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Edgeworth liked the slender, dark-headed ones the best, and Michael didn't disappoint. He almost regretted that he wouldn't be able to call him back again- it was too much of a liability. Maybe in a few months.
"Will that be all, Mister Edgeworth?" he asked, reclining gracefully next to him.
"You can go," he replied, taking a roll of bills from the nightstand. The boy tried- and failed- to hide his excitement as Edgeworth folded in an extra hundred, but at least he knew enough not to count the money in front of him (that was always, always awkward).
Edgeworth managed to drag himself to the bathroom, somehow, and Michael was gone by the time he had finished.
"Edgeworth?" someone called from downstairs.
Unfortunately, Wright had apparently arrived.
Edgeworth hastily pulled his dressing gown on, walking out to the stairs. "What are you doing here?" he asked, highly annoyed.
"We were supposed to go to dinner," Wright answered, looking up at him, sounding quite hurt. "Remember?"
Shit. "I'm- let me- it's just-" He took a breath. He was blathering. "I'll be down in fifteen minutes."
In the shower, Edgeworth cursed his timing, his memory, Wright, and the shampoo (in that order). He hastily threw on his suit, still tying his cravat as he went downstairs.
"Who was that?" Wright asked as they climbed into his car.
"My nephew," Edgeworth said automatically, his mouth working faster than his brain.
"I thought you only had a niece," he replied, and Edgeworth pretended not to hear him over the car starting.
The next one was blond and cocky, with a certain bad boy air that Edgeworth couldn't decide whether he liked. The German accent was rather off putting at first- Edgeworth was sure that other clients must have loved it, but he'd never found Hessian particularly sexy.
When his mouth was otherwise occupied, however, Edgeworth had no problems.
They hadn't even made it off the couch when the doorbell rang. Wright walked in without waiting to be invited, which was fine, because Edgeworth wasn't quite sure he could walk anyway.
"You left this in my office," Wright said, holding up Edgeworth's briefcase.
"Thank you," he replied, taking it and putting it over his lap, ostensibly to check its contents. "Wright, this is my new paralegal."
"Nice to meet you, Herr Wright," the man said without missing a beat.
"We were just discussing-" Edgeworth's brain suddenly dried up.
"The Luke Atmey case," the blond finished. "Herr Edgeworth was explaining to me the finer points of double jeopardy."
Wright looked between the two of them, his lips pursed, as if he didn't quite buy it. "I guess I'll leave you to it, then," he said, not leaving.
"Thanks for stopping by," Edgeworth managed. Wright took another long look at both of them before turning and leaving.
Edgeworth regarded his companion. "How did you know-"
He laughed. "Who can study law without studying the famous Phoenix Wright? He's a case study in what not to do."
"But-"
"Law school is very expensive, ja?" He took the briefcase out of Edgeworth's unresisting hands, giving him a wicked smile. "And this is so much more fun than filing paperwork."
As he undid the buttons of Edgeworth's pants, the older man made a note to get this one's real name. If he had an assistant who could do that with his tongue, he'd never leave the office again.
Around two the next day, there was a tentative knock on Edgeworth's door.
"I have the evidence list for tomorrow's trial," Wright said when he poked his head in. "I was around, so Gumshoe asked me to bring it up."
Edgeworth waved him in, taking the paper. "Thank you," he said, perusing its contents. No surprises there, thankfully.
Wright lingered across from him, shuffling his feet and looking nervous. "Was there something else?" Edgeworth asked him.
He pretended to be very interested in a paperweight. "So about those guys I saw at your house-"
"I told you," he snapped defensively. "I was entertaining a visiting relative."
"And your paralegal."
"Yes."
"Whom you never mentioned before."
"Yes."
"Whom you were working with at your house."
"Yes."
"Without your briefcase."
"Yes, Wright."
"With an erection."
Edgeworth's blush answered for him.
"If I'd known my old court cases were so exciting," Wright muttered, trailing off. "So, do you go and cruise for guys every night, or did I just pick a bad week?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he replied with a snort. "You know I wouldn't-"
Wright's volume was increasing. "Then how else would-"
"I called for them," he snapped, smacking his hand down on the desk and leaning in towards the other man. "They were prostitutes, Wright. I called them, I slept with them, I gave them money, and I sent them away. Any more questions, or are you done rifling through my personal life?"
The look on Wright's face was priceless, and Edgeworth savored it.
Until he realized what he had just said.
"How often does this happen?" Wright asked, after a long silence.
Edgeworth hugged himself with one arm, looking away. "A few nights a week."
"Do you always have to-"
He rolled his eyes. "If you hadn't noticed, I don't really have the time or the social skills for much else."
"But it's illegal," Wright said, still sounding scandalized and somewhat betrayed.
"Thank you for clearing that up," he snapped. "Now if you're done, I'm very busy at the moment."
As he left, Wright gave him a look he was all too familiar with. It was that awful "I'm going to save you from yourself if it's the last thing I do, dammit" face that he'd gotten from Wright so many times. Edgeworth hoped that, just this once, he'd leave it alone.
