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Even Miles himself had no clue how in the world Butz had managed to convince him to come out for “boys’ night out”. No, actually, he did know. The reason was a certain man who had apparently had to cancel the day of because of some new minor disaster striking him. Larry was vague and confusing, as was his wont, but apparently he'd had to duck out for an investigation. Miles wasn’t overly concerned about it seeing as he figured he'd find out about whatever impossible case Wright had taken upon himself to solve when he got into work tomorrow, since he wasn't foolish enough to investigate every crime scene for himself when there were professional investigators who could do it for him.
Either way, he was now sitting in a booth in the corner nursing a drink while Larry ranted at him about his current so-called “situationship”. Miles was barely listening, instead gazing around the dimly lit room. He had to give credit where it was due, Larry had chosen a pretty clean and calm locale rather than the seedy bar with sticky tables and scummy clientele that Miles had been afraid would greet him when he walked through the door. Still, he would have liked it better if Wright was there to do the heavy lifting in the conversation. It wasn’t exactly Miles’ strong suit. He tuned back in to what Larry was saying in time to hear that he was still talking about the same situation that he had before Miles tuned out, although perhaps more dreamily than before. Like he'd somehow managed to talk himself into liking her more or again or something.
Not that he seems to need any lifting.
How they'd been friends when Larry was a kid (and thus somehow even more energetic and absurd) was beyond him. But... He supposed Deb Mayn had been there as a buffer. She had been annoying to his child self from time to time too, of course, but she was always very attentive to Miles' needs and would often take Larry's rather overwhelming attention away from him before he snapped at him. Hearing her and Larry's voices buzzing in the background as Miles concentrated on something else, without having to worry about whether he would have to chime in at some point, had been very comforting to him at the time. He had wondered what would become of her from time to time after they were separated, since she was a very clever young woman yet so unlikely to put work into school unless Miles made her do it. He hadn't known what her surname was, though, so he had had no way to find out. It was unfortunate, but he would just have to live with not knowing. Unless... Unless Larry knew. He didn't know whether the two of them had kept in touch, as Larry had never mentioned her, but maybe the Butz would at least make himself useful by remembering her full name if nothing else. That way, Miles’ idle questions could be put to rest. Besides, it would almost certainly be better than hearing about Larry's various girlfriends. At least if one were to assume the two of them hadn't gotten together, which he desperately hoped was the case. Sitting through Larry raving about an ex partner Miles knew (or had known, as it were) could only be worse than hearing about a stranger. Still, this was the perfect time to ask without making Wright sit through an awkward conversation about a childhood friend he likely didn't know in the first place! When else would he have the chance to? He would rather not have to seek out Butz on his own again if he could help it.
He listened more attentively now, as he waited for Larry to pause his barrage. He had to listen to more of the usual things, Larry bragging about his partner’s beauty and business sense and all in all mostly making Miles wonder how in the world he managed to get together with such a competent woman. But finally Larry took a sip from his drink and Miles wasted no time in butting in.
“What happened to our mutual friend from school?” he asked and Larry frowned.
“What? I told you already, he's looking for clues in his client's apartment since he thinks the killer came in through the window after shooting an arrow, with a line tied to it, through it to create a zipline. Also there was something about a pie–...”
A headache started at Miles' right temple. He had a terrible premonition that this was not going to be as easy as he would have liked it to be.
“Thank you, Larry, but I'd rather hear that from the idiot's own dumb mouth during the trial.” he sighed and Larry smirked his stupid smug smirk.
“I'm sure you would.” he said loftily and Miles glared at him, embarrassed.
“What are you implying?”
“Oh, nothing...” Larry chuckled, clearly not intimidated at all despite the glare. Miles blushed and looked away. Time for a change of subject...
“Well, he wasn't the person I was referring to.” he said after clearing his throat, “I mean our mutual friend back when we first met.”
Larry stared at him like he had lost his mind, ironically.
“Nick.” he said flatly and there was the headache again.
“No, our childhood friend.” he said, slowly, and Larry threw out his hands and almost knocked over his glass. Miles protectively pulled his closer to himself.
“I said Nick! And I already explained what he's up to! Weren't you listening to me?” he asked, tearing up. Miles reeled back slightly, a mixture of guilt and embarrassment making him fiddle with his sleeves.
“Erm. Indubitibly...” he stalled. He hadn't listened very closely to Larry during the entire evening, but Larry was also wrong! Unless he had explained what Deb was up to when Miles had been tuned out? Which would be very embarrassing. He cleared his throat again, “You did?”
“Duh! I only know one lawyer, man, who else would I be talking about?” Larry said and thus made Miles regret ever giving him the benefit of the doubt.
“No, I'm talking about a woman.”
Larry stared at him for several seconds as his mind apparently buffered.
“... Maya?” he guessed finally. Miles pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling tested.
“From our childhood.”
“Our only childhood friend is Nick!” Larry insisted and Miles felt a stab of pain behind his eyes.
Just what is this man's definition of childhood???
“No, Deb Mayn!” Miles exclaimed, frowning as he massaged his aching temple. He could swear he was losing brain cells. Larry looked like he was thinking so intensely that it was hurting him. Once in a while, he would lose that concentrated expression and just stare at Miles for a couple of seconds before returning to the concentration. Miles desperately downed his drink.
“Nah, I have never met someone named that in my life.” he concluded finally and Miles once again got the feeling that he'd come out of this situation dumber than before he'd gotten into it. He refused to subject himself to more of it.
“Ngh... Forget it...” he forced out through gritted teeth and Larry shrugged and launched into telling him about the time he'd saved Miles from a prison sentence, which Miles had been there for thank you very much. Miles rested his forehead in his palm and tried to get back some of the serenity he'd only been able to feel before he'd ever had the displeasure of speaking with Larry Butz.
*****
Phoenix was slumping on the office couch and trying to recover from a harrowing trial when the door slammed open. He barely flinched, expecting Maya to be back from her burger run, but before he could call out in greeting...
“Nick!” shouted a voice that was definitely not Maya's and Phoenix suppressed a sigh. Larry had a good heart and all, but he was very much too high energy to deal with now, not that he had much of a choice.
“Hey Larry...” he said half-heartedly as Larry poked his head over the couch so that they could see each other.
“Nick! Wassup!” Larry said and vaulted over the couch, landing on Phoenix's outstretched legs. Phoenix winced, feeling them bend a little too much in the wrong direction, and pulled them out from under Larry's inconsiderate butt.
“I'm fine, you?” he asked, just to be polite, and Larry lit up as he slumped into the cushions. Phoenix pulled up his legs, so that his socked feet just barely didn’t touch Larry’s pant leg, and pushed himself further up the armrest.
“I'm great! I'm meeting Amelia's family in a week!” he said, beaming. Phoenix took a moment to rack his tired brain and see if he recognized the name but came up empty.
“That's great.” he said as he looked towards his work space and decided to try coming up with a mental list of the things he had to do before closing shop for the day.
“Isn't it! Anyways, me and Edgy missed you yesterday.” he said and Phoenix perked up, head snapping towards Larry. Edgeworth had missed him?
“Did he?” he asked, too eagerly, and Larry smirked at him.
“‘Course! He asked about you.” he said and Phoenix waited patiently to hear about the context of the question, but Larry was not a particularly talented story teller, “And also about some woman?”
Phoenix sank down onto the armrest again, disappointed. Maybe Larry wasn't actually that good at figuring out Edgeworth's feelings, despite having known him for as long as Phoenix. To be fair, Phoenix probably spent more time on thinking and paying attention to Edgeworth than Larry did on account of the... everything. In any case, Edgeworth just asking about Phoenix was hardly proof that he was missing him. Especially if he mentioned Phoenix and a random woman as if they were at roughly the same level of interest to him.
