Edgeworth, stop.

Edgeworth, you really need to stop right now.

Miles Edgeworth if you do not stop this tomfoolery right this second you are going to-

Initiate something.

That was what his mind had been telling him to do.

To initiate something. To get something more out of this defence attorney's visit.

And Miles Edgeworth, despite his meticulous calculations and planning, had somehow managed to exceed even his own expectations with the forthcoming events.

"Edgeworsh," Phoenix whispered breathily up at his companion, locking those wide, glistening blue eyes with the prosecutor whose chest his head remained resting on.

How had this happened again? The silvery-haired man gazed back down at the dreamlike image of Phoenix before him, with his cheeks flushed a delectable shade of pink and his silky-black hair messily strewn upon the silky dark grey fabric of his waistcoat. The prosecutor's inquisitive eyes flitted over to the shorter man's smallish, rosy-lipped, mouth, feeling himself twitch with anticipation as he noticed how those smooth lips, those smooth, kissable, lips that held all of the intelligence, all of the months of sharing packed-lunches, all of the years of admitting to frantic last-minute revision for tests at law-school, were slightly parted; short, quick-paced breaths emerged from them and the prosecutor was sure that the shorter man's heart must have been thumping as rapidly as his own - regardless of its intoxicated state.

"Phoenix.." The taller man flitted his glittering silver eyes to focus on the opposing, shimmering, blue ones again - pleasantly surprised to find that their pupils were equally dilated;
"Ej... Ed.. Edgeworth, I think I..." Edgeworth widened his method of vision, as he found his favourite person in the world to be tearing up upon his very lap, those gorgeous, ocean-blue eyes' never ending beauty spilling over into glistening droplets of what could only be described as the evidence of years and years of strain - years that went far further, ran far deeper, than those of the lips' connotations - and the continuous babble of the television became less than a hum.
"Phoenix, I... I feel the same way," The prosecutor carefully cupped his companion's chin in his hand, tilting the shorter man's head upwards to meet his gaze again after it seemed to have lead itself astray during the misery. An awkward pause as both men straggled across the desolate soundscape of the prosecutor's living room, surrounded by nothing but useless white noise before Edgeworth decided to grasp the initiative with both hands, hold it as tightly as he could and, if his heart had been fluttering before, then it was certainly racing now.
"I love you, Phoenix.." When there was no response, he hastily added:
"I always have and I always will."

That was the moment that Phoenix Wright's lips curved upwards in a way that put every single star in the entire galaxy, every constellation, every ocean, every beautiful individual on social media to shame. And it didn't matter that Phoenix Wright was drunk, because no great politician, judge or jury could convince Edgeworth that that smile had been sophistic. Tears held hands and danced with the light.
"I love you too, Edgeworth." And that was enough.

Two faces tentatively neared each other, in a similar way to that of a gravitational pull, both having half-lidded eyes in their possession - an experimental affair with a faint crimson tint upon pale canvases. No words were spoken - nothing so unnecessary as enslaving sound waves was required - for it was all an intuitive occurrence, like the natural tendencies of plants to grow towards light. Light, dancing breaths upon the other's cheek and then their lips as they closed in, eyes now fluttering shut, one inclining left, the other to the right as the warmth enveloped them in its richness, in its clarity, for all was clear now and all was out in the open. The vulnerability of the situation, Edgeworth ruminated as their tongues intertwined in an instinctive manner, was what made it so personal; both men had opened themselves up to each other many a time before and shown their true colours, but neither had exposed themselves quite like this, in broad daylight, with their ignorance positively blooming. That had been the issue, hadn't it? Being men of the law, Phoenix fondly hummed into the kiss as the prosecutor tenderly ran his fingers through his knotty birds' nest of hair, had meant that both individuals had been too clever, Edgeworth smiled back into the joint act that they were engaging in as he felt the defence attorney gently shifting himself into a more comfortable position on his lap, too deceptive, both men's pale cheeks were dusted by a warm glow as Edgeworth cautiously wrapped an arm around his (best friend? Lover?)'s waist, and too sensible to engage in any sort of relationship that meant more than bitter remarks flung at each other from opposite sides of a confined space - a space where neither could find solace or privacy from the public eye - but perhaps it was finally time for long-anticipated adaptation to maintain centre-stage. Tangling tongues with that warm, radiant, smile felt so much better than the escape of the prosecutor's pitiful imagination which had, on many a previous occasion, planted falsified realities which did nothing but continue to grow - far removed from the dazzlingly vibrant truth, the true beauty of Phoenix Wright, the sudden giggling of whom caused their united motions to briefly cease;
"What's funny?"
"Poy... Poh.. Pointy nose," The defence attorney erupted into a cacophony of laughter that would have, if it were not directed at him, made Edgeworth's heart melt.
"Pointy nose?" The silvery-haired man paused his movements for a brief moment, instead self-consciously fingering the tip of the offending article.
"I do not have a pointy nose!" Edgeworth exclaimed matter-of-factly, swiftly sealing the other's lips shut once again before any other ego-damaging remarks could be made.

The cacophony of low, throaty, grunts received in response pleased the taller man to no end, almost fully healing any injuries made to his pride.

Did Phoenix really think he had a pointy nose?

What if Phoenix thought he was repulsive?

No, don't be ridiculous, Edgeworth. Phoenix wouldn't let himself be royally done on the lips by someone with an angular nose - even if he was drunk. Although-

The prosecutor's train-wreckage of thought was abruptly taken out with the trash as he found his infamous cravat - which, to his greatest displeasure, Detective Gumshoe had lovingly described as being 'layered like some sort of cake' before Edgeworth lovingly lowered his salary in return - being tugged on, another slurred reply entering his ears, being uttered from somewhere beneath him accompanied by a small, smug, grin;
"You doo,"
"What?"
"Have a p... Pointy... No... Now... Nose," The shorter man giggled childishly, his rosy lips upturned into an irritatingly adorable smile and his overall expression encompassing something fond - something that encompassed his charisma, his gigantic, dopey, heart and those stupidly doting puppy-dog eyes - something that Edgeworth just wished that he could stop being so damned lovesick over so that he could discipline this insulting little man.

Although, in all his years of stalk- watching over this young man, he'd never witnessed him give anyone the gorgeous, sincere and truly open look that he was receiving before - and that gave Edgeworth a wave of reality, a sense of accomplishment.

He had a chance with Phoenix Wright after all.