He called as soon as he got home. That was probably a bad sign, all things considered; but if there ever was a day that he needed it, it was today.
Edgeworth settled on the couch with a glass of wine, impatiently watching the front door. A full thirty minutes passed before there was a knock.
"Who's there?" Edgeworth asked.
"Here about the stove," a muffled male voice answered, observing the proper protocol.
He wasn't quite the type Edgeworth expected. Usually they were on the flashier side of casual, but this one was in a sweatshirt and jeans, hood pulled up over his head. He kept his face turned away; they'd better not have sent him a shy one. As far as he was concerned, he was paying far too much to deal with anyone being coy.
As he stepped in, Edgeworth reached around him to pull the door shut. "On your knees," he said, keeping him more or less trapped between himself and the front door. It felt so awfully tacky- all the boys from the agency tried hard to maintain the polite fiction that money was a pleasant surprise after a nice evening, and that was right out the window already. He'd have to tip extra to make up for it.
He must not have been too shy, as he didn't hesitate to undo Edgeworth's belt buckle, dropping his pants to his ankles. The young man dropped a kiss on his abdomen before working down Edgeworth's boxer briefs, pulling them down past his knees.
Edgeworth braced himself against the door with hand. He'd had better, certainly, but it had been a very long time since any of the boys had been quite so enthusiastic. He laid a trail of teasing little licks over his head and down his shaft, pausing to lap at the sensitive skin of his balls before working his way back up again. Edgeworth couldn't help bucking his hips forward as the rent boy took his length into his wet, hot mouth, his hands stroking and teasing as he did.
All too quickly, he could feel himself nearing the edge. He momentarily considered what a shame it would be to finish so quickly, but he reconsidered after a particularly clever twist of the man's fingers. There was still plenty of time- and money, he added with only the slightest hint of self-loathing- for more.
To his credit, his partner didn't make a sound when Edgeworth came, just lapped him clean. He took a woozy half step back as the man rose from his knees, trying to think of a polite way to apologize for being so rash. The man pushed back his hood, and Edgeworth's stomach dropped.
Wright leaned back against the door, waiting for Edgeworth to finally formulate a coherent sentence. He lazily swept a finger over the corner of his mouth, catching a stray drop of come and trailing it across his tongue, and Edgeworth suddenly forgot what he had been trying to say in the first place.
"That was incredibly irresponsible," he said finally, having come back to his senses. "You have no idea what you could have gotten yourself into." Wright only met this charge with a raised eyebrow. "I mean it. You have no conception of what kinds of things go on in these situations. You could have gotten yourself into something very bad very quickly."
Wright regarded him with amusement. "Have you forgotten the part where I'm not actually a prostitute?"
"Can you be serious for five minutes?"
He snorted. "Big talk from a guy with no pants on." Edgeworth scowled, bending over to pull up his pants and shorts. "If I wasn't willing to do whatever you wanted," Wright continued, "I wouldn't have come."
That startled Edgeworth so much that he dropped his pants again. He dressed without speaking further, trying to get his thoughts in order, but failing miserably.
After a long pause, he sighed. "Are you hungry?"
Wright looked at him with mild surprise. "Do you usually feed your call boys?"
"It's early, and I haven't eaten," he countered. "It's only polite."
He shook his head. "You are so strange."
"Big talk from the guy posing as a hooker," he shot back. "What did you do with the boy from the agency, anyway?"
"I showed him my badge and told him the house was surrounded," Wright replied, a self-satisfied smile on his face.
The other man rolled his eyes. "Brilliant. Now I’m blacklisted."
"The thanks I get for giving it out for free," he said, with an exaggerated sigh.
Edgeworth frowned. "We need to talk about that."
It was Wright's turn to roll his eyes. "After dinner."
Dinner was incongruously uneventful (except for Wright's protest that, "Dammit, Miles, hookers eat better than I do!"). Wright was first to push away from the table, standing and taking the plates to the kitchen over Edgeworth's protests.
"Now," Wright started, giving him a smile which, Edgeworth had to admit, looked damnably sexy on him. "Where were we?"
"Wright," he said irritably. "We need to talk about this."
The other man shrugged. "What's there to talk about? Seems pretty simple to me."
"Of course it's not simple," Edgeworth said with a put-upon sigh. "Look, Wright, I know you think you have some kind of obligation to help me-"
"Is that really what you think this is about?" he asked incredulously. "Seriously?"
"You found out I had," he considered his words carefully, "a distasteful habit. You appear to be dead set on breaking me of that habit through any means necessary. What other conclusion am I to draw other than you doing this out of obligation?"
Wright gave him a look as if to ask if it was painful to be so dense. "It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that I'm totally head over heels for you and have been wanting to screw you senseless for years."
Edgeworth scowled. "Even if that were true, it would be dishonest of me to sleep with you if I wasn't completely convinced that we were both in agreement regarding what, exactly, that action meant for our relationship." He amended hastily, realizing what he had just said, "Not that we have a relationship at the present moment, which is not to say there might not be one in the future."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I understand why you have to sleep with hookers now. You'd have to be crazy to go through this much torment without getting paid for it."
