A/N: Finally I write a NaruMitsu story with a happy end. I like happy end better, I think. Like my last story, this one is unbeta'd, but I'm always open to constructive criticism.

It hadn't been raining when they dropped Trucy off at Franziska's house, Miles was sure of that. Nor had it been raining while they dined at Wright's favorite restaurant. Nevertheless, Mother Nature had somehow still found it in herself to literally rain all over Miles's excellent plan to propose to his lover during tonight's predicted meteor shower. It had all been so perfectly arranged. He was going to take Wright out for dinner, then back to the house to pick up wine and a blanket, and finally he was going to drive his boyfriend out to middle of nowhere just to see the look of boyish wonder that Wright would certainly display at a sky full of shooting stars. Then he was going to bring Wright's gaze down - ever so slowly - with light and tender kisses until the other man saw that ring, sparkling like the stars above. And then, had things gone to plan, Miles would speak and tell Phoenix exactly how he felt about him. It was going to be wonderful and perfect and not at all rain-soaked. The small ring box in his pocket felt like a lead weight as he and Wright dashed from awning to awning. It would take months to plan another chance, and by then he'd definitely forget his perfectly planned proposal speech.

Beside him, Phoenix Wright was trying hard not to show how disappointed he really was with the weather. He couldn't let Miles know that he had a lot more planned for this evening than just stargazing. The engagement ring in his pocket tapped against his leg as he ran, reminding him of what a failure tonight was shaping up to be. He had been hoping so hard to propose to Miles under tonight's star shower ever since he had read about in in the newspaper last year. It was just the type of sentimental scene that Miles professed to hate, but secretly loved - much like Phoenix himself, come to think of it. It had taken a long time to save up for that ring, and even longer to build up the courage to present it as evidence of his love, but it would be worth all of it to make Edgeworth his forever. He sighed into the rain, praying he'd get another chance.

Meanwhile, Miles decided to steal a glance at the dark-haired man next to him, Wright looked extremely disappointed. He knew the man had wanted to see the stars - he hadn't shut up about it since last year - but he didn't think he would be this upset. He may not have been the best at cheering people up, but given how distressed Phoenix looked, it seemed important to try. Grabbing Wright by the hand, he pulled him into a deserted side street and kissed him hard on the lips. When he pulled back, he was glad to see that the kiss had at least somewhat of the desired effect. Though Wright still looked fairly upset, faint traces of his usual goofy grin were returning.

"W-What on earth was that for?" Wright asked, sputtering a little.

"For Christ's sake Wright, I know you wanted to see that stars tonight, but please stop making a face as if someone just killed your dog." His words were sharp as always, but at least Wright seemed to calm down a little. Of course, seemed was apparently the keyword.

"You don't understand, Miles. This was going to be special." Phoenix somehow sounded even more upset than he had been, so Miles quickly took both of his hands and pressed a tender kiss to one. Only afterwards did he realize that his kiss landed in the exact spot where he would have placed a ring were this a more weather-cooperative universe. As it was though, all that lay on those fingers was that kiss and the raindrops that had snuck in past the protection of the surrounding buildings.

"I know it was, Wright." Believe me, it was going to be far more special than you know, Miles thought. He continued, "But there isn't much we can do for it now. Let's just go home and relax. We'll see the next meteor shower together." He had tried to shape his voice into something placating and soothing, but it didn't seem to work very well. For one thing, Wright now looked even more upset.

"And just when will that be?" He asked anxiously.

"I believe the paper said in 7 years." Miles replied, clearly nonplussed. At this, Phoenix positively blanched.

"There's no way I can wait that long!" He cried, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

Really, thought Miles, Wright is getting far too upset over this. It's not like he knew what I had planned for us. Deciding to attempt to mollify the situation which he had apparently made worse, he stepped forward to grab his lover's arm. Unfortunately, Phoenix chose that precise moment to turn to leave the alleyway. The result of this was that they both went tumbling in a tangle of limbs straight into a puddle. Shivering, they helped each other up and assessed their injuries. Though they were now even more soaked (which Miles had hitherto thought impossible), at least neither of them appeared to be more than a bit banged up.

