Author's note: You see, this is why I don't write smut… I suck at it, I really do. Anyways, this is a gift to my home-girl; her birthday is today. So, if she's reading this—Cheers Mate!

Oh, and to clear anything up; this is PWP, if I didn't address it, it never happened.

Summary: After losing his car in the 'Lana Skye' case; Miles thinks that it is high-time that he replace it with a new, more ostentatious model. And what better than to let his good pal; Phoenix Wright, be the first one to take it for a ride?

"—Oh, holy red mustang! I christen thee!" Phoenix jokes, as he slides into the passenger seat of the expensive vehicle. There's a cheeky grin on his face, and a childishly amused look in his eye that says; 'Hey! I've never been in this kind of luxury car, before!'

And while normally, Miles couldn't get enough of that youthful, nerdy energy, that the other man exuded on the regular bases—right now… right now, he wants to stab Phoenix in the chest with a box-cutter. The box-cutter in his left hand, to be exact. "Will you shut up?" He snapped, while rubbing his throbbing temples. "You haven't stopped making jokes, since we left the dealership."

Phoenix let out a nervous chuckle, before slouching in his seat. "If I know one thing for certain, you never stopped being a buzz-kill." No sooner than when he mumbled that, the spikey haired attorney found himself ducking out of the way of an empty Styrofoam cup. When the cup smacked against the window; little speckles of hot espresso splashed against the glass. "Hey, watch it!" He exclaimed, gaping at the little stems of steam. Phoenix frowned, worry lines making themselves known at the corner of his mouth. "Are you turning to burn me?—" Checking himself for traces of the brown liquid, he sighed. "—or do you want to ruin your 'precious' car, already?"

Miles responded with a jerk of the steering wheel, and a growl, "I said shut up. Do I have to spell it out for you? Are you that thoughtless? S-H-U-T U-P! Cease your mindless banter. Hush your mouth. Shut your trap. Seal your lips—" Before he could finish his ranting, Miles found his head being jerked to the right, and a pair of warm lips were pressed against his own. "—HMPHM!"

The kiss lasted no longer than four seconds, before Miles jerked away violently, and smacked Phoenix hard in the face. "What was that? What the hell is wrong with you!" Fuming furiously, the prosecutor turned his incensed glare unto the winding road ahead.

"Ow…" Phoenix hissed, as he gingerly rubbed his face. "I was being romantic— spontaneous..." Pausing to sigh in embarrassment, he continued, "You know—like that character from those cheesy Romance Novels, you love to read." Once again, the brunette found himself ducking; though this time, it was to avoid the box-cutter that previously lay forgotten on the dashboard.

Burning hotter than an oven set on broil, Miles ran a light, just as it flashed from cautionary yellow to red. "Idiot! They're not Romance Novels, and—ugh! That's not the point! Do not do foolish stuff like that, when we're outside!"

"What's the point of being together, if—" Phoenix let his fingers dance up Miles' rose colored sleeve; from the crease of the elbow, to the seam on the shoulder."—I can't kiss you?" When the other man didn't respond, Phoenix let his hand drop onto his lap. "We've gotten over you being ashamed of us, and yet… You still don't let me do these things in public." Squeezing Miles' tense thigh, he sighed thoughtfully. "I guess I'll just ask Ema, if she wants to go out with me, to that charming little café near the Police Station."

Judging by the low, terrifying growl that rumbled in Miles' throat; he didn't like that idea at all. Then again, there were a lot of things that the great Miles Edgeworth didn't like—Ema being in the top five. The top three, if the ravenette was having a bad day.

It's not that she was a bad person; actually it was quite the opposite. She was nice, caring, beautiful, and she was well-versed in several subjects. (Though, none of that was enough to keep her from being a little air-headed) It was just that she was a nuisance; and a persistent one at that… It didn't help that she was infatuated with both him, and Phoenix; two people who were clearly out of her league.

The other day, when the chocolate-haired girl had made a harmless joke about being the new-future Mrs. Edgeworth; Miles had let out a strangled gasp, and made a face as if she had personally offended him, and everyone in the room.

When Phoenix had asked about it, Miles gave an icy reply, "Her arrogance is un-becoming… I hope she learns to be less juvenile when she grows up, or else she will make for a useless prosecutor."

With that memory in mind, Phoenix sighed loudly. The joke had long since dissipated into the thick, tension filled air around them, and the spikey-haired man found himself fidgeting with the leg of his cobalt-colored trousers. "Why did I say that, of all things?" While he was too busy freaking out on the inside, he didn't notice that they had pulled into a vacant lot. It wasn't until he heard the engine die down, and the sound of Miles' seatbelt unclasping, did he realize what was going on.