“Some woman?” he asked dryly and Larry, predictably, did not seem to notice his tone.
“Yeah, Deb Mayn.” he said and Phoenix flinched and stared at him, wide-eyed and feeling as if he was standing under one of Maya’s ice cold showers, but Larry kept talking, “He asked what happened to her and was acting like I knew her but I've never met anyone called that.”
“Shit.” Phoenix breathed out, dread settling in quickly. What did that mean? Why would Edgeworth ask about that? He was struck by a very, very unfortunate suspicion. Larry hummed in a way that would seem exaggerated if it was anyone else.
“Come to think of it... That was yours, wasn't it? What a coincidence!” Larry said cheerfully as Phoenix felt his world turn upside down. No... There was no way Edgeworth didn't know. He couldn't not know!
He doesn’t know!
“Oh god, he meant me.” he said and Larry jolted upright and gasped.
“What? He deadnamed you? What a freak!” he exclaimed with genuine anger and Phoenix covered his face with his hands, pressing his head back in the pillow in an attempt to ground himself as Larry kept rambling, “What's wrong with him? Why would he do that? Has he done that before? I didn't think he was the type! Why are we still friends with him?”
Phoenix groaned to himself and then suddenly realised what Larry was saying and looked up at him.
“No, no... he doesn't know that it's me.” he said miserably but Larry still looked upset.
“He's... trying to be transphobic to someone else? Or are you in denial? Whatever, he's still the worst!” he snapped and Phoenix shook his head and tried to savor the last few moments of relative peace before the relentless teasing he was going to have to deal with.
“He doesn't know I knew him as a child! He thinks I'm just a random person!” he explained, disbelief coloring his tone. He still couldn't wrap his head around the conclusion he himself had drawn. It was unbelievably silly and how hadn't Edgeworth filed a restraining order against him yet? Why hadn’t he done a background check on him or something? Why wouldn’t he know? Who did he think Phoenix was?
There was a moment of blessed silence, and then Larry started cackling.
*****
“Hey, Edgeworth...” Phoenix said as the man in question opened the door. Edgeworth nodded distractedly at him, very clearly not noticing his mood, and left the door open as he walked back into the house in the direction of the kitchen. He had a frilly pink apron on, tied with a bow in the back, and Phoenix didn't bother smothering his smile at that, despite the fact that Edgeworth had proved to have eyes in the back of his head.
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Wright!” Edgeworth called out, as Phoenix had figured that he would. He snickered as he toed off his shoes, putting them next to each other neatly because Edgeworth would do it if he didn’t and he would complain about it at length, before following him. Edgeworth had some soft piano music playing in the background as he cooked (that Phoenix couldn't help but think sounded very similar to the music blaring from the TV whenever Maya watched that Steel Samurai show). The food, whatever it was, was bubbling pleasantly and Phoenix walked up to him and peeked around his shoulder to see what he was making. He was stirring some kind of tomato sauce with a bunch of lumps in it. Beside it, on the stovetop, was a pot of pasta.
“What are you making?” Phoenix asked as he leaned in to smell it. His stomach growled hungrily as soon as the scent hit his nostrils and Edgeworth gently smacked his shoulder with the hand he wasn't holding the sleeve with.
“Wright, don't act like an animal.” he admonished but let Phoenix take another sniff before forcing him back. He stirred it again, frowning slightly, “This is Italian meatballs with tomato sauce and spaghetti.”
“It smells really good.” Phoenix said and spotted the small smile at the corner of Edgeworth’s mouth that followed his words. He smiled back, despite the fact that Edgeworth wasn't looking at him, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, set the table if you don't mind.”
