Wandering into the kitchen, he pulled a cold can of beer from the fridge and cracked it open, gulping down several mouthfuls at once. It failed to make him feel better and in fact the ice-cold liquid sent a shooting pain into his head that reminded him he had also been unable to pay his dentist's bill this month. Childishly, and somewhat petulantly, he kicked the refrigerator door, adding another dint to the array that already marred it.
"How very mature."
Phoenix almost choked on a swig of beer and turned to see Miles Edgeworth leaning nonchalantly against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed and wearing nothing but a pair of loose pyjama bottoms. The prosecutor looked typically smug.
"Don't creep up on me like that, Edgeworth," Phoenix was openly irritable. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"Wright, I don't 'creep', as you so delightfully put it. I just have more grace than the average elephant … unlike some people. And I'm here because you gave me a key." He didn't look in the least bit put out, which was mildly annoying.
"Whatever." Phoenix couldn't be bothered to engage in verbal sparring after a day like he'd just had, even if that sparring did involve Edgeworth in a rare state of half-undress.
He turned back to the refrigerator and feigned an interest in one of Maya's Steel Samurai magnets on the door.
He was hoping Edgeworth had taken the hint when he felt hands resting lightly on his shoulders. "Bad day?" The prosecutor sounded more sympathetic now.
"You could say that."
Edgeworth's hands tightened on his shoulders and he felt thumbs exploring the knots of muscle at the back of his neck. "You're very tense." It was a statement of fact, but Phoenix bristled slightly.
"Yeah. And I have a headache too, so don't get any ideas."
Edgeworth laughed, and despite his tiredness the sound of it cheered Phoenix slightly. The prosecutor so rarely laughed, even now, that it was something to be treasured whenever it happened.
"I think I can help with that," Edgeworth said, matter-of-factly.
"I told you Edgeworth, I'm not in the mood for any funny business."
He didn't see it, but Phoenix could swear that he was able to hear the sound of the prosecutor's eyebrow arching. The hands on his shoulders retreated.
"Would you consider a massage to be 'funny business'?"
Phoenix considered that, as he turned to face the other man. "That depends."
"'I'll keep my clothes on. But you'll have to take yours off."
"You're hardly wearing any clothes to keep on," Phoenix pointed out. "But that does sound good," he had to admit, as the throbbing in his head and neck reasserted itself.
--
Half an hour later, after another beer and a hot shower, Phoenix lay face down on the bed, naked and with his head pillowed on his folded arms. "I hope you know what you're doing."
In answer, Edgeworth leaned over and kissed him, very lightly, on the back of his neck. "It's been a while … but I've had a lot of practice. Now just relax," he whispered, and the soft, air-touch of his breath made Phoenix's skin tingle.
A light scent of citrus coincided with the shock of something cold dripping gently on to his back, but before Phoenix could complain about the temperature of the oil he felt warm hands gliding up gently but firmly either side of his spine in long, soothing strokes, and whatever he was going to say died on his lips as he closed his eyes and submitted to the touch.
Phoenix was still becoming accustomed to the feel of a man's hands on his body. It had been an odd sensation, at first - a world away from the light, butterfly touches of the girls he'd dated in college. Edgeworth's hands were large, strong and powerful - but at the same time they were perfectly soft, as soft as any woman's. Phoenix doubted the prosecutor had ever done even an hour of manual work in his life and he knew damn well that the man kept hand lotion in his bathroom cabinet at home, because he'd looked.
But however it had come about, it was an extremely sexy combination, and Phoenix let his mind drift pleasantly onto memories of other occasions when he'd felt those hands on him, while Edgeworth went to work on his shoulders and neck. He murmured with pleasure as strong fingers dug into the knots of muscle that had built up in the course of the day, before moving down to his legs and gently kneading away the aches of the rush hour commute.
The room was almost dark, the only light provided by the neon signage from the street outside, and his headache started to subside as a distinct feeling of sleepiness washed over him.
"Feeling better?" Edgeworth's voice against his ear pulled Phoenix back to reality from a half-doze and he sighed.
"I am, actually."
"Good. Time to turn over."
Phoenix groaned. "Do I have to? I'm kind of comfortable."
"Well," Edgeworth sounded amused. "You don't have to, but it'll be awkward to massage your chest while you're lying on it."
With a rather over-dramatic sigh, Phoenix rolled over gracelessly, putting his hands behind his head and attempting to look put out. It didn't work.
This time the cold dripping of the oil felt rather pleasant, and Phoenix squirmed slightly, curled his toes, and closed his eyes against it, feeling rather than hearing a soft breath of laughter from Edgeworth at his reaction.
When he opened his eyes again Edgeworth was leaning over him slightly, gently caressing his chest with firm but measured movements of his hands. He was utterly absorbed in his task, grey hair hanging down so as to partly obscure his face, but with a distinct air of concentration in the set of his jaw.
Phoenix found it surprisingly erotic, just lying there and watching someone so carefully and deliberately touching him. It was a completely new experience, and now he found himself not really wanting it to end. He became fascinated with the smallest movements of Edgeworth's body as he worked - the way his eyes narrowed slightly when he focussed on a particular spot, the way the muscles moved under the skin of his upper arm, and the small smile that was never far from his lips the whole time, as if this were as enjoyable for him as it was for the defence attorney.
Phoenix's own mouth was a little dry as he contemplated the impossibly broad shoulders and muscular chest that were in his line of sight. Christ, he's hot. I don't think I've ever properly looked at him before.
As Edgeworth's hands strayed down to his legs, brushing lightly over his groin in passing, Phoenix couldn't hold back a soft moan. Soft palms circled on the insides of his thighs and he could feel his cock hardening far too rapidly in response. He closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to think of something else entirely, but he knew it wasn't going to work, especially when the prosecutor continued the downward movement and started to gently put pressure on the soles of his feet with his thumbs. Ohhhhh. God that feels way too good.
"Edgeworth … I think …" his voice was barely more than a croak.
The hands stopped moving on his legs and he felt hair brush his face. "I told you to relax, Wright."
"But ..." Anything else he was going to say was lost, as Edgeworth leaned down and kissed him, gently but insistently, and Phoenix felt fingertips trail lightly up the underside of his cock before a hand gripped it firmly.
"Mmph!" Phoenix's eyes widened and he gripped Edgeworth's shoulder in reaction to the sudden and unexpected rush of pleasure. Phoenix pulled away briefly - he was dimly aware that Edgeworth was smiling, and that his lips were still parted in a smile when they kissed again. When the prosecutor's hand started to move in gentle but rapid strokes along Phoenix's length, the depth and intensity of the sensations it produced in his body took the defence attorney by surprise. Phoenix tried to extract himself from the kiss again for long enough to warn Edgeworth, but it was too late, as the fiery pleasure of climax flooded through and over him. His body shuddered and he pulled away from the bed, his grip on the prosecutor's shoulder tightening convulsively. He felt Edgeworth's free hand supporting his neck as he cried out, before his voice was muffled by another deep kiss.
Afterwards, Phoenix lay there weakly, completely relaxed and completely exhausted, while Edgeworth towelled him down and wiped his own hands. Then, the prosecutor crawled onto the bed next to Phoenix and pulled the quilt over both of them. The last thing Phoenix remembered before sleep overcame him was Edgeworth's head nestled into his neck, Edgeworth's arm resting lightly on his chest and an overwhelmingly blissful sensation of warmth and security.