Swallowing hard, he noticed that the ravenette had produced a knife from the glove-compartment. "Where the hell did that come from! He just got this car, today!" Was the thought on Phoenix's mind, though he opted to say—"W-Wait!" Shifting towards the door, he held his arms out in front of himself.

"—If you kill me… who will defend you in court?" While now was definitely NOT the time for jokes, that's the only thing he could think to say. After all, he did compare his haughty, prideful, lover's company to that of an annoying sixteen year old girl.

As Miles began to move around in his seat, Phoenix attempted to relocate the Box-cutter that had fallen between his own seat, and the door. After feeling around for a few seconds with no luck, his mind screamed- "FUCK!"-at him.

Suddenly, before Phoenix had any time to blink, there was a cold steel blade pressing lightly against his face. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you, and I'll get away with it."

Phoenix blinked, clearly nonplussed, before he nodded his head at the blatant thread. "Tell anyone? About what?" Just as he thought that, he was surprised by Miles sliding his seat back a few inches. "Ah!" He yelped at the unexpected jerk.

What was the other man planning? He hadn't the slightest clue… That is, until Miles stripped off his own jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt; revealing an expanse of flawless, alabaster skin.

Phoenix felt his face heat up and redden, as his hand was taken by his disgruntled paramour and pushed against his uncovered chest; right over his fluttering heart. It was romantic, it was cheesy, but it also made Phoenix incredibly hard.

The thought that Miles Edgeworth (the demon Prosecutor) was afraid of a little play-time was outright ridiculous! Then again, he was never all that bold whenever it came to the two of them getting intimate. The only thing he did was bark out orders, but only ever when he was close to climaxing.

Lost in his thoughts, Phoenix didn't notice that Miles' had somehow managed to wiggle out of his slacks in the tight confines of the car… It wasn't until he felt the other man climb onto his lap, did he realize that maybe… no, definitely—they were going to really do it outside the comfort of their homes. (—and offices)

"This is what you wanted, right?" Miles growled, while grinding against Phoenix's obvious erection. "You wanted to make me infuriated enough, so that I would feel the need to do this to you?" Leaning forward, so that he could loosen, and remove Phoenix's tacky red tie, Miles hissed into his ear.

"Well, Wright… I will have you know that I feel no shame in us. I just don't feel as though I need to be an exhibitionist to make my affection clear." Catching the lobe between his teeth, he began to suck, and bite; and do everything in his power to torture the man beneath him. "If we don't get this done right, I'll be harder on you, later on…"

"Hah…" Phoenix panted, as his suit jacket, and dress-shirt were ripped open and left hanging on his broad shoulders. "Uhnn… M-Miles!" He hissed, when he felt that talented tongue tease his nipple until it was red, and erect. And as much as he tried to silence those indignant little noises that he kept on making, he was completely caught off guard by the hand that snaked into his trousers, and began to feverishly stroke his phallus.

"Fuck!" Rocking his hips up in time with the thrust, he completely lost himself to the sensation… And for that; he lost the sensation all together. "—Uh, what? Miles… Why'd you stop?" Although, the expression on his face was dazed-looking, his voice sounded guttural, and oh-so-sexy. Opening his eyes, which he didn't even remember closing; he looked up to see the flustered look on Miles' face.

He looked like the text-book virgin; face red, gaze adverted, bottom lip trembling. "—oh, my god! He's probably never jacked someone off before…!" Phoenix gaped in shock, and minor fascination. "-And here he is, mostly naked, and—Oh, god! This is probably a completely new thing for him!" Thinking on that, the theory isn't all that strange. Miles wasn't a very curious child, not to mention that he was always working to become the thing he is today. He's probably only ever touched himself, and even with that, it could've been a one-time thing.

And even despite their many hook-ups, and random office sex—they hadn't been together for that long, and Phoenix had always did the pleasuring. Not wanting to think any more on the subject, he sighed. "We really should be heading back…" After seeing Miles in this new light, it just made the whole situation awkward—extremely awkward.

Picking up on Phoenix's unease, Miles' blinked bewilderedly. "W-What! What are you talking about, Wright!" Even the way he said his name was making Phoenix feel uncomfortable. "Wright!" Smacking the Attorney—with his clean hand, mind you—he hissed.

"Ow! What?" Phoenix hissed, as he rubbed his face. He was sure his cheek would be bruised, after this whole endeavor. "Why did you slap me?"

"Why did you seize up like that?" Miles snapped.

"Why did you stop?" Phoenix countered.

Miles hesitated before saying. "I-I don't know… I'm not used to this."

There was a long pause, and the air grew heavy (well, heavier than before). "Yeah… I had a feeling that was so." With that, they both redirected their gaze to the window still stained with espresso. "Then… Why did you feel it necessary to do that? Have I ever complained about you not… Doing that…?"

