Word Count: 462
Warning: Nothing but subtext!
Challenge: Written for gyakuten100's 'Sacrifice' challenge, but fell short of the deadline by a day. :(
[Come on, come on, just one more move...] Phoenix had given up all pretense of disinterest. He watched, almost unblinking, as Edgeworth's manicured hand hovered over the half-empty board for one heartbeat, another. Those long fingers finally rested gently on the top of the queen; Phoenix caught his breath, held it, until the ebony piece slid smoothly across the polished wood.
The moment Edgeworth's fingers left the piece, Phoenix broke out in a triumphant grin, slid his bishop into place, and snatched up the black queen. "Check! Not bad for a first-timer, eh Edgeworth?"
Edgeworth only shook his head, as a smile turned up one corner of his lips, and the triumph that had swelled in Phoenix's chest was suddenly smothered. That smile was all too familiar. It never boded well in court, and he was damn sure he wasn't going to like what happened next.
The trap that Edgeworth had laid out for him was suddenly blindingly obvious once he'd moved his knight into position. Staring at the board did nothing to change the fact that Phoenix had just been thoroughly trounced; with a growl of frustration the attorney let his head sink to his hands and braced his elbows on the table. "You couldn't have gone easy on the poor novice?"
"I was going easy on you." Phoenix glared at him through his spread fingers, and the smirk that crawled across Edgeworth's face made him shudder. "Wright, eventually you will have to learn. Sometimes you must give up the things you value, for the chance at something greater."
Phoenix leaned back in his chair, shifting awkwardly as the scrolled wood dug into his back. Edgeworth was still smirking until Phoenix caught his eyes and held them; the stare between them lasted too long, and Edgeworth's smirk gave way to a slightly crinkled brow and something that wasn't quite a frown. When Phoenix replied, his voice was even. "I've given up a lot of things to chase dreams. It was all instinct, though, I never learned how to apply the lesson."
Silence hung between them a bit longer, until Edgeworth stood suddenly and crossed the room to his desk. "I have some case files to look over."
"I'll leave you to it, then." Phoenix got to his feet, pushed the chair back, and started for the door.
Phoenix paused with his hand on the doorknob. Edgeworth was looking at him intently from behind the desk, but as Phoenix turned the prosecutor looked away, holding his arm in a familiar nervous gesture. "If you're going to learn, I suppose I'll have to be the one to teach you. We will do this again sometime?"
"Sure," Phoenix smiled, warmly, though Edgeworth didn't see it, and as he left the office he called back over his shoulder, "I could use the practice."
Word Count: 735
Warning: No spoilers, just sex. YAY. Equivalent to NC-17 Rating.
Challenge: Written for gyakuten100's 'Sacrifice' challenge, but not only did this one miss the deadline, it also ended up a couple hundred words too long for posting there. Sad.
The air outside had been cool but they're rapidly heating up now, proximity and, more importantly, contact making them flush. He stumbles as they reach the couch, overbalances and takes Edgeworth down with him so that the prosecutor is sitting and Phoenix is on his knees on the floor, his arms splayed out on either side of him.
Phoenix pushes up on his arms until their noses are almost touching. Edgeworth's cheeks are strikingly pink against his pale face, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark, his lips hanging open just so, his breath already in soft pants. A wicked grin before Phoenix dives, capturing his lips and burying himself in the familiar taste of darjeeling and the smell of expensive cologne. Everything about the prosecutor, so proper - until Phoenix has him like this, and the veneer of propriety is so easy to shatter with the right moves.
His hand dips low, brushes soft wool. The hand fisting almost painfully in the hair on the back of his head is his only answer, and he smiles into the kiss, breaks it reluctantly to fumble with a ridiculously small button...
[My kingdom for a pocket flashlight.]
...then the zipper. Immediately, obligingly, Edgeworth raises his hips, almost bucking forwards. Phoenix grips the waistband of his suit pants, his boxers, and drags them both down, slowly. Creamy white skin is revealed, little by little, teasing them both; Phoenix feels a shiver pass through Edgeworth and pauses, breathes hotly on his hip and watches the goosebumps spring up across the skin that's already exposed. The fist knots tighter in his hair, then loosens.
Edgeworth hasn't made a sound, yet.
The fabric is jerked down the rest of the way and left tangled around Edgeworth's knees. Phoenix is rewarded with a quiet gasp, but he's looking for much more. Before Edgeworth's adjusted to the cold air Phoenix swallows him, taking in most of his length with one sudden movement. A miscalculation almost results in him gagging, but he forces down the reflex and [Oh god, it's so worth it to hear him scream like that].
After that it all dissolves into moans and desperate whimpering, the kind of sounds Edgeworth would never admit to outside of this passion, and the taste of salt and smooth and wrinkled skin under his dancing tongue. When both fists tangle painfully in his hair, and Edgeworth's fevered body is suddenly curled above his head, Phoenix takes all of him in, just in time for the hot spill to travel down his throat (though a little drips back onto his tongue, salt and sweet, and he wonders if he'll ever be used to that taste). Some moments of exquisite tension then Edgeworth collapses back onto the couch, a ragdoll, breathing shallowly and eyelids fluttering closed.
With a Cheshire grin Phoenix wipes his mouth and climbs up onto the couch, mimicking Miles' posture with his head laying on the back cushions.
"That was cruel."
Lifting his head, Phoenix finds a half-lidded glare fixed on his face, and his smile widens. "If you made it easier to get that kind of reaction, I wouldn't have to resort to dirty tactics."
Edgeworth smirks in response, lets his head fall back and closes his eyes. "Just give me a minute."
Phoenix does so - a minute, another, until Miles' breathing evens out and his muscles lose what tension they might have retained. Finally, Phoenix climbs slowly to his feet and wanders into the bedroom, where he grabs the comforter off his bed and drags it back into the living room, stopping at the hall closet to get a towel. Carefully he cleans Miles up, takes off what clothing he can without waking him, and curls up next to him, covering them both with the comforter.
It hadn't taken him long to figure out exactly what Edgeworth really needed at the end of these difficult trials. The ones that were more intense than usual, that lasted the full three days and left him with no more than two hours of sleep in that amount of time. After the first few nights of being unable to drag Edgeworth to bed (or to do so, only to have him up and fiddling about in the middle of the night) Phoenix had chanced upon this solution. It's a bit of a sacrifice, true. But the peace on Miles' face as he sleeps is worth it...
...and besides, Phoenix knows the next morning will more than make up for it.