But now Miles was truly miserable. His plan for the evening was a literal wash and now he was wet, cold, bruised, and possibly bleeding. Even the way his empty pockets clung to his legs made him feel disgusting. Wait... empty pockets? Panicked, he dropped back to the ground to search for the ring, unable to spare a thought for the fact that Wright was doing the same beside him. He found the small box fairly quickly, though something seemed off about it. For one, had it always been this shade of royal blue? Miles was fairly sure that the box he had selected at the jeweler's had a far more elegant magenta hue. Perhaps it was just the fact that the box was wet from the fall into the puddle that made it appear blue.

Turing surreptitiously so that Phoenix wouldn't see, he opened the box to ensure that the ring was unscathed. The fabric surrounding it was a bit damp, but the white gold ring itself was unharmed. Or so he thought at first, but upon looking closer he discovered what appeared to be a scratch on the inside. He had initially passed it off as the inscription he'd had made, but the shape was too different. Removing the ring carefully, he tilted it towards a nearby streetlamp. It turned out that the mark was in fact the ring's engraving, but instead of Miles's carefully chosen inscription of the date the two had first met, there were merely two letters in a tastefully decorative script: P and M. Two thoughts immediately struck Miles. The first was that this was not his ring, and the second was that he had seen something which he was definitely not supposed to have yet seen. Turning quickly to face Wright, he couldn't help but notice that the other man was also holding a small ring box. More specifically, he was holding a wine-red ring box. Miles felt the color drain from his face.

"Don't look at that!" he half-shouted.

"It's a bit late for that," Wright replied, looking down and sheepishly throwing his hand behind his head as he was wont to do. "I'm guessing you already saw mine then." When Miles just looked down silently, he continued. "Guess we should trade back?" Miles hurriedly exchanged the blue box in his hand for the red one in Phoenix's. An incredibly awkward silence descended as they both tried to wrap their heads around what this meant and to think of what to do. Miles decided to break that silence.

"To hell with this," he said, sinking to one knee.

"You can't be serious, Edgeworth," Phoenix said, his face a picture of incredulity.

"I can and I am. If I don't do it now, it's just going to hang over our heads. Now shut up and enjoy being proposed to." And thankfully Wright did shut up, which was good because Miles was completely certain that continued objections would have destroyed his newfound nerve. But as it was, he somehow found the courage to grab the other man's hand and gaze into his eyes. Even such commonplace expressions of love took extreme courage in this harsh environment. His perfectly planned speech was completely gone, no choice but to throw himself on the good graces of fortune.

"Wrig– Phoenix," well, off to a smashing start. "We've been together for some time now, and I confess to having grown rather fond of you." Few were the times when Miles wished he could be more like Phoenix, but right now he was sincerely jealous of the other man's ability to speak informally and romantically without feeling like a total fool. Taking a deep breath to steel himself against the oncoming onslaught of sentimentality, he tried again. "No," he said hesitantly, "It's more than that. I love you, Phoenix Wright. I love everything about you. I even love the way you blindly bluff your way through every, single trial."

"Oh gee, thanks Edgeworth," interjected Phoenix, rolling his eyes. "I'm remembering that for the next time you scold me over that."

"I obviously meant it as metaphorical shorthand for loving your quirks," Miles replied equally petulantly. "Now stop interrupting and let me finish before my foot freezes off." Satisfied that Phoenix was finally done objecting, he continued.

"You picked me back up when I was at my lowest point and you literally saved my life. For that, I owe you everything. A life without you is simply not a life I wish to live. Based on today's events, I think we both know how you're going to answer, but I am still compelled to ask. Phoenix Wright, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?" Miles's voice had become uncomfortably tight despite the short length of his speech, and he was horrified to feel something that might be tears prickling behind his eyelids. His only comfort was that Wright seemed to be similarly afflicted; diverting his gaze the moment Miles tried to catch it. The ring was halfway out of the box before Wright finally spoke.

"No." he said quietly. Miles froze, ring halfway from the box to his lover's hand. For a long moment, all he could do was blink.

"Wait… what?" he replied intelligently.

"Not until I get a chance too," Wright said, pulling Miles up before kneeling himself.

"Surely," Miles replied, "Surely you're joking."

"Am not, and don't call me Shirley." He paused for comedic effect, but Miles only sighed impatiently in response. "Besides," he continued, apparently undaunted, "you had a turn; it's only fair that I get one too."

"I'm sorry," Miles responded, "I was under the impression that you were 30 years old, not 3. Have you completely forgotten that it's pouring rain and freezing cold?"

"It's not so bad back in here. And think of the stories we'll be able to tell our future children, 'Papa Miles and I proposed to each other in the driving rain, just like in Casablanca.'"

