with the thought to its inevitable conclusion.

“But you’re fundamentally different, is your theory,” Edgeworth finished for him, tone oddly neutral, almost academic. Phoenix almost chuckled.

“Phoenix…you’re a better liar than you used to be. More calculating. More calm. But please listen to me, actually listen to me when I tell you that you are still Phoenix Wright. You are a fool who throws his entire self into whatever he does, who dedicates himself rashly and completely to the people he cares about, to the people he might be able to help. You are determined and kind to a fault no matter how many layers of sarcasm and snark you try to hide it under. You are still a good man, and no, I do not care about your opinion on the matter because this time, you are wrong.

“I do not love you because of a badge, I don’t fly back here or fly you across the globe out of some obligation, or for some idealized version of you in mind that hasn’t existed for half a decade. I love you for who you are. I want to be with you, the person in front of me right now. Is that so hard for you to believe?”

His throat felt tight. He swallowed back the feelings threatening to burst, a mess too tangled for him to even look at. He knew he should say something. Nothing felt right.

Instead he let himself fall forward, burying his face in Edgeworth’s shoulder. Despite hours through airports and on a plane it still smelled like him.

“I’ve missed you,” He muttered into the fabric. There was only a beat before he felt Edgeworth’s arms snaking around and pulling him in tighter.

“As have I.”

“I’m sorry,” Phoenix said, still refusing to move. It was weak and pathetic, but it was the only thing he could think of. Everything else was too much. Too difficult.

“All I want is for you to stop hiding from me. You don’t have to.”

As close as they were, Phoenix could feel the vibration of the words nearly as much as he heard them.

“…I love you Miles.”

“I love you too.”

They stood there in silence, unmoving. This wasn’t the end-not even close. Like a bone being rebroken so it could heal correctly. Progress, but far from the end. He tried not to think about it too much. They’d get there eventually. Right?

The seconds ticked by but Phoenix felt no desire to raise his head from where it was buried in Edgeworth’s jacket. It wasn’t until the distant nagging in the back of his mind, reminding him of things like “you have a daughter” became too much to ignore the he reluctantly lifted his head.

“I really do need to finish cleaning up before I go.” He said apologetically as he gently pulled himself out of Edgeworth’s embrace. For what it was worth, the man didn’t try to fight it, letting his arms fall as Phoenix stepped back. Only his furrowed brow gave away his true feelings on the matter.

Until, a couple of seconds later, Phoenix felt a thin piece of cloth being tossed around his neck and pulled taunt.

There wasn’t much of a chance to react as Edgeworth pulled him into a kiss. It was rough and sloppy and sudden and earnest and desperate in a way that felt almost foreign now. Phoenix was happy to reciprocate, pressing himself into Edgeworth and enjoying every inch of contact.

It had been months since they’d been in the same room together. He couldn’t bring Edgeworth close enough.

And then Edgeworth shoved Phoenix back, breaking them apart as Phoenix was pushed roughly into the table. He threw out a hand to catch himself, the edge of the table digging into his palm as he did.

Edgeworth didn’t give him a chance to recover, chasing the movement as he crowded Phoenix, one hand still holding the tie tight.

“A fan of ties now, Milies?” Phoenix breathed. This was probably a bad idea. He couldn’t bring himself to care. It was a hell of a lot better than anything that came before it.

“Only on you.” Edgeworth wasted no time. He slid his knee between Phoenix’s legs, pinning him properly to the table.

“I thought you were tired,” Phoenix said with a small chuckle, the noise unsteady as Edgeworth’s other hand found his waist.

“Not anymore.”

“Bullshit.”

The hand had found the bottom of his hoodie, threatening to bring it up. His leg pressed in ever so slightly more.

“What about you, Wright?”

Phoenix didn’t answer with words. In fact, neither of them said very much after that. At least, not anything coherent.

But it didn’t matter. They didn’t need words. Not right now. Not for a little while, for a few stolen private moments as they reaffirmed all the things both had been questioning. It wasn’t a solution. But it was enough, for now.

***

It wasn’t until much later, when the two of them were comfortably curled up in bed, that he realized.

He forgot about the damn cards.