"Stop talking like that." Miles mocked. "We've covered cases with murder, theft, etc… And you refer to masturbation as that. Did you ever grow up?" Suddenly, the awkwardness was gone, and replaced with sardonic affection.

Phoenix chuckled quietly, before gripping Miles' hips. "I'll keep talking the way I do, as long as you keep mocking me like that." Leaning up, he placed a chaste kiss on the pale neck before him. "Now… Let's finish this before—" Licking the curve of Miles' neck, he smirked at the response he received; a low moan, and a shudder. "—we have to head back to the Police Station… Mrs. Lancaster's case is high-priority; we shouldn't be shirking work like this…" Now it was Phoenix's turn to do the groping.

Miles let out a shrill moan, when Phoenix began to stroke his overwrought erection. "Uhnn… Oh! W-Wright…" Rocking into that strong hand, Miles clenched his eyes closed. Phoenix smirked at the look of unabashed ecstasy on the writhing man's face—and the attorney took it as a sign to speed up.

Pumping faster, and faster; he knew that each stroke of his skilled hand was bringing the ravenette closer, and closer to the edge. And it helped that it didn't take long for him to establish a rhythm, especially since Miles' erection was oozing with pre-cum; the slick clear liquid providing a sufficient supply of lubrication… Well, for masturbation, atleast.

When it got right down to the sex; if Miles didn't magically produce some lotion of some sort, from that bottom-less Glove-Compartment, they would have to wait until they had some free time… which wouldn't be for a long time; seeing as their current case was both stressful, and time consuming.

Suddenly, as if reading Phoenix's mind, Miles shoved a small bottle of vanilla-scented lotion into his free hand.

Phoenix couldn't stop himself from raising a thin, black eyebrow; as he took a moment to once-over the ridiculous tag-line. 'If this doesn't get him, nothing will.' It would have been a wondrous piece of advice, if it didn't sound like they were implying that the user was extremely desperate.

As Phoenix opened his mouth to comment on the matter, he felt Miles pull him in for a chaste kiss on the lips. The two stayed like that for a whole three seconds; sure, they needed to be somewhere, but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy each-other's company.

Several heartbeats passed, before Phoenix felt a curious tongue licking his lips for entrance. And as he parted his chops slightly to allow Miles' tongue to slide in, he couldn't stop the moan that tickled in the back of his throat from reverberating throughout their joined mouths.

The unexpected vibration that resonated throughout Miles' body caused him to jerk his head back, and pant. "Fuck me…" He gasped, as a tight, coiling sensation settled in the pit of his stomach.

Phoenix gaped at those two words… Miles swore; yes, he was a grown man—and adults did swear alot—but, that didn't stop it from sounding like the sexiest phrase he's ever heard.

Growling with this new-found sense of arousal, Phoenix surged forward, and proceeded to kiss the breath out of the prosecutor. And while doing so, he lathered his fingers, and phallus, up with a generous amount of the sweet smelling lubricate.

Without warning, he slid his fingers into the moaning man above him; the sudden sensation causing him to shout out in a bizarre mix of pleasure, and pain. "Hah! Phoenix…" Miles panted, as he did everything in his power to keep from tensing up.

All too soon, the feeling stopped; and the fingers ceased their movement inside of him. Confused, Miles peeled his eyes open.

"Say that again…" Phoenix panted, his expression painted with bewilderment, amusement, and overwhelming lust. "Say my name, again…" And without giving the other man a chance to answer, he removed his fingers, and replaced them with his member.

Normally, Miles wasn't one to be vocal, and he especially wasn't a name caller, but... for some reason, he couldn't stop himself from chanting "Phoenix!", as if it were some sort of prayer.

One thing he knew for sure was that he was close… so, much so in fact, that he could hardly breathe, hardly think—all the energy he had was used to cling onto to Phoenix's suit-clad shoulders, like he was drowning, and the other man was his life-line.

When Phoenix bucked up with an exceptional amount of force, and the head of his member brushed against that special bundle of nerves; Miles shouted, and climaxed. As the prosecuter moaned and writhed throughout his messy orgasm; his cum stained his, and Phoenix's abdomens in the process.

Falling against the strong chest before him, he let out a few squeaks, as Phoenix continued to grind, and thrust into him. Just because he reached his peak, didn't mean that Phoenix was done quite yet.

Luckily, he didn't have to handle the blissful sensory overload any longer—within a few short moments, a throaty growl wasn't the only thing that Phoenix was releasing. "Miles…" He sighed contently, as he slumped in the car seat.

The lovers sat in comfortable silence, before Miles moaned. "I'm tired and sore… you're driving."

At that childish declaration, Phoenix chortled, "Fine…"

When the two finally arrived back at the Police Station; their were only two thoughts on everyone's mind—"Why are they late?" and "Why did they smell like vanilla?"

End.