Starter for @turnaboutprosecutor - Seven Year Gap Era It had been a generally normal day, otherwise. They’d gone to their studies, discussed at length the differences in the German legal system compared to their own, and others they’d studied - what was good, what could be improved, what they could utilize if they ever wanted to make changes back home - and then he and his old friend Miles Edgeworth had gone to a little seminar after. It was woefully in German, which Phoenix knew only a smattering of, but he was grateful that Miles had at least been polite enough to translate the highlights for him so he didn’t feel like a total imbecile.
Even despite all that, it had been perfectly fine. He’d figured that they’d mingle a little, while he stood awkwardly to one side and hoped someone spoke English to him, and then they’d go eat dinner and head back to the flat they’d been sharing for the past month or so. In truth, it had been nice to get out of Los Angeles - the media still liked to pick up on his disgrace even four years after the fact, and while he weathered it easily enough, it still wasn’t fun. At least here, he was less well known. Things would have been fine, at least, until a striking gentleman named Lukas Jager had approached them, and struck up a genial, polite conversation with Miles. At first, the conversation had been in German, until he had noticed Phoenix, and then he had politely switched to accented but fluent English for his sake. There was nothing at all untoward about him - he clearly had known Miles from the past, perhaps past studies, and seemed to be closer to a friend to an acquaintance - but that wasn’t what had bothered Phoenix. He wanted Edgeworth to have friends other than him, he wanted him to be happy and free to be himself after all this time. No, it was…Jager’s body language. The way he leaned in just a touch when he spoke to Miles, the way his eyes softened just a little when he turned back to their mutual friend - that subtle invitation to dinner for only two, not three - Oh no. He’s into Edgeworth. But Edgeworth isn’t into him, he’s not into anyone! He’s as Ace as they come…isn’t he? Something akin to queer panic began to rise in his lovelorn little heart - Of course, he wanted Edgeworth to be happy, but that didn’t mean that he still didn’t…well, it was complicated. Phoenix had been made to come around to the fact that he’d harbored beyond platonic feelings for his old friend a number of years ago, during the course of his therapy and his efforts to overcome the trauma put upon him by Dahlia and poