Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/13977348. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: M/M Fandom: 逆転裁判_|_Gyakuten_Saiban_|_Ace_Attorney Relationship: Mitsurugi_Reiji_|_Miles_Edgeworth/Naruhodou_Ryuuichi_|_Phoenix_Wright, Mitsurugi_Reiji_|_Miles_Edgeworth_&_Naruhodou_Ryuuichi_|_Phoenix_Wright, Karuma_Gou_|_Manfred_von_Karma/Mitsurugi_Reiji_|_Miles_Edgeworth Character: Mitsurugi_Reiji_|_Miles_Edgeworth, Naruhodou_Ryuuichi_|_Phoenix_Wright, Karuma_Gou_|_Manfred_von_Karma Additional Tags: Child_Abuse, Implied/Referenced_Child_Abuse, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Rape, Underage_Rape/Non-con, Long-Distance_Friendship, One-Sided_Attraction, this_is_really_fucked_up, no_for_real_this_is_really_fucked_up, Dark, somewhat_happy_ending, First_Kiss, Non-Consensual_Oral_Sex, Oral_Sex, Frottage, Mentions_of_Masturbation, Dissociation, Fantasizing Stats: Published: 2018-03-15 Words: 5461 ****** Turnabout: Distance ****** by Gravity_Sun Summary Trapped in Germany with a monster, Miles lets his mind wander to the only comfort he knows. Notes PLEASE NOTE: I DO NOT IN ANY WAY CONDONE THE ABUSE PORTRAYED IN THIS STORY. I AM IN NO WAY SUPPORTING OR ENCOURAGING CHILD ABUSE OR SEXUAL ABUSE OF ANY KIND. Honestly, this came about because I'm in a shit place in my life and just kinda needed to write something really fucked up. And this is pretty fucked up. See the end of the work for more notes He’s gotten good at this, Edgeworth thinks, as he relaxes his throat so Manfred Von Karma can shove his cock further down. Barely any gag reflex at all. As fucked up as it is, he thinks, staring at the greying teal pubes in front of him, tickling his nose as Manfred thrusts with all the muster a man with his shitty body can, his mentor has left him in a place to be of great pleasure to whomever else he does this to. ‘Someone I’d actually want to. Like...’ No. Don’t go there. Not here. “Useless... foolish... defense...” Manfred is panting. Edgeworth isn’t listening. Heard enough to get the general gist of the situation and what was expected of him and tuned out the rest. Sounds like some defense attorney who didn’t know any better got the best of Manfred in court. Poor asshole. The defense attorney. Edgeworth is sure they’ll find child porn or otherwise compromising documents on the man’s PC in short order, and the court will be forced to replace the attorney with one who can take over a case on short notice. AKA one who doesn’t get much work. AKA someone who Manfred can easily beat. He contemplates saying something, mentioning about how Manfred can’t stand toe to toe with equal opponents and needs to cheat. But he remembers the last time he tried that and his jaw aches with the phantom pain of Von Karma’s cane hitting him across the face. “Literally... set the evidence on fire. How’d he--.” He’s panting, his hips shift and he tenses. He’s close. Good. This’ll be fast. He’s losing his staying power in his old age, Miles thinks. If he finishes soon enough it’ll leave him with enough time to boil his skin in the shower before-- “God... so good.” Manfred is babbling “That’s a good lad. That’s my good boy.” Miles feels his skin crawl at the praise. “So tight and warm you--.” He shudders, slipping into a litany of filth in German, in an obvious attempt to obscurate what he’s actually saying from Miles.  Miles wants to point out that he actually speaks German. Fluently, now. And completely comprehends. Manfred’s voice is low, with the obvious intent on keeping anyone who might still be about the manor from hearing, from determining just exactly what Manfred Von Karma does with his adoptive son after hours, but his hand tightens sharply in Miles hair and pulls and God Miles hopes it’s not going to be that kind of night. The kind that ends with bruises and rope burns he has to get really creative in covering up. Doesn’t seem like it, though. Manfred is rapidly approaching climax, equal parts Miles rapidly evolving skill set and old age. He’s honestly amazed Manfred can get it up in the first place. For a man so obsessed with perfection, he’s seemed to let his physical health lapse in that aspect. Miles remembers the last time Manfred forced him to shower with him. And that sight was honestly worse than the sex beforehand. He shudders and swallows down the urge to gag. Manfred moans his response, obviously misinterpreting Miles physical reactions. “Good, isn’t it?” The hand in his hair tightens past the point of pain and Miles forces his jaw to relax. Remembers the time he tensed and bitand the hospital visit that followed. Not for Manfred, of course. But Miles, who’d been beaten to a pulp. Or “fallen off his horse” for the official medical records. “Don’t worry.” Manfred slows his thrusting and Miles really hopes he can’t tell how hard he’s rolling his eyes. “I’ll take care of you after.” ‘I’d really rather you didn’t.’ Manfred is trying to draw this out, he can tell. Miles redoubles his efforts, relaxes his throat again and takes Von Karma deep, till his lips are buried in his pubes. He remembers an odd sense of fascination, realizing that the blue hair of the Von Karma bloodline was in fact, natural, staring at Manfred’s cock for the first time as a boy and understanding the phrase ‘carpet matches the drapes’. Though, he figures, he probably should’ve caught on. It’s not like his own natural silver hair is common, and doubtful that Manfred would have Franziska’s hair dyed so young and Manfred is tugging Edgeworth up and his cock is slipping from his mouth and Miles can’t help the surprised sound that comes out of him. ‘What is he--.’ Quicker than Miles can react - which he supposes was probably the intent - Manfred pulls him into his lap, smashing their lips together, and for a moment Miles honestly isn’t sure which is worse to have in his mouth, Von Karma’s cock or his tongue. Miles freezes. How is he supposed to react? He fights the revulsion, the desire to run, to shove Von Karma away, to punch him in the face until he no longer has a face. Seemingly unaware of Miles’ lack of response, or more than likely not actually giving a fuck, Von Karma continues, deepening the kiss even further, sliding a hand under Edgeworth’s shirt, stroking a nipple. Manfred’s hands are always cold. Always. Miles isn’t even sure how that’s possible but it feels like touching a snowman and despite himself he shudders. Manfred moans his approval, moving from his mouth to his neck. “That’s it.” Manfred is murmuring in German, in a tone Miles is sure he thinks sounds soothing “That’s my good boy. My beautiful boy. Mine. All mine.” Miles rolls his eyes. He much prefers his sexual abuse without all of the NAMBLA promotional material. “Took you in when no one wanted you.” Manfred is continuing “Raised you. Gave you everything.” ‘Yes, a large house and a warm bed and a cock up the ass when your wife wasn’t looking.’ “Look at you... carved out of marbel.” ‘No, I just don’t eat red meat for every meal and occasionally see the inside of a gym.’ “So good. So obedient . So beautiful. My boy. My love .” And Miles is almost gleeful that Manfred still thinks he doesn’t understand, otherwise he knows he’d be expected to respond to what was essentially Manfred’s Declaration of Love. Manfred reaches between them and strokes his cock a few times, still slick and wet with Edgeworth’s spit. In the turmoil of the past few moments, Miles had honestly forgotten about it. ‘Now I have to start all over... I have a paper due... don’t have time for this--.’ Manfred growls low in his chest and grips Miles’ face, pulling him back in for another kiss, this one soft, tender, almost sweet. Miles’ blood turns to ice water and despite himself, he completely freezes under the realization that the only kisses he’s ever gotten like this have been from Manfred. Well, except that one, when he was a boy, shortly before Von Karma had whisked him away to Germany, standing under the willow tree in the backyard, both too young to really understand what they were doing-- ‘NO. Not now. Not here. You don’t think abouthimhere.’ Manfred pulls back with a sigh. A gentle sound Miles has never heard him make before and it disturbs him all the same. He’s frozen. Between Von Karma’s ice hands and his cock and the sudden change in demeanor his brain can’t compute. Manfred looks at him, thumb stroking over his cheek and across his lips with something that almost feels like affection. “I love--.” He starts, in German, then trails off, staring at Miles’ face. What he finds there, Miles isn’t sure. He’s still frozen in Von Karma’s lap. A lap, he wants to point out, that he’s much too big to fit in. A lap, he’s being roughly shoved out of. ‘Thank fuck.’ Manfred’s hand is back in his hair and his cock is back down his throat and Edgeworth relaxes a bit and buries the thought to try and analyze what that says about him. Miles is knocked back on his heels as Manfred stands, gripping his head and thrusting hard and fast, babbling again. “Look at you, lips wrapped around my length.” ‘God who even says ‘length’ anymore..?’ “What would your father think, if he could see you now?” Miles’ eyes snap open at the thought, wide eyed with horror and Von Karma laughs, louder than Miles is sure he meant to. “Taking me so well... what would he think of his little boy?” To his credit, it had been a long while since Manfred had mentioned Gregory Edgeworth in any capacity. Even longer since he’d brought him up during ‘one- on-one time’. In the beginning, he mentioned him constantly. Holding Miles down and burying his screams in the mattress, telling him the shame his father must feel. Despite himself, he feels tears well in his eyes. He could have left. He could have run away, found somewhere, anywhere that would take him. Or nowhere. He could have told someone or flung himself from the roof. ‘God, Father. What have I sacrificed in the name of... creature comforts..?’ Edgeworth shakes his head to clear his thoughts, which has the unintended consequence of pulling a moan from Von Karma, who shoves deeper. ‘Thankfully, not too much ‘length’ to worry about.’ He closes his eyes and tries to let his mind drift to anything. School. Homework. The nightmare that is riding lessons with Franziska. He recaps his day. Mrs. Von Karma told him he’d gotten some mail, had left it in his room. He hadn’t checked it but... maybe. Maybe there’s a letter from him . ‘No, don’t think about that... not here.’ But despite himself he can’t help it. He thinks of a willow tree and an overeager 8-year-old who’s lips tasted like cherry cola and popsicles. He thinks about the stash of letters and postcards and pictures, less these days, stashed in a loose floorboard in the attic. Maybe he’s gotten a letter. A letter with an update about a life far away from this one. Maybe there’s a picture of him. He’s not proud of it, but in a fit of teenage frustration and angst he ‘creeped’ on him online. On Phoenix. The name feels heavy even when he’s not saying it aloud. Pulled up his profile on every social networking site and stoked himself to madness. Came over and over again. Phoenix still had the same goofy grin, obnoxious spiked hair, but had filled out quite nicely. Clearly didn’t realize it, but the shirtless pictures he’d posted, him camping or swimming or playing basketball with Larry, suntouched skin and delectable beads of sweat had Miles coming so hard he got a Charlie Horse. ‘No. No. Something else. Anything else.’ Manfred’s thrusts are growing more erratic, his breathing heavier, his babbling a mixture of English and German that would be almost amusing if not for the heavy thematic elements of pedophilia laced throughout. Manfred’s body tenses and his breath catches and he thrusts forward one hard, final time. ‘Thank fuck.’ Edgeworth thinks, as his mentor erupts in his mouth. The taste is awful, but what one would expect from a man who eats almost nothing but rare red meat, bourbon and overpriced cigars. Manfred slumps back into his chair, panting, struggling to catch his breath and Miles hopes this is what finally gives him a heart attack. No such luck, of course. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and avoids eye contact, standing. If he hurries he can-- “Where do you think you’re going?” ‘Fuck.’ He averts his gaze, hoping to hide the annoyance on it. ‘And wow when did it become that? When did it become annoyance over sheer terror and shame?’ “To the library, Sir.” After boiling his skin “I have a paper to submit soon that I’d like to get some more work done on.” “Hn.” Manfred says, considering. Miles turns to leave again “Stop. Your professors will forgive you.” “But I--.” Would like to get through this course on my own merit not with you threatening every professor and administrator, Miles starts, before catching himself. Von Karma seems to not notice. “In fact, you just submitted the best paper he’s ever read. Don’t you remember?” ‘ But of course you’re going to threaten every professor and administrator.’ Knowing it wasn’t really a question, Miles nods. “Of course, Sir. You were quite helpful in its composition, if I recall.” Manfred grins and a chill runs down Edgeworth’s spine. “Good boy.” Miles is tempted to point out that he’s hardly a boy, 16 now, but doesn’t. “Take your shirt off.” Miles can’t make his fingers move. Manfred’s softening cock is still out from his slacks and Edgeworth forces himself to look away. ‘He just came. He can’t possibly...’ “Go on. Take it off.” Miles hears a soft clink , as Manfred takes a long pull from the previously forgotten glass of bourbon next to him. Ah. They’ve played this game before, when Edgeworth was much younger. Where Manfred would order him to strip and stare at him, sometimes for hours , without touching. As if he thought by not touching, he wasn’t committing a crime. ‘You have got to stop attending those NAMBLA meetings, Prosecutor Von Karma.’ Edgeworth forces his face to neutral and pulls his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. Manfred makes a please noise in the back of his throat, tucking himself away. “Now the pants. Underwear too.” Miles looks away, shuts his eyes and pushes his pants down around his ankles, moves to step out of them before Manfred stops him. “That’s good enough.” He murmurs, eyes fused to Edgeworth’s skin. “Look at you.” He whispers “My beautiful boy.” ‘Not really a boy and hardly yours what are you doing?! ’ Edgeworth watches with wide eyes as Manfred slides from the chair to his knees in front of him. Shudders from the chill and revulsion when Manfred’s hands roam over his skin. Bites his lip to keep from shouting when he begins pressing kisses to his legs, abdomen, arms, anywhere he could reach. Manfred is muttering, in German again, about the feel of his skin, how sweet it tastes. Edgeworth is frozen, doesn’t know how to respond. Is he supposed to talk? Move? Cry? Manfred licks a wide strip across the junction between his thigh and crotch and despite himself Edgeworth yelps and jumps back. ‘Oh that’s it. You’ve done it now. Here comes the what are you doing?! ’ With hands gentler than Edgeworth had ever witnessed, Manfred grips his waist and gently walks him forward, trails his fingertips down the small of his back to Miles ass where they grip gently. “Hush now.” Manfred says, seemingly speaking more to Miles’ cock than to the man himself “I won’t hurt you. Don’t you know that by now? I’d never hurt you.” ‘Except for the time you broke my arm, or my jaw, or my rib, or like two days ago when you hit me across the back with your cane, or--.” Manfred swallows Edgeworth down quicker than he can react. Well, this is new. His body gives an involuntary pulse and his cock hardens some on Manfred’s tongue. Von Karma moans around him in response, pulling off just enough to whisper a ‘good boy’ to his hip before resuming. Oh. Oh no. This Edgeworth can’t do. Hide the bruises and muffle your screams? Check. Manage to actually get it up for Manfred Von fucking Karma? No. And he’s not even good . Too much teeth and how is his mouth ice cold? It brings him a smug sense of satisfaction, however. Finally finding one thing he’s not good at. Edgeworth doesn’t comment, however, and hopes Manfred gets bored of this game. “Want to taste you, Miles. Cum in my mouth.” Well shit. Despite what Miles assumes is Manfred’s best efforts, his dick remains mostly flaccid. After a time, Manfred pulls away, and stands. Miles shuts his eyes and braces himself for the slap he’s sure is coming. He flinches at the gentle hand placed on his cheek. “Shhh.” Manfred said, as if he was a spooked horse, reaching down to jerk Miles off with one hand, cupping his face with the other. Miles firmly keeps his eyes closed, and is glad for it when Manfred captures his lips in another kiss, mouth stinging with bourbon. Manfred moans into the kiss, gives what Miles takes to be a warning squeeze - too hard, too much nail - to his cock, causing Miles to tentatively reciprocate. He feels tears welling behind his eyes. This is too much. He doesn’t want this. Can’t do this. It’s easier when he’s being forced to his knees, or held down. It’s easier when he can run to the willow tree inside his head and block it all out. Disappear until he’s gone, then clean up the mess. However, Manfred has made his expectation very clear, and giving his clumsy pumping of Edgeworth’s cock, he is still set on his goal. Miles, however, feels nauseous. Feels himself drifting to the place he built in his head for such occasions. Where everything is warm and soft and smells like remnants of his mother’s perfume. But, that’s not going to be good enough this time. This time, he has to do more than just lie there. Just relax his jaw and throat. Just muffle his cries. This time he has to want it . Or at least seem to enough to appease Von Karma. It’s ok, then, right? Just this once? Just this once to let his mind wander to him . To let his mind form the image that’s so beautiful even Manfred couldn’t stamp it out. He thinks back to that clumsy kiss, both of their first. It made so much sense and none at the same time, at the time. He’d just found out Von Karma was moving them to Germany. That it’s possible he’d never see his friends again. That he’d be off in another country