It had been easier than the prosecutor had anticipated to seduce Phoenix's mind into a state of-

Well, it was easier to just describe that particular factor by explaining what exactly was going on after - was it 3? 4? No, it had to have been 5 - glasses of the intoxicating red liquid. Phoenix had started clumsily bumbling about, repeatedly babbling something about how he needed to 'buy some cereal for tomorrow morning' after only the first glass - something which Edgeworth had found himself agreeing with on account of witnessing his crush skip breakfast for 2 days in a row after routinely rummaging through the same cupboard (which was located above the microwave the spiky-haired man had been given by his parents in his kitchen) and finding no source of food. However, as much as the prosecutor may agree with the drunk defence attorney's surprisingly intact common sense, be couldn't help but regret the lack of his own common sense - something which had become apparent as he glanced around the splendidly decorated venue only to be met by various faces of disapproval, pointedly glaring at both him and Phoenix, dotted about.

Oh.

He hadn't thought about how other people would react to his crush being drunk.

He'd been so caught up having such a good time that he'd forgotten they were still even at the convention.

"Phoenix," The prosecutor softly called out to his companion - whom was only a few steps away from him, sluggishly heading towards the front door, probably still in pursuit of the nearest supply of cereal -, deciding that the shorter man wouldn't notice the use of his first name rather than his surname. Bleary-eyed - yet still drop-dead beautiful to Edgeworth -, Phoenix stumbled back on himself whilst trying to swivel around and face the prosecutor, accidentally coming crashing down into the silvery-haired man's arms, hiccuping in his haste to giggle hysterically. Despite the nagging sensation that the pair were completely disrupting the previous serenity of the event, the prosecutor couldn't help but find himself, for the first time, being completely ignorant of his surroundings and behaviour.

Phoenix was in his arms.
Phoenix's head was resting on his chest.
Phoenix was sharing his body-heat with him.
Phoenix was breathing the same air as him.

And Phoenix was going to drive him completely insane unless he stopped being so ridiculously lovestruck and got his act together.

"Ph-" The prosecutor tensed, cautiously glancing around at the sea of intense expressions whose waves were ferociously whipping the pair's predicament, realising that, while Phoenix may not notice the use of his first name, the guests certainly would and - judging by the plethora of raised eyebrows - already had.
"Wright."
"Mm... Why aren't you... Duh... Druh..." A slurred, slightly muffled, voice crept out from the miniature safe-zone that was Edgeworth's chest - in which a rapidly beating heart could be found -, fumbling with a particular syllable. The silvery-haired man didn't know what to do.

He couldn't touch his crush - he wouldn't dare in front of all these people - so that put pushing him away out of the question (not that he was upset about not being able to part with the love of his life), but that also meant that they could be stuck in this position for a long long time.

A very long long time.

So, in light of the circumstances, Edgeworth decided to do what he did best.
"Are you having a spot of trouble there, Wright?"

He teased Phoenix.

"Sh-Shut up.."
"You seem to be stuck to my ches-"
"Drunk!" The defence attorney suddenly jolted upright, swiftly jutting out a leg behind himself for balance, accusatively glaring at the prosecutor.
"Why aren't you... Drunk..?"
"Am I supposed to be?" The prosecutor snapped back, his slight irritation by the fact that his prized possession had left his grasp influencing his impulsive intonation.
"You had... 5 gluh... glah..."
"I see you have trouble with words." The taller man smugly snickered, secretively relishing the sight of his favourite defenceless defence attorney's stuttering make its return - when the two men were younger, Edgeworth would always joke about Phoenix's difficulties with learning and pronouncing simple words (although, of course, these jokes were not spoken with bad intention towards the spiky-haired boy whom he idolised).
"I do not!" The shorter man staggered forwards slightly in a feeble attempt to appear threatening to his verbal assailant - whom merely shrugged off the sight of his best friend precariously balancing upon his tiptoes in an effort to seem taller by letting his eyes linger around the spiky-haired man's-
"Glasses.. You had 5 glasses." Phoenix paused, letting himself down from his tip-toe position, his glassy eyes now accompanied by a blank stare at what appeared to be the bottles of wine;
"Or... was it 4?"
"Wright, has it not occurred to you that I have common sense and that I therefore did not drink 5 glasses. I drank half of 1."
"You use big words." A slurred giggle accompanied an equally laughably simplistic sentence.
"And you're drunk." Phoenix widened his eyes at the latest statement for a brief moment before rolling them;
"Ha ha. Ve... Veh... Very funny,"
"I wasn't joking." The defence attorney heartily laughed again, stumbling over to Edgeworth's side in order to grip one of his broad shoulders - an act which the silvery-haired man had to force himself to ignore for fear of grabbing his crush's, now unbelievably close, waist and kissing him in public.
"I may not... Kno... Know as much as y... You.. But I d... Do know that I'm not dr... Druh... Drunk."
"No, you clearly don't." The individuals surrounding them were probably gawking by now, Edgeworth decided, which, in the prosecutor's mind, justified the arrival of his next sentence;

"Wright, just... Come with me for a moment."