Blood Will Tell (Part 3)
The sequel to Of Blood Red and Burgundy and second in the series.
Title: Blood will Tell
Pairing: Narumitsu
Theme: Romance, Horror, Comedy, Action
Warnings: Spoilers for PW 1 & 2, vampires and blood, gay lawyers, violence
Summary: Edgeworth knows Phoenix is a vampire and has freely given him both blood and a place in his home. Nobody else knows about their secret, though, and even they aren't sure about how they feel about each other....
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
"Somehow, I always expected Worthy to go out with a bit more dignity." Gant was wincing at the prosecutor's piercing yells.
"Dignity?" Vasquez twirled her pipe between her fingers. "You obviously weren't at my trial. Isn't that screaming going to attract some attention?"
"That was the first reason we killed the guards, Miss Vasquez. Nobody else is in the office at this hour, and the sound of traffic will drown out anything heard outside." von Karma was intent on the scene in front of him, obviously enjoying his revenge.
Gant was playing with his hair as he watched the prosecutor scrabble at the defense attorney's head with his free hand, trying to drag him off while the vampire fed. "Does watching this make you hungry, Manny?"
"That's the other reason we killed the guards. Now be silent and watch!"
-----
Miles felt the lips on his neck curve into a smile, and he almost stopped screaming from relief. Thank god, they're buying it... Wright, you are a mad genius!
Admittedly, he had no idea how Wright was still in apparent possession of his willpower. All he knew was that, instead of biting him, Wright had simply pressed his lips to Miles's neck and held himself there, making exaggerated sucking noises as Miles screamed his lungs out in falsified pain. Wright had even gone so far as to bite his own lip to create a realistic dribble of red flowing from the corner of his mouth.
Finally, when he felt his lungs were about to explode, Wright's lips moved, forming words against his skin. "Play dead."
-----
Miles gave a sudden convulsion, then lay limp on the asphalt. Phoenix grasped him by the lapels, scrambling to his feet and bringing the lifeless body to eye level.
"Go on, Wright, finish the job." von Karma's voice was eager.
Oh, I will. Miles gave him the tiniest perceptible wink, tightening his grip on the sword hanging 'limply' from his hand.
Phoenix turned and hurled Miles at von Karma with all the force he could muster. The prosecutor plunged through the air like some kind of burgundy javelin, sword point headed straight for his former mentor's heart.
Once again, however, von Karma's superior reflexes saved him. At the last second, he grabbed Dee Vasquez by the shoulder and dragged her in front of him like a shield.
A second piercing scream filled the parking garage as the pipe clattered to the ground, surrounded by a shower of ashes which was all that remained of the blackmailing ex-producer.
Miles landed in a crouch at von Karma's feet, but he was not about to pass up his advantage. He surged upwards, forcing the vampire backwards with a series of quick thrusts. It took von Karma precious seconds to draw his blade, and even then, the older man was kept on the defensive.
Phoenix was abruptly snapped out of his admiration of the swordplay, God, they'refast!, by Damon Gant hurtling at him like a charging buffalo.
Unlike the other combat, which was causing the sound of steel on steel to ring throughout the structure, this fight was far from elegant. The former chief of police was a brawler, and the contest proved to be a brief match of brute strength.
Phoenix was strong, but Gant was taller, with far more muscle mass. He grabbed Phoenix by the upper arms, forcing him back against the wall with such force that dust filled the air from the pulverized concrete.
Gant grinned, showing his fangs as he seized Phoenix by the throat, holding him up with his feet dangling six inches above the ground. "Sorry it had to turn out like this, Wrighto. No hard feelings?"
Phoenix's reply was to reach into his pocket, pulling out a chopstick with a carefully sharpened tip, and ramming it as hard as he could into Gant's chest. Gant's face barely had time to register a look of complete shock before it dissolved into flakes of fluttering ash. Phoenix fell to the ground, covered in dust and still clutching his chopstick.
"Hard feelings? No, not really..." He tried to scramble to his feet, but his injured leg didn't seem to want to obey him anymore and, judging from the pain in his abdomen, he had at least one cracked rib.