Phoenix did as he was told (He knew which cabinets and drawers Edgeworth kept the silverware in by now, and wasn't that almost dizzying?) and listened to the sound of Edgeworth draining the pasta water back in the kitchen. They chatted a little about the trial as Edgeworth finished up dinner and Edgeworth didn't seem at all annoyed about his loss, not even when he talked about something Phoenix had said that had baffled him so much that he forgot to object to it. It would be a shame to potentially ruin this very rare and amicable (almost gentle) ambiance by revealing both of their stupidity. Still Phoenix absolutely could not let that kind of fundamental misunderstanding go on for any longer than it had to and he had to tell Edgeworth today or it might not happen. Ambushing him in his own house might not be very nice, but Phoenix figured that Edgeworth couldn't really run away there the same way he could somewhere else and Phoenix didn't know what he would do if Edgeworth ran away to Europe again because of this.
Despite all that, he stalled the actual telling and explaining until after they'd eaten. It tasted as good as it smelled and Phoenix had told Edgeworth so, perhaps trying to butter him up a little before the probable blow to his ego and the almost guaranteed recontextualisation he would have to do regarding their entire relationship. Edgeworth was clearly starting to catch on to Phoenix's mood once they were sitting in front of each other and could see each other's faces. Phoenix had kind of expected that, he had been told multiple times that his poker face was awful. He still didn't say anything. He didn't even know where to begin.
“Spit it out, Wright.” Edgeworth said finally, interrupting Phoenix's increasingly nervous chatter about cleaning products. Phoenix obediently stopped talking, took a sip of wine and swallowed one too many times while Edgeworth was clearly losing his patience. Phoenix watched the vein in his forehead with a distinct sense of dread.
“You know I'm trans, right?” he blurted without thinking and Edgeworth paused on his way to presumably tell him to say something already and raised his eyebrows instead. His eyes then widened and then his eyelids lowered and he smiled in that sideways way he had started smiling in after the resolution of DL-6. He looked... excited, for some reason.
“No, I didn't.” he said and Phoenix hadn't expected him to get it just like that but he still didn't know how to explain it and oh man...
“I am. A trans man, that is?”
“Mhm?” Edgeworth said, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin against it in an altogether unlike him kind of way that made Phoenix start to sweat. He really wasn’t going to get it if Phoenix didn’t spell it out, huh?
“Yeah, Larry forgets sometimes despite having known me since before I knew.” he said, trying to work up to it. Edgeworth rolled his eyes.
“Yes, Larry does seem very forgetful when it comes to facts about his friends’ pasts.”
Phoenix almost grimaced. Sure, Larry deserved a lot of criticism for many things but when it came to this? He hadn't done anything that wrong. Incorrect, yes, but not wrong. Not that Edgeworth knew that, which was why Phoenix had to get to the point already!
“Well... I was your childhood friend, along with Larry.” he said as he slowly pulled his keychain of signal blue, the one that was usually attached to his briefcase, out of his pocket. Larry and Maya had insisted he take it, and he was very thankful for it now that his tongue felt like it was tying itself into knots. Edgeworth's eyes were drawn to it immediately and he paled slightly, like he'd just had a terrible realisation. Phoenix kept talking, even though it probably wasn’t needed anymore, “But I don't use that name anymore.”
“NNnnghooooooh...” Edgeworth groaned empathically as he leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Phoenix watched him nervously, although he wasn’t sure what he was nervous about. Maybe he just didn’t want things to change. They could meet up for dinner now, even though he was practically a stranger to Edgeworth! That was a big deal and they’d gone through a lot to get to that point so he wasn’t sure what he would do if this realization made things awkward. Probably something stupid, based on his track record regarding Edgeworth. But suddenly Edgeworth let out a peal of slightly unhinged laughter and Phoenix folded his arms over his chest to stop himself from reaching out to... steady him? Comfort him? Just touch him? He was still leaning back and Phoenix could see his chest hitch up and down in time with his breaths. If only he understood what it all meant he might have been able to appreciate it more, though!