with that monster . “It’s what people who love each other do!” Phoenix had blurted, and Miles had agreed. Phoenix tasted sweet, like the first days of summer. They’d kissed until the servants came looking for Miles. Kissed until the tears ran down their faces at the realization this may be the last they’d see each other. It, in fact, wasn’t. Miles had been flown back for a brief stint a few summers later and Phoenix had been there. Manfred had barely left them enough time to be alone, let alone kiss, and so the kiss had never been discussed to this day. He’d wondered if Manfred had been jealous, if that was why he wouldn’t leave him and Phoenix alone. At the time the idea seemed preposterous. Not so much anymore. “That’s it..” Manfred’s deep voice brings him back to the present, to where his cock is slowly filling in his hand. Because of Phoenix. ‘Not even here and still saving me every day.’ Taking his slowly building erection as a good sign, Manfred drops back to his knees with enough force to hurt and takes Edgeworth back in his mouth. It’s clumsy and rough and a bit uncomfortable but that was ok. Phoenix wouldn’t be good at this, either. In one of his letters, he’d mentioned a girlfriend, or more accurately a Homecoming date. Aside from that, mentions of his love life were virtually nonexistent. Of course, it’s not like Edgeworth ever responded to the letters to ask. Phoenix wouldn’t have much experience. Not like Edgeworth could really talk. Aside from a few mostly unsuccessful romps at prep school (which Manfred pulled him out of, and that decision is starting to make more sense), this is where any of his ‘sexual prowess’ comes from. They’d be awful. Their first time would be all limbs and swears. And laughter. Phoenix would laugh and Miles would feel loved, not mocked. There’s warm wetness around his cock and Miles gives himself into it, letting his hips thrust forward. A moan of encouragement reaches his ears and he lets his head fall back, feels the grip of hands on his ass, pictures the smile on Phoenix’s face in the picture he has stashed away in his closet. Imagines the warmth of his skin. The smell of it. He lets his mind wander, wander back to his bedroom where there’s mail. Where there may be a letter. Maybe even a picture. A sign of the happy world outside his own. His breath picks up and his thrusting speeds up. He could run away. He’s got a small savings from the Von Karma’s. He could empty his account and be on a plane right now. Could, in hours, see Phoenix. Not through a picture or a letter, but really see him. Touch him. He wants to board a plane. Wants to fly home and climb in through Phoenix’s window in the way that he always sees on TV but is abundantly aware never happens in real life. And Phoenix would let him. Would welcome him with open arms and warm covers and sweet kisses. He wonders what his cock looks like. Is it thick? Long? Both? Bronze like the rest of him? Wonders if Phoenix is still a virgin. If he fucked the girlfriend he mentioned. Lingers on the term ‘girlfriend’ and realizes Phoenix is very likely straight and would be repulsed by Edgeworth’s borderline obsession a continent away. ‘Love, Nick.’ That’s how he’d signed the last letter. The last several. “I miss you”s and “I can’t wait to see you”s and “Love”s. Maybe... just maybe . Maybe Phoenix remembers their kiss. Maybe that’s why he keeps writing Edgeworth, even after all these years. Maybe... The Phoenix in his head is smiling at him, letting Edgeworth climb on top of him, take the lead. His skin smells like cedar and spice. His laughter is sunshine. No time to prep, to stretch him. Open Phoenix up so slowly and gently that he’d be shaking, moaning beneath Miles. It occurs to him that he’s never heard Phoenix swear before. Hasn’t even heard Phoenix’s voice since childhood. He wonders what “fuck” would sound like, coming from those lips. “Fuck me, Miles.” Miles’ eyes roll up, his head even further back, a low moan escaping his lips. God he would, if he could. But there’s no lube, no time. But this is enough. He presses his lips to Phoenix’s skin, warm like the Arizona desert and grinds their bodies together, cock to cock. His mind briefly conjures up the time he’d actually done that. Chair jammed under the doorknob, going slowly to avoid to the bed squeaking enough. A boy with dark hair and bronze skin and a wide smile. Not Phoenix, but close enough. A boy who’s name Edgeworth can’t even remember now. But it doesn’t matter. Because under him, Phoenix is coming apart, and it’s the most gorgeous thing Miles