Sorry, Miles... You're on your own. He thought as he slumped against the concrete wall, fighting to stave off the darkness gathering as the edges of his vision.
-----
Beat-parry-ripposette-thrust-lunge-recover-thrust-parry-thrust- There was no time to think, no time to look at Wright or anything else. Von Karma was fast, too fast... but then, so was Miles.
The match was rapid and merciless, with no fancy strokes or showing off. If Miles had had time, he would have to be glad that von Karma had spent a year in prison with no chance to practice. The difference in muscle memory and skill, as well asKugelschreiber's particular deadly properties, were all that offset his opponent's greatly increased strength and speed.
They disengaged simultaneously, each taking a few steps backward and returning to the guard position. Miles was panting from the exertion, blood dripping from a cut on his cheek, while von Karma had a shallow, smoking wound on his chest.
"Tired, Edgeworth? Do you want me to sing you to sleep? After all..." He jerked his head to the side with a cold smile, "Your lover is already out cold."
Miles's eyes flickered to the side, before returning to his opponent. He hasn't turned to dust, so he's still alive... hold on, while I finish this! He looked over at von Karma, trying to fix his face in a look of cool unconcern. "Nevertheless, he looks far better off than your lover."
For once in his life, Manfred von Karma looked completely blank. "What on earth are you babbling abou-"
"Damon Gant, dead and dusted. I honestly feel sorry for you, Manny. I mean, he gave you such a cute nickname, you must have been close." Miles was beyond angry, beyond scared... he felt as though he had turned into a coldly smiling facsimile of himself, a sculpture of ice and steel. He had never expected to be in a situation where he was taunting von Karma, but he knew exactly which buttons to push.
"You-" The older man was pale with rage, but Miles kept talking.
"Of course, it must have been tough for him, having to settle for a failure like you. Your perfect record ruined, all that lying and cheating for nothing, you must have been quite the wreck in prison. I assume he topp-"
That did it. With what sounded almost like a roar, von Karma flung himself forward in a barely controlled flying lunge. Miles parried the blow easily, smiling like a cat. There were several mistakes that could prove the most deadly in fencing: holding the sword by the wrong end, dropping it, and getting angry. Stung by the insults, von Karma's speed and precision had both dropped, and he stated leaving holes in his guard.
Miles whipped his blade around and switched to the offense, driving the other man backwards across the open space. Von Karma backed up, step after step towards the wall. Miles was almost ready to cry out in triumph, when von Karma suddenly broke to the side, grasping the semi-comatose Phoenix Wright by the collar and hoisting him up like a human shield, swordpoint pressed to his temple.
"Don't move, boy! Even a vampire dies if his brain is damaged and, if I apply theslightest pressure-"
"PUT HIM DOWN!"
"Not until you drop your sword."
----
The clatter of steel on stone brought Phoenix groggily to his senses. He felt a cravat tickling the back of his neck. Miles? He opened his eyes. No, Miles was standing in front of him, looking pale and anxious, sword at his feet. There was something sharp pressed against his head... Oh no, von Karma!
"Ah, so you're awake." Von Karma released Phoenix's collar, allowing him to stand (if unsteadily) on his own, but not budging the sword an inch from where it rested. With his now free hand, the former prosecutor reached into Phoenix's jacket pocket, drawing out the Magatama.
"A Spirit Medium's channeling anchor..." The older vampire spoke almost to himself. "A safety net to keep the soul in place if a spirit gets out of hand and the reason my Enthrallment was unsuccessful. Still, that can be easily remedied..."
He clenched his hand around the small jade pendant, and crushed it into sparkling green dust.
-----
For Phoenix, it felt as if he had suddenly found himself standing at the edge of a cliff--he felt the magatama's protection vanish. Von Karma was speaking, his words unclear past the roaring in Phoenix's ears. He did, however, see Miles's eyes frantically flicking from his sword (lying on the ground) to Phoenix and he could feel von Karma was once more pressing a bloodstained finger to his lips.
