Wrightworth Oneshots

Don't You Go (All Time Low)

Warning: implied smut

Phoenix blinked lazily as the sun hit his face. An exciting yet familiar scent brought back the memories from the night before. Images and sensations came flooding in like his own personal highlight reel.

The taxi ride home from the bar. A tension Phoenix couldn't explain at the time. The rattling of his keys as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Surprise, as Edgeworth's strong hands grabbed his shoulders. Stubble on his mouth. The taste of alcohol on his tongue. Ripping Edgeworth's shirt open a bit too impatiently, causing a button to fly off and hit Phoenix in the face. Laughter. The most beautiful laughter he'd ever heard. Panting, moaning. The most beautiful moans he'd ever heard. Soft skin, rough hands, pushing, pulling, squeezing. The smells of sweat and other bodily fluids, mixed with Edgeworth's cologne. And pure ecstasy.

"You're awake." Edgeworth's voice pulled him out of his trance. He didn't sound too pleased.

Phoenix turned around and saw Edgeworth, fully dressed, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"I think what you meant to say was 'good morning'," Phoenix joked.
But Edgeworth didn't reply. He just stared at the sheets like he was trying to burn a hole in them.
After about a minute of silent staring, he finally spoke.
"This was a one time thing, Wright."
He still wasn't looking him in the eyes.

Phoenix frowned.
"You're still here, though."

"That I am," Edgeworth replied. He didn't look too happy about it, but made no attempts to get up and leave.

"A one time thing, huh?" Phoenix sat up, letting the sheets slide down to his hips. He suddenly felt very naked next to a fully dressed Edgeworth, cravat and all.
"Last night, it really seemed like you were enjoying yourself, between all the 'is this okay?'s and 'yes, right there's." Phoenix crossed his arms as Miles winced and pulled a face, as if he didn't want to be reminded.
"And now you're telling me you never want to have that again? If you regret it, you can just tell me."

"It's not about what I want," Edgeworth grumbled between clenched teeth. "It's about whether we should. It... it was wrong."
And with that, he got up.

"Didn't feel wrong," Phoenix replied, but Edgeworth was already on his way to the door.

"Edgeworth, wait. Hey, Edgeworth!"

No reaction.
Phoenix scrambled to get up, the sheets falling to the floor.

"Miles!!"

Miles stopped in the doorway and whipped around. The emotions on his face were too complex for a slightly hungover Phoenix to decipher.

"You started this, Miles," Phoenix said. "I thought you'd learned not to walk away from the consequences of your actions."

"Phoenix," Miles growled, his cold eyes fixed on Phoenix's. "You're pushing your luck."

Phoenix rolled his eyes.
"Please. Don't tell me you don't care. When that guy at the bar punched me in the face, it was you who got me the bag of ice and the taxi. You chose to get in the car with me. You chose to walk me to the door. And you and I both know that you knew I would have been sober enough to make it home alone."
More memories of last night came back as he was speaking.
"Miles," he repeated. His tone was a bit softer now. "I don't want the first time to be the last time. It's the weekend, you could stay for another day or two. We could... get it out of our systems." He swallowed. "And then never talk about it again.

Miles looked him up and down, chewing his lip.
"You're serious about this, aren't you, Phoenix?"

Phoenix just stared him in the eyes. He knew it was written all over his face.

Miles nodded.
"Still, I'll have to go get some things from my place. Why don't you make breakfast while I'm gone?"