Miles sighed in exasperation and began tapping his finger against his upper arm impatiently. "Firstly, have you ever even seen Casablanca? Because you could not be more wrong if you tried. Secondly, what is this 'future children' business? We already have a child."

"Exactly! And she's going to want to hear everything when she gets home. I really don't want to tell her about how you got the super-romantic setting, but I had to wait until we got home. Come on Miles, please?" This was very obviously an unwinnable battle, so Miles decided to retain what little dignity remained to his sopping wet person and thrust his hand forward.

"Very well," he sighed, defeated. Phoenix beamed.

"Miles," he began. "Ever since we were kids, I've known you were the one for me. As we grew, I tried to bury those feelings because I was so sure they would never be returned. The happiest day of my life by far was the day I found out that you did return those feelings." When Phoenix stopped to clear his obviously tear-obstructed throat, Miles found himself wondering vaguely when exactly a drunken 3 AM confession/impromptu make-out session had been turned into 'the happiest day of Phoenix's life by far.'

"And you've never stopped loving me. Not when I randomly brought home a daughter. Not when I lost my attorney's badge. Not even when I tried to push you away. Hell, I'm sure you love me now, even though I'm making you stand in the cold rain through a self-referential speech."

"I do, but I can't promise how long it'll last if you keep that last one up," Miles said with a slight laugh.

"Ha-ha, how witty," Phoenix deadpanned right back. "At any rate, I just can't imagine myself without you. As a great man once said, 'A life without you is simply not a life I wish to live.'"

"Hold it!" Miles cried, "Don't you dare steal lines from my proposal to use in your own!" Phoenix just smiled.

"If you're quite finished…" When Miles made no further objections, he continued, "I believe it was Plato who said 'Stop interrupting and let me finish before my foot freezes off.'" Miles couldn't suppress a childish grumble at that, but he ultimately decided to let it slide.

"Miles Edgeworth," Phoenix breathed softly, taking his hand and fixing him with a stare that made his normally firm knees suddenly very weak. "Will you marry me?"

A million and one smart-ass remarks immediately occurred to Miles, but there was really only one answer that he felt right in giving. "Yes, Phoenix, of course." He could barely raise his voice above a whisper, but Phoenix apparently understood. There was a moment of doubt and hesitation as he considered the somewhat alien sensation of metal wrapped around his finger. There was no going back now, though he realized he wouldn't, even if he could. Smiling broadly, he helped his future husband up.

"May I finish what I started now?" Miles asked with mock indignation.

"If you must," replied Phoenix, sticking out his hand and heaving a melodramatic sigh.

As he took Phoenix's hand, Miles' heart pounded in his ears. Vision after vision of him dropping the ring into the storm drain flitted through his head. 'Christ,' he thought, 'how did Wright make it look so easy?'

Yet the world didn't end as the ring slipped silently onto Wright's waiting finger. There was no explosion, no earthquake, not even a break in the rain. In fact, nothing happened at all for a moment. And then Phoenix grabbed Miles roughly by the waist, pulling him into a close embrace. Taking advantage of his lover's shocked gasp and being suddenly pulled in, Phoenix smashed their mouths together and sent his tongue into the well-explored caverns of Miles' mouth. It took a beat for him to realize what was happening, but then he was pressing back again Wright just as hard and interlocking their tongues with yet greater force. Though Miles was still ice-cold from the rain and the puddle, the warmth of the kiss and the heat radiating from the other man was more than enough to keep him from going totally frigid. When they finally parted for breath, it was Phoenix who spoke first.

"Know what, Miles? I put the ring on you first. Know what that means?" he murmured while their foreheads were still pressed together.

"No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me," Miles sighed.

Phoenix drew himself fully out of the embrace, as if to make a grand pronouncement.

"It means…" he paused dramatically.

"That at our wedding…" he paused again, causing Miles to resume his earlier finger tapping.

"You wear the dress!" And with a laugh, he bolted out of the alleyway. Miles sighed just once before dashing out after his perfectly stupid future husband.

Endnotes: Yay for weddings! They are a very cute couple, I think! I have always wanted to be proposed to under a meteor shower so that's where that comes from. I have also always wanted to use "Don't call me Shirley" in real life too, but I never get a chance, so I give it to Phoenix because writer's prerogative! Hooray!

Maybe someday I'll write the wedding (Lie).