Miles can't get to me in time... He kept his mouth sealed tightly shut, the effort of keeping it closed causing his jaw to ache. The other vampire was strong and both of them knew that only a few drops would do it so keeping his mouth tightly closed was imperative. He tried to think of something, anything...
...chopsticks came in pairs!
Reaching into his other pocket, he pulled out the second utensil and stabbed it, as hard as he could, into von Karma's sword hand. The former prosecutor screamed an dropped his weapon while Phoenix half stumbled, half fell away. Von Karma turned and ran towards the exit.
Phoenix had expected that Miles would grab up his weapon and follow, but instead the magenta-clad prosecutor was kneeling at his side, peering at him with a look of genuine concern on his pale face.
"Wright, are you-"
"I'm still me, yeah. I'm going to need a new magatama, though." He grinned hazily at the other man. "You were amazing, Miles! Being a hero suits you!"
Miles colored slightly. "Well, you weren't exactly a disaster, yourself. Though I wish you had used weaponry other than my tableware... what was that?"
A sound was coming from the stairwell, feet clattering on metal steps. Von Karma?
Miles was clearly thinking the same thing, as he leaned down and snatched up his sword, pointing it at the door. The footsteps came closer and closer-
It was a security guard, carrying a coffee and looking very surprised. His eyes darted from Miles, with his sword and cut cheek, to Phoenix, limping and with blood coming from the corner of his mouth, to the general area, the dropped sword, the dent in the concrete wall and the spatters of blood. He pulled out his pistol.
"You two are under arrest."
-----
For a while, they had been considered suspects in the mysterious deaths of the two guards their replacement had found stuffed in the back of the security shed. It wasn't until the fingerprints of Manfred von Karma, the escaped convict, were confirmed on the grip of the sword-cane, were the two lawyers released from custody... and by then it was nearly dawn.
Miles was tired- exhausted, really- but he felt that he could not rest easy until Wright was once more under a magatama's protection. Ever since the ornament had been destroyed, Wright had been twitchy.
Hence, the reason Miles was currently berating Detective Gumshoe.
"What do you mean, my car is evidence?" His voice was even colder than usual, if possible.
"It was parked right near where the murders occured, pal. And, given its history... orders from higher up, I can't do a thing, pal!" He had that irritating 'please don't dock my pay' face on, too.
"You do not seem to understand, Detective. Wright needs to get to Kurain village, immediately!"
Gumshoe leaned in conspiratorially. "Is it a va- a you-know-what thing?"
Miles sighed. "Yes."
Gumshoe's face lit up. "Don't worry pal! I can drive you, we'll be there faster than instant ramen!"
----
"I am never riding in a car with Gumshoe driving as long as I live." Wright shuddered as he sat in the spare room at the back of Kurain's temple. Miles was stretched out on a futon next to him, tired after staying up all night but refusing to go to sleep until Maya had finished preparing a new magatama. She had grumbled at first (they had gotten her out of bed at the crack of dawn, after all) but once she had understood the situation, nothing would do but for her to whip up the strongest anchoring spells she could find... which would take a while.
They were silent for a while, both lost in thought, until Wright said, suddenly, "There was one good thing about tonight."
Miles shook himself out of his half doze and turned to the vampire. "What was that? Watching my exceptional swordplay?"
Wright gave Miles a faint smile. "Actually, it was hearing you use my first name... though you do look sexy when you're raiping."
"When I'm- Wright, the term is fencing!" He shook his head at the other man's incredible stupidity, and hitched himself up on one elbow.
"Alright, but I meant what I said about my first name." Miles balked and Wright rolled his eyes. "Come on, Miles. We're living together, and don't play the 'We're not involved' card because we are." He leaned down and caressed the other man's cheek. "Miles, you owe me."
"Are you sure, Wright? I for one have lost track of who owes whom.” Wright’s hand was a little warmer than usual, brushing against his skin.
