[RL 18: In Your Dreams; Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright]

[samuraiprosecutor]

The night was still early; Edgeworth didn't need the clock at the bottom of his computer screen to tell him that, and it would offer him no insight into the real question (i.e. 'Why does nine pm suddenly feel like three am?'). He cast a baleful look on his cooled, half-empty cup of tea, wondering if perhaps it was time for a third.

The presence at his home office door went unnoticed at first. By the time his visitor was noticed, in fact, he had already been treated to Edgeworth's spirited sifting through the two neat piles of paperwork on his desk, a rub at the bridge of his nose, and a weary sigh.

After the visitor was noticed, he was treated to a hardened gaze. "How long have you been there?"

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[attorneyatlol]

Phoenix smiled, almost sadly, as his hands traveled outward once more and then down, past the sides of Edgeworth's neck, ceasing at his collarbone. For a moment he concentrated his efforts there before finally leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the other man. He placed a light, lingering kiss against Edgeworth's temple and nuzzled the hair above his ear. "Come watch a movie with me," he whispered.

[samuraiprosecutor]

Miles started at the embrace, but almost immediately he sank into it, cursing himself for a fool. Almost as an afterthought he cursed Wright for his seemingly effortless ability to manipulate him; cursed Wright for his warmth, his touch, his voice.

The flashing cursor on his computer screen beckoned, stubbornly held his attention. There was still work to be done. Maybe... He would be done soon. It wouldn't take much longer to finish up; then he'd allow Wright to cajole him into spending the rest of the night on the couch with a movie of his choice, a glass of wine, and Wright reciting actors' lines beside him. Just a bit longer...

***

Waking was sudden, and accompanied by heavy breathing and a mad grab at the empty sheets on the other side of the bed. The warmth was gone, the bedroom chilly. An ache flared briefly in his chest, and images he desperately wished he could unsee scrolled through his mind's eye. From the corner of the room he could hear Sigi's fur rustle as the dog lifted his head to whine softly and stare curiously at his master.

Miles didn't respond. He laid silently back on the bed, brows furrowed and gaze fixed on the black sky outside the balcony doors, until the sky bled into a red-orange sunrise and the raucous cry of his alarm filled the room.