“Is that a good or bad laugh?” Phoenix asked when Edgeworth leaned forward and doubled over instead, just barely avoiding dipping his bangs onto his plate. Edgeworth giggled and despite the confusion and worry and the overall weirdness of the situation Phoenix couldn’t help but smile at him. He seemed so young when he was red in the face from wheezing laughter.
“This explains a lot!” he gasped, his eyes shiny from unshed tears of (hopefully) laughter.
“What do you mean?” Phoenix asked hesitantly and Edgeworth smiled widely, showing basically all of his teeth. Phoenix’s chest hurt from the sight of him so unabashedly joyful.
“Oh, I don’t know... Why Larry never brought you up? Why you’ve always acted like you know me?”
Phoenix shivered as he tried to imagine himself in Edgeworth’s shoes. Some strange person loosely referencing past interactions that you didn’t remember and insisting on saving you?
“You must have thought I was out of my mind.” he huffed out and Edgeworth snickered and the corners of his eyes wrinkled prettily.
“Well... Moreso now, in all honesty.”
Phoenix spluttered.
“What!” he shouted, taken aback. Edgeworth smirked as Phoenix stared at him, “You thought a stranger had become a lawyer for your sake, how is that not weirder?”
“Fans have done stranger things than that.” he said, shrugging, but kept talking before that could be properly addressed, “And you having been my friend for half a year more than fifteen years ago does nothing to make your decisions less absurd.”
“Is this the thanks I get for saving your life?” Phoenix complained and Edgeworth looked away in that bashful way of his.
“Do not misunderstand, I'm flattered that you remembered me.”
“Unfortunately, I can't say the same.” Phoenix grumbled and Edgeworth shot up to point at him as if they were in court.
“Wha..!? Wright, how would I have possibly known that you were the same person?” he asked incredulously and Phoenix shrugged.
“Larry is still our mutual friend and the dynamic of the three of us is pretty much the same. Also...” Phoenix said, glancing significantly at the keychain on the table.
“Gh..!” Edgeworth exclaimed before visibly trying to collect himself, “W-well, the three of us were hardly the only fans of the Signal Samurai..”
“Well...” Phoenix said and Edgeworth once again pointed at him.
“We were not!” he shouted. Phoenix didn’t manage to stop the laugh bubbling out of his mouth as he scratched the back of his neck.
“Still the same old Edgeworth, huh?” he said, too fondly, and Edgeworth blinked at him. He then blushed slightly and sat down again.
“Well... You are very much the same, too. Still impulsive, stubborn and too idealistic.” he said and Phoenix gave him an unimpressed look. Edgeworth colored further and glanced away, hiding his face behind his bangs, “Still the same caring and empathetic person you’ve always been. You must know I’ve always admired that about you... Phoenix.”
The comeback that Phoenix had been crafting in his head as Edgeworth spoke flew away with the rest of his thoughts, leaving his brain empty except for a happy buzzing sound as he processed Edgeworth’s words. Miles’ words. Miles... He could call him that again? Well, Miles did call Larry by his given name so maybe the same applied to Phoenix now? Still, the way he had said it echoed in Phoenix’s head. It was infused with so much care, like he wanted it to sound absolutely perfect, and Phoenix briefly let himself imagine a future where his first name would drop from Miles’ mouth like it was easy. Casual. Like it was intrinsic to their dynamic. But still, the care and effort Miles had managed to put into something that was pretty easy to pronounce made Phoenix think about the paper cranes that little Miles had failed to fold and that he now, according to Larry, could fold perfectly. He was such a perfectionist and sometimes (often) Phoenix worried about that and wished to see him relax but it was also how Miles showed that he thought something was worth putting effort into and Phoenix was so, so smitten. Miles glanced towards him, expression anxious and getting more so as Phoenix struggled to find any words to say that would show how much Miles meant to him without showing him... Well, how much Miles meant to him.