“Then, why don’t you just use my given name and we’ll call it even?” Miles quirked an eyebrow at him, and he grinned, answering the unasked question. “I know, not in public… The tabloids would have a field day. “
Miles exhaled a put-upon sigh. “All right, Wr- Phoenix… but only in private.”
“My friends call me Nick, you know.”
“Don’t push your luck. Anyway…” He smirked, slightly. “Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to fling yourself at me in a fit of gratitude?”
Phoenix didn’t need telling twice, grasping the other man’s cravat and pulling him into a passionate kiss. The vampire’s tongue was on his lips, easing them open, and Miles parted them the rest of the way in invitation, letting one hand filter through Phoenix’s spikes while the other held him up, propped against the floor. Phoenix was leaning over him, kissing him senseless, breathless.
My god, if using his first name brings on this kind of reaction, what would happen if I called him by his nickname?
Phoenix's mouth left his, suddenly, moving from his cheek, across to his ear, then down to his neck. His hands were also roaming, holding, stroking Miles's hair, his cheeks, his back, his chest. Miles was fervently reciprocating, kissing every inch of the other man he could reach. That day, the danger, their lives resting on a knife blade- he needed so desperately to remind himself that he was alive.
And then his lips were on the other man's, his tongue doing the delving, the exploring, being careful of the sharp canines. He'd expected a vampire to taste like blood, but Phoenix's mouth had its own flavour, almost like-
“Hey, pal, we got the maga- Oh my…” Gumshoe. Maya. Standing in the doorway, watching him frenching a defense attorney- Miles choked, half falling over as Phoenix released his hold.
-----
Maya looked from Nick’s fiery blush to the pale face of the toppled prosecutor and broke into a grin. “Sorry to interrupt, we’ll come back later!”
She grabbed Gumeshoe’s arm, yanking him out of the room and snapping the sliding door shut. The detective looked at her, his mouth working for a full minute before he could speak. “I- I think… we both owe Hannah ten bucks.”
“Yeah.” Maya nodded, then shot Gumshoe a cunning look. “I also think you owe methe same amount.”
“No way, pal. It’s your boss that’s walking funny, not mine!”
Title: Blood will Tell
Pairing: Narumitsu
Theme: Romance, Horror, Comedy, Action
Warnings: Spoilers for PW 1 & 2, vampires and blood, gay lawyers, violence
Summary: Edgeworth knows Phoenix is a vampire and has freely given him both blood and a place in his home. Nobody else knows about their secret, though, and even they aren't sure about how they feel about each other....
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
"Somehow, I always expected Worthy to go out with a bit more dignity." Gant was wincing at the prosecutor's piercing yells.
"Dignity?" Vasquez twirled her pipe between her fingers. "You obviously weren't at my trial. Isn't that screaming going to attract some attention?"
"That was the first reason we killed the guards, Miss Vasquez. Nobody else is in the office at this hour, and the sound of traffic will drown out anything heard outside." von Karma was intent on the scene in front of him, obviously enjoying his revenge.
Gant was playing with his hair as he watched the prosecutor scrabble at the defense attorney's head with his free hand, trying to drag him off while the vampire fed. "Does watching this make you hungry, Manny?"
"That's the other reason we killed the guards. Now be silent and watch!"
-----
Miles felt the lips on his neck curve into a smile, and he almost stopped screaming from relief. Thank god, they're buying it... Wright, you are a mad genius!
Admittedly, he had no idea how Wright was still in apparent possession of his willpower. All he knew was that, instead of biting him, Wright had simply pressed his lips to Miles's neck and held himself there, making exaggerated sucking noises as Miles screamed his lungs out in falsified pain. Wright had even gone so far as to bite his own lip to create a realistic dribble of red flowing from the corner of his mouth.
Finally, when he felt his lungs were about to explode, Wright's lips moved, forming words against his skin. "Play dead."
-----
Miles gave a sudden convulsion, then lay limp on the asphalt. Phoenix grasped him by the lapels, scrambling to his feet and bringing the lifeless body to eye level.
"Go on, Wright, finish the job." von Karma's voice was eager.