"I think maybe you'd better just go," Edgeworth said, turning his face away.
Wright moved across the room with a surprising amount of grace. He sat in the chair next to Edgeworth's, taking the other man's chin softly in his hand. "Do you really want me to go, or do you want to come upstairs with me?"
"Yes," Edgeworth sighed before he could catch himself. "I mean, no. I mean, dammit, Wright, that's not a yes-no quest-"
Wright kissed him before he could finish the word, and he couldn't stop himself from responding. It was horribly clichéd, but true nonetheless- none of the men he had hired would let him. He understood completely- even a man reduced to selling his body should be allowed to hold something back for himself- and he had never, ever missed it until this very moment. It felt obscenely intimate (oh god, Wright's tongue was in his mouth) for reasons that Edgeworth couldn't really explain; all he knew is that he wanted more of it, as soon as possible.
It struck him, then: the curious, incredibly attractive thought that Wright was holding back nothing at all.
"Come upstairs with me," Wright said, breaking away, no question in it this time, and Edgeworth could only nod in response.
It occurred to him as they made their way up the stairs (a complicated process, as neither of them seemed to be able to get more than a few steps without attacking the other) that he couldn't actually remember the last time he'd had sex without money being involved. Edgeworth realized, to his slight dismay, that he was actually responsible for whether or not Wright enjoyed it. That should have been a sobering thought; but Wright had discovered a very intriguing place behind his ear, so he let it go.
Despite their best efforts, they fumbled their way into Edgeworth's bedroom, and Wright let himself be pushed down into the mattress. After doing away with most of his clothing, Edgeworth couldn't help just admiring him for a long moment, his hands running over the smooth expanse of his stomach, tracing his fingers down to the waistband of his boxers.
"Any time now," Wright drawled, trying to look as bored as a man with a very prominent erection could look.
"I thought it was my nickel," the other man replied, pulling the thin material over his thighs.
"Keep it up," he countered, pulling Edgeworth's body against his, "and it will be."
Wright protested as his partner broke off, snatching a bottle of lubricant and a condom from on top of the nightstand. "Are you sure you still want to do this?" Edgeworth asked as he prepared them, failing to keep the nervousness out of his voice.
Wright rolled his eyes. "Miles, only you could seriously ask that question with your fingers up someone's ass." Edgeworth pulled his hand away, and the other man glared at him. "Very funny."
"You asked for it, you know," he replied, positioning himself at Wright's entrance.
Whatever witty retort Wright would have had for that was forgotten as Edgeworth pressed forward. He pushed in very slowly, pulling half-way out before doing it again. He searched Wright's face for signs of pain, but he looked far too blissed out to notice. It seemed impossible- he was just too incredibly tight. "Are you-" Edgeworth started to ask, concerned.
"Jesus Christ," Wright sighed, sounding highly annoyed, "don't stop."
Just for that, he drove his hips in harder, pushing all the way in with one hard stroke, and Wright let out the most delicious moan.
He couldn't stop watching Wright as he fucked him, dumbfounded by the whole situation. It was ridiculous that he- someone Edgeworth already owed so much to- would want to do this so badly for him without asking anything in return. Everyone, himself included, had an ulterior motive. The thought that Wright- Phoenix- could possibly want him without one was disturbingly novel and incredibly arousing.
"Mine," Edgeworth all but growled into his ear, surprising the hell out of both of them.
"Say it again," Phoenix breathed, his hands grasping onto the other man's back, urging him closer.
"All mine," he repeated, punctuating the phrase by biting his neck. Phoenix's eyes fluttered shut, and he came, clenching around him harder than Edgeworth thought was possible. A few quick thrusts and he was gone too.
Edgeworth didn't quite know what to do after sex; he couldn't just give Phoenix money and tell him to leave (as tempting as that was some days). For his part, Phoenix seemed intent on being as close as possible, his head resting not uncomfortably on Edgeworth's chest.
"This isn't a magic bullet, Wright," he said, the words slipping easily from his mouth before he really had a chance to think about them.
Phoenix turned his face away, as if to listen to the other man's heartbeat. "Did you know you tense up when you say things you don't think I'm going to like?"
"I need you to be serious," he admonished, sitting up, which only had the effect of dropping Phoenix's head into his lap. "I need to know that you understand that this isn't necessarily going to change anything."
"I know," he replied, not looking up.
Edgeworth's fingers found Phoenix's soft spikes, and he couldn't resist running his fingers through them. "One night of sex- great sex, though it may be- isn't going to suddenly turn me into-"
"A normal, well-adjusted human being?" Phoenix supplied.
He smiled, despite himself. "That may be a little harsher than I was shooting for."
Phoenix rolled over, looking up at him. "Would you maybe be okay with calling it a start?"
He tucked a stray lock of hair behind Phoenix's ear, sighing. Maybe Phoenix was never going to give up trying to save him. But maybe, just this once, he didn't mind being saved after all.
Edgeworth bent over awkwardly to peck him on the lips. "I think I could live with that."