has ever seen. Pleasure sweeps through him. Miles thighs are trembling with the effort of holding back his orgasm. “It’s ok, Miles.” He’s saying “I want you to. I want you to cum. Please cum for me.” He wants to. God does he want to. But he holds back. Needs more, needs Phoenix to “I love you, Miles.” Edgeworth comes with a shout, his legs threatening to give out as his body trembles and he comes his fucking brains out. Reaches down to get a handful of that spiky hair and... Feels sleek softness. Straight, greying blue strands. Horror runs through him. What had he just done? “Cheeky boy.” Manfred chuckles, a gentle slap on his ass fully snapping Miles back to the present. He wasn’t in LA. He was in Germany. At Von Karma’s estate. Said Von Karma was wiping his cum off his lips with the back of his hand. He was standing naked in the study, doing things that weren’t allowed to be spoken of in the light of day. Carrying the burden of this secret and its shame. “See what happens when you’re good? Careful, or you’ll wake the house. Luckily Franziska has already gone to bed.” Of course. Because no one can know. No one but them. “You came so much.” Von Karma kisses his way up Edgeworth’s body “Good, right?” Edgeworth can’t answer. Tries but he can’t make his voice work. He manages a few audible breaths but nothing else comes out. Except the tears. The tears fall and Miles can’t stop them. Von Karma stands over him leans in, just close enough. And Miles knows this time. Knows what he’s supposed to do. Stands on tip toe and presses a kiss to Von Karma’s lips. “Thank you, Sir.” He says Von Karma seems pleased. Reaches up to brush Miles’ bangs from his face. He turns to hide his face in shame and Manfred doesn’t stop him this time. Just sits back down in his chair. Edgeworth goes to pick up his clothes, when Manfred clears his throat, and he freezes. “What do you think you’re doing?” “I... It’s late, Sir. I thought--.” “Don’t you remember? Your professors gave you the next few days off.” Miles feels the fear set in at Manfred’s words. At their meaning. “... Of course, Sir. My mistake.” Manfred chuckles. “Good boy. Now. Stay there.” Miles does. Manfred doesn’t say much more, just stares at Edgeworth’s body for another hour or so, though he suspects that was less out of arousal and more out of instilling fear. It’s late by the time Von Karma lets him leave. The fire in his office died down some time ago and his skin is thick with goosebumps. He forgoes the shower and climbs straight into bed, under the covers, fingers moving before he realizes what he’s doing. Dialing the number he’d memorized so long ago, that Phoenix had scribbled at the bottom of one of his last letters. The line rings and he begins to panic, goes to hang up when “Hello?” He freezes. He hadn’t actually thought this through. What would he even say to Wright? ‘Hello, sorry I’ve been ignoring you for almost 10 years’? ‘My adoptive father just forced me to come in his mouth and stand naked while he stared at me for an hour’? ‘Hey you wouldn’t happen to be gay, by chance’? “Is anyone there..?” Phoenix’s voice sounds different but somehow exactly as he imagined. His breath catches and he wants to say something, anything. Knows that Phoenix, like any sane person, is going to hang up the phone if all he hears is breathing and silence on the other end. “Oh.” Phoenix says “I see.” Miles closes his eyes, waits to hear the dial tone. “Larry’s got a new girlfriend.” Is instead what happens “For now. He’s still got the old one and I don’t think the two of them are going to get along very well.” Miles’ eyes snap open in the dark. What.. “I heard the new one’s ex is just now getting out of the hospital. She broke his leg because he liked some girl’s instagram selfie. Larry’s pretty much playing with fire.” ... is he... “I told him, but you know how that goes. He says he’s ‘increasing his odd of finding true love’.” Phoenix says, imitating Larry “He’s increasing his odds at winding 6 feet under before 20, is what I say. Hmm... lets see... I hope you got the letter I sent you. There’s a few pictures in it of me and Larry and the rest of the guys. Larry’s getting tall. I’m... not quite so lucky.” ‘I’m sure you’re perfect. So beautiful.’ Miles wants to say. He clutches the phone closer to his ear instead. “Man these classes are kicking my ass. You were always better with the ‘school stuff’. I bet they’ve got you in some crazy smart prep school over there.” ‘They did. Manfred pulled me out without explanation. But now I’m starting to get....’ Outside his door, he can hear the distinct walking pattern of Manfred and his cane. His breath freezes. No. Not not now. Not while he has him . If he has to hang up he’ll... “And Larry,” Phoenix was saying “Just throws the entire tray at him. Food goes flying everywhere. The principal is coming so Larry takes a freaking milk carton and throws it on the ground and yells SCATTER!” Edgeworth is confused, having only caught the tail end of the story, but covers his mouth to hide his laughter. His door knob turns, and his door opens, just a fraction. “So I’m hauling ass across the school yard, and remember that fence that seemed huge because we were kids? Turns out, actually just a huge fence--.” Edgeworth holds his breath, turns his body to stone and doesn’t move. Doesn’t so much as blink. Slowly, the door closes back. He lets out an audible sigh of relief before he can stop himself. “I know, right?!” Phoenix is saying, having zero idea of what the actual reason behind the sigh was “It’s a miracle I made it over. But I fell into a patch of poison Ivy. Turns out, I’m not actually allergic to it, like most people.” ‘Well that’s nice...’ “But my entire family is. So... they haven’t been to happy with me.” Despite himself, Edgeworth smiles. “But, you know what? I’m happy. I’m happy you called.... Voice on the other end of the line.” There’s a sadness in his voice that stings in Miles’ chest. “Or, no voice, I guess.” Edgeworth braces himself for the anger, prepares to hang up. “Oh well. You were always a better listener, right? It’s why I keep writing you. Feels good to talk to you.” ‘Even though I never reply...’ “Even though you never reply... I know you’re listening, right?” ‘Yes. Absolutely.’ “Oh, hey! Did you hear, they’re remaking Signal Samurai? It doesn’t look like it’ll be as good as the original, but you never know. There’s a marathon of it on right now. Should we watch it?” ‘Well, I’m 9 hours ahead of you in Germany with my rapist so...’ “Oh, I bet it’s not on there... is it? Hm... well, I’ll put it on really loud, and tell you what’s going on.” And he does. For hours. He wants to ask Wright if he’s keeping him from anything. It’s the middle of the day there, he’s bound to have plans or chores or something. But he doesn’t. Phoenix seems perfectly content to describe, in almost impressive detail, what’s happening on the screen. Phoenix puts him on speaker phone, and it’s clear enough to make out most of the show’s dialog. He closes his eyes, pretends he’s a blind man and that’s why he can’t see what Phoenix does. That Phoenix is right next to him and they’re watching TV like they used to. Closes his eyes and lets the mellow baritone of Phoenix’s voice wash over him. “Oh man!” Phoenix groans “I forgot this season ends on a cliff hanger... says they’re airing season 2 next weekend.” He chuckles “Man, it’s so late here. I bet it’s really early there, huh?” Edgeworth hadn’t even considered it. Hadn’t poked his head above the covers since he went underneath them, hours ago. He sits up. The manor is quiet and outside the sun is rising. “Welp. I’m starving. I gotta be off to get some food. But, it was nice talking to you, No Voice.” Edgeworth smirks. “Hey... for real though... if you’re there, if you’re ok, can you give me a sign?” If he’s there and if he’s OK are two separate things. “Can you maybe... long press a button?” He could do that. He could also speak. “You don’t have to be OK, just... if you’re there.” Edgeworth clenches the phone so hard in his hands he fears it may break. ‘Press the button. Just... press a button. Do something.’ But he remembers the vow he made to himself. To keep Phoenix as far away from his mess of a life as possible. And if he replied, then--. “It’s ok, Miles. I know it’s you.” Edgeworth’s eyes snap open. He releases a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. “Besides, anybody else would’ve gotten bored of me by now.” Phoenix’s laughter roared “Next weekend... there’s the other marathon. Just... talk to you soon, No Voi-- Miles. Yeah?” ‘Yeah.’   X   In LA, Phoenix’s stomach gives an angry rumble. He moves the phone away from his face, glancing at the call time. Over 5 hours. He really hoped international calls weren’t more because his parents would murder him. But... it’d still be worth it. Because just as he goes to end the call, Phoenix can swear he hears the long press of a button. End Notes Please don't hate me I'm toying with the idea of writing a sequel. One that's more "Phoenix and Edgeworth cuteness" and less ... Manfred. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!