Oh, I will. Miles gave him the tiniest perceptible wink, tightening his grip on the sword hanging 'limply' from his hand.
Phoenix turned and hurled Miles at von Karma with all the force he could muster. The prosecutor plunged through the air like some kind of burgundy javelin, sword point headed straight for his former mentor's heart.
Once again, however, von Karma's superior reflexes saved him. At the last second, he grabbed Dee Vasquez by the shoulder and dragged her in front of him like a shield.
A second piercing scream filled the parking garage as the pipe clattered to the ground, surrounded by a shower of ashes which was all that remained of the blackmailing ex-producer.
Miles landed in a crouch at von Karma's feet, but he was not about to pass up his advantage. He surged upwards, forcing the vampire backwards with a series of quick thrusts. It took von Karma precious seconds to draw his blade, and even then, the older man was kept on the defensive.
Phoenix was abruptly snapped out of his admiration of the swordplay, God, they'refast!, by Damon Gant hurtling at him like a charging buffalo.
Unlike the other combat, which was causing the sound of steel on steel to ring throughout the structure, this fight was far from elegant. The former chief of police was a brawler, and the contest proved to be a brief match of brute strength.
Phoenix was strong, but Gant was taller, with far more muscle mass. He grabbed Phoenix by the upper arms, forcing him back against the wall with such force that dust filled the air from the pulverized concrete.
Gant grinned, showing his fangs as he seized Phoenix by the throat, holding him up with his feet dangling six inches above the ground. "Sorry it had to turn out like this, Wrighto. No hard feelings?"
Phoenix's reply was to reach into his pocket, pulling out a chopstick with a carefully sharpened tip, and ramming it as hard as he could into Gant's chest. Gant's face barely had time to register a look of complete shock before it dissolved into flakes of fluttering ash. Phoenix fell to the ground, covered in dust and still clutching his chopstick.
"Hard feelings? No, not really..." He tried to scramble to his feet, but his injured leg didn't seem to want to obey him anymore and, judging from the pain in his abdomen, he had at least one cracked rib.
Sorry, Miles... You're on your own. He thought as he slumped against the concrete wall, fighting to stave off the darkness gathering as the edges of his vision.
-----
Beat-parry-ripposette-thrust-lunge-recover-thrust-parry-thrust- There was no time to think, no time to look at Wright or anything else. Von Karma was fast, too fast... but then, so was Miles.
The match was rapid and merciless, with no fancy strokes or showing off. If Miles had had time, he would have to be glad that von Karma had spent a year in prison with no chance to practice. The difference in muscle memory and skill, as well asKugelschreiber's particular deadly properties, were all that offset his opponent's greatly increased strength and speed.
They disengaged simultaneously, each taking a few steps backward and returning to the guard position. Miles was panting from the exertion, blood dripping from a cut on his cheek, while von Karma had a shallow, smoking wound on his chest.
"Tired, Edgeworth? Do you want me to sing you to sleep? After all..." He jerked his head to the side with a cold smile, "Your lover is already out cold."
Miles's eyes flickered to the side, before returning to his opponent. He hasn't turned to dust, so he's still alive... hold on, while I finish this! He looked over at von Karma, trying to fix his face in a look of cool unconcern. "Nevertheless, he looks far better off than your lover."
For once in his life, Manfred von Karma looked completely blank. "What on earth are you babbling abou-"
"Damon Gant, dead and dusted. I honestly feel sorry for you, Manny. I mean, he gave you such a cute nickname, you must have been close." Miles was beyond angry, beyond scared... he felt as though he had turned into a coldly smiling facsimile of himself, a sculpture of ice and steel. He had never expected to be in a situation where he was taunting von Karma, but he knew exactly which buttons to push.
"You-" The older man was pale with rage, but Miles kept talking.