“I trust you. Miles, I...” he said and trailed off because the next words he was going to say were going to involve ‘love’ and he really couldn’t scare him away now. He just couldn’t risk it. But Miles seemed to get it, at least a little, because he smiled.
“I guess we have something else to thank Larry for.” he said with a put upon sigh and Phoenix groaned.
“Oh, believe me, he’s going to make us thank him if we don’t do it on our own. Even though a lot of this is his fault.”
“It would certainly have made things less frustrating if he had communicated more clearly.” Miles said, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of wine.
“Larry? Communicate clearly?” Phoenix teased and Miles rolled his eyes.
“Like you were much better.”
“What? I told you, at least!” Phoenix protested and Miles smiled, as if he couldn’t stop himself from doing it, as he put down his wine glass.
“I really thought you were telling me that you were trans for another reason.” he laughed and Phoenix was startled into confused laughter as well. Miles’ face seemed to almost shine when it was lit up in joy, beautiful even when he was making fun of Phoenix.
“What, a specific reason?” he asked and Miles crinkled his nose adorably as he suppressed his laughter.
“Yes, well, I believe it is common to do that before ent–...” he started but cut himself off and, strangely, reddened. Suddenly, it seemed very easy for him to not laugh and Phoenix narrowed his eyes at him.
“It’s common to do that before what?” he asked and Miles very visibly froze, like a deer in headlights.
“Ah. Manifestly... Er, patently, before... Well, when one is attempting to become closer to a... friend?” he stammered and it was such a painfully obvious lie that Phoenix wasn’t the slightest bit surprised at the rattling of chains as four locks appeared in front of Miles’ chest. He must have made some kind of face, though, since Miles scowled, “You have that blasted rock, don’t you?”
“I don’t take it out of my pocket.” Phoenix explained apologetically. He didn’t want Miles to think that he had brought it specifically for their dinner in order to interrogate him or something. One of the locks broke as Miles grimaced. Phoenix reached into his pocket and gripped the magatama, holding it out in front of the table in a silent offer to drop it. Miles looked conflicted for a moment before he sighed.
“... Before entering into a romantic relationship with someone.” he said, on his own, and another one of the locks shattered. Phoenix looked away guiltily at the mention of romance and there was an awkward pause when Miles had finished talking. Eventually, Miles spoke again, “About at the same time as when one would let someone know whether one wants children or not?”
Phoenix slowly closed his hand over the magatama and pulled it back to his lap, where he rubbed his thumb over its smooth surface and tried to think. Miles would have told him if he wanted Phoenix to ignore it, right? If there was something he was good at it was being guarded, so he would let Phoenix know if he really wanted him not to figure him out.
“You thought I was going to ask you to be in a romantic relationship with you?” he asked, slowly. Miles’ eyes flickered away again as the third lock disappeared.
“Ah, it... crossed my mind.” he said neutrally. Despite his tone, he definitely had some kind of opinion about that based on the fact that there was a lock remaining. But Phoenix wasn’t sure that he actually wanted to know. If Miles somehow knew that he had a crush on him and was uncomfortable with it, Phoenix didn’t know if he would be able to recover. Wouldn’t it be better if he left it alone, then? But...
He remembered the way that Miles had smiled after he’d told him he was trans. Shyly and yet he had seemed so anticipatory. Like a lovestruck teen who suspected their crush was going to confess to them. Because if he thought that Phoenix was going to ask him out and reacted that way then odds were he was interested, right? And maybe, maybe, the last lock was that. His feelings for Phoenix. But what if they weren’t? And, even if they were, what if Miles didn’t want to confess for whatever reason? Phoenix didn't want to force him into anything. So, then, what could he do? He could just choose to leave it alone but Miles would notice if he did. He didn't know what that would lead to, but Miles would probably be upset no matter if he broke it or not. But if he turned his thinking around, if he could make Miles break it on his own, then maybe..? But that would mean that he would have to confess. His palms were sweaty and his grip on the magatama slippery. He really wasn’t ready. He hadn’t ever been planning on telling him, he was more than content being friends and he wouldn’t want to jeopardize that. So why was he even considering it now?