"Of course, it must have been tough for him, having to settle for a failure like you. Your perfect record ruined, all that lying and cheating for nothing, you must have been quite the wreck in prison. I assume he topp-"
That did it. With what sounded almost like a roar, von Karma flung himself forward in a barely controlled flying lunge. Miles parried the blow easily, smiling like a cat. There were several mistakes that could prove the most deadly in fencing: holding the sword by the wrong end, dropping it, and getting angry. Stung by the insults, von Karma's speed and precision had both dropped, and he stated leaving holes in his guard.
Miles whipped his blade around and switched to the offense, driving the other man backwards across the open space. Von Karma backed up, step after step towards the wall. Miles was almost ready to cry out in triumph, when von Karma suddenly broke to the side, grasping the semi-comatose Phoenix Wright by the collar and hoisting him up like a human shield, swordpoint pressed to his temple.
"Don't move, boy! Even a vampire dies if his brain is damaged and, if I apply theslightest pressure-"
"PUT HIM DOWN!"
"Not until you drop your sword."
----
The clatter of steel on stone brought Phoenix groggily to his senses. He felt a cravat tickling the back of his neck. Miles? He opened his eyes. No, Miles was standing in front of him, looking pale and anxious, sword at his feet. There was something sharp pressed against his head... Oh no, von Karma!
"Ah, so you're awake." Von Karma released Phoenix's collar, allowing him to stand (if unsteadily) on his own, but not budging the sword an inch from where it rested. With his now free hand, the former prosecutor reached into Phoenix's jacket pocket, drawing out the Magatama.
"A Spirit Medium's channeling anchor..." The older vampire spoke almost to himself. "A safety net to keep the soul in place if a spirit gets out of hand and the reason my Enthrallment was unsuccessful. Still, that can be easily remedied..."
He clenched his hand around the small jade pendant, and crushed it into sparkling green dust.
-----
For Phoenix, it felt as if he had suddenly found himself standing at the edge of a cliff--he felt the magatama's protection vanish. Von Karma was speaking, his words unclear past the roaring in Phoenix's ears. He did, however, see Miles's eyes frantically flicking from his sword (lying on the ground) to Phoenix and he could feel von Karma was once more pressing a bloodstained finger to his lips.
Miles can't get to me in time... He kept his mouth sealed tightly shut, the effort of keeping it closed causing his jaw to ache. The other vampire was strong and both of them knew that only a few drops would do it so keeping his mouth tightly closed was imperative. He tried to think of something, anything...
...chopsticks came in pairs!
Reaching into his other pocket, he pulled out the second utensil and stabbed it, as hard as he could, into von Karma's sword hand. The former prosecutor screamed an dropped his weapon while Phoenix half stumbled, half fell away. Von Karma turned and ran towards the exit.
Phoenix had expected that Miles would grab up his weapon and follow, but instead the magenta-clad prosecutor was kneeling at his side, peering at him with a look of genuine concern on his pale face.
"Wright, are you-"
"I'm still me, yeah. I'm going to need a new magatama, though." He grinned hazily at the other man. "You were amazing, Miles! Being a hero suits you!"
Miles colored slightly. "Well, you weren't exactly a disaster, yourself. Though I wish you had used weaponry other than my tableware... what was that?"
A sound was coming from the stairwell, feet clattering on metal steps. Von Karma?
Miles was clearly thinking the same thing, as he leaned down and snatched up his sword, pointing it at the door. The footsteps came closer and closer-
It was a security guard, carrying a coffee and looking very surprised. His eyes darted from Miles, with his sword and cut cheek, to Phoenix, limping and with blood coming from the corner of his mouth, to the general area, the dropped sword, the dent in the concrete wall and the spatters of blood. He pulled out his pistol.
"You two are under arrest."
-----
For a while, they had been considered suspects in the mysterious deaths of the two guards their replacement had found stuffed in the back of the security shed. It wasn't until the fingerprints of Manfred von Karma, the escaped convict, were confirmed on the grip of the sword-cane, were the two lawyers released from custody... and by then it was nearly dawn.
Miles was tired- exhausted, really- but he felt that he could not rest easy until Wright was once more under a magatama's protection. Ever since the ornament had been destroyed, Wright had been twitchy.
Hence, the reason Miles was currently berating Detective Gumshoe.
"What do you mean, my car is evidence?" His voice was even colder than usual, if possible.
"It was parked right near where the murders occured, pal. And, given its history... orders from higher up, I can't do a thing, pal!" He had that irritating 'please don't dock my pay' face on, too.
"You do not seem to understand, Detective. Wright needs to get to Kurain village, immediately!"
Gumshoe leaned in conspiratorially. "Is it a va- a you-know-what thing?"
Miles sighed. "Yes."
Gumshoe's face lit up. "Don't worry pal! I can drive you, we'll be there faster than instant ramen!"
----
"I am never riding in a car with Gumshoe driving as long as I live." Wright shuddered as he sat in the spare room at the back of Kurain's temple. Miles was stretched out on a futon next to him, tired after staying up all night but refusing to go to sleep until Maya had finished preparing a new magatama. She had grumbled at first (they had gotten her out of bed at the crack of dawn, after all) but once she had understood the situation, nothing would do but for her to whip up the strongest anchoring spells she could find... which would take a while.
They were silent for a while, both lost in thought, until Wright said, suddenly, "There was one good thing about tonight."
Miles shook himself out of his half doze and turned to the vampire. "What was that? Watching my exceptional swordplay?"
Wright gave Miles a faint smile. "Actually, it was hearing you use my first name... though you do look sexy when you're raiping."
"When I'm- Wright, the term is fencing!" He shook his head at the other man's incredible stupidity, and hitched himself up on one elbow.
"Alright, but I meant what I said about my first name." Miles balked and Wright rolled his eyes. "Come on, Miles. We're living together, and don't play the 'We're not involved' card because we are." He leaned down and caressed the other man's cheek. "Miles, you owe me."
"Are you sure, Wright? I for one have lost track of who owes whom.” Wright’s hand was a little warmer than usual, brushing against his skin.
“Then, why don’t you just use my given name and we’ll call it even?” Miles quirked an eyebrow at him, and he grinned, answering the unasked question. “I know, not in public… The tabloids would have a field day. “
Miles exhaled a put-upon sigh. “All right, Wr- Phoenix… but only in private.”
“My friends call me Nick, you know.”
“Don’t push your luck. Anyway…” He smirked, slightly. “Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to fling yourself at me in a fit of gratitude?”
Phoenix didn’t need telling twice, grasping the other man’s cravat and pulling him into a passionate kiss. The vampire’s tongue was on his lips, easing them open, and Miles parted them the rest of the way in invitation, letting one hand filter through Phoenix’s spikes while the other held him up, propped against the floor. Phoenix was leaning over him, kissing him senseless, breathless.
My god, if using his first name brings on this kind of reaction, what would happen if I called him by his nickname?
Phoenix's mouth left his, suddenly, moving from his cheek, across to his ear, then down to his neck. His hands were also roaming, holding, stroking Miles's hair, his cheeks, his back, his chest. Miles was fervently reciprocating, kissing every inch of the other man he could reach. That day, the danger, their lives resting on a knife blade- he needed so desperately to remind himself that he was alive.
And then his lips were on the other man's, his tongue doing the delving, the exploring, being careful of the sharp canines. He'd expected a vampire to taste like blood, but Phoenix's mouth had its own flavour, almost like-
“Hey, pal, we got the maga- Oh my…” Gumshoe. Maya. Standing in the doorway, watching him frenching a defense attorney- Miles choked, half falling over as Phoenix released his hold.
-----
Maya looked from Nick’s fiery blush to the pale face of the toppled prosecutor and broke into a grin. “Sorry to interrupt, we’ll come back later!”
She grabbed Gumeshoe’s arm, yanking him out of the room and snapping the sliding door shut. The detective looked at her, his mouth working for a full minute before he could speak. “I- I think… we both owe Hannah ten bucks.”
“Yeah.” Maya nodded, then shot Gumshoe a cunning look. “I also think you owe methe same amount.”
“No way, pal. It’s your boss that’s walking funny, not mine!”