That became pretty clear when he looked up to see Miles’ gaze fixed to him. He looked... determined, almost. He could have, would have, told Phoenix to stop if he wanted him to. But he had offered up information spontaneously, practically breaking his locks himself. He had wanted them to get to this point, even if he had to grit his teeth and set his face to do so. He wanted them to get to the truth. It was only fair if Phoenix did something to help them reach it too, wasn’t it?
“I want to be in a romantic relationship with you.” he said, finally and the last lock broke as Miles stood up and hurried around the table and bent down towards Phoenix.
“You do.” he said, and it was barely a question but Phoenix still nodded. Miles’ eyes were glimmering.
“Miles...” Phoenix said, barely more than a breath, and watched as his face reddened behind his bangs. He wiped his right hand off on his pants and slowly reached out, careful not to startle him, to tuck one of the bangs behind his ear. It was soft, just like Phoenix remembered from their childhood, and Miles’s ear was burning red when Phoenix brushed against it. He couldn’t bring himself to draw back from Miles’ warmth so his hand hovered uncertainly a few millimetres away from his jaw. Miles tilted his head a little and pushed his cheek into Phoenix’s palm. He was warm and his skin was a little clammy and Phoenix’s chest was flooding with fondness. Miles’ mouth twitched.
“I want that too.” he said and Phoenix felt a little like his heart was going to burst.
I love him.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked before his brain had caught up to his mouth.
“You may.” Miles corrected him and Phoenix shook his head with a smile. He didn’t have time to even lean up before Miles leaned down further and pressed his closed mouth against Phoenix’s. His lips were warm and soft (Miles probably used some ridiculous, expensive foreign brand of lip balm to keep them that way...) and Miles made a noise like he was surprised despite the fact that he had been the one to lean in. Their noses brushed as he took a step closer and Phoenix stretched upwards. His other hand quickly joined his first on Miles’ face as Miles’ fingers wandered up Phoenix’s neck to tangle in the hair at his nape. When he drew back to breathe, eyes opening slowly to meet his, Phoenix rose up from the chair and gently pushed at Miles’ shoulder until his back was to the steady dining table. He watched Miles’ flushed face for any sign of anything as he stepped closer and pressed their chests together. Miles’ lashes fluttered and his eyes were dark and completely focused on Phoenix’s lips. Phoenix’s breath left him in a shaky sigh when Miles wrapped his other arm around his waist and pulled him closer still as he tilted his head and softly closed his eyes, waiting for Phoenix to initiate. Phoenix happily leaned in again and this time Miles opened his mouth. Phoenix gasped involuntarily as he copied him and could feel Miles’ huff of laughter against his skin. They stayed like that for some time, sharing their air while their lips slid against each other, before they once again had to take a break to breathe. Phoenix pressed his forehead to Miles’ to keep him from going too far and traced circles on his cheekbones with his thumbs. He could feel his heart beat where they were pressed close. He hadn’t thought he would get here, ever. And there was still a lot they would have to do to make this whole thing work, but... they could do it together now, couldn’t they?
“So... Do you want children?” Phoenix asked quietly, aiming for a joke. Miles drew away from where their foreheads connected, although his hand traveled further up into Phoenix’s hair. Phoenix shivered.
“Not especially, the strange youths you take under your wing are more than enough for me. I am not opposed, but I’m not sure I am suited for fatherhood.” Miles said as if it was rehearsed, as if he actually thought that was a question he should expect from a first date, and Phoenix smiled so wide that their teeth clacked together softly as he pulled Miles in for another kiss.
“That’s good to know.” he said when they had separated. It came out warm and fond and genuine and Miles just huffed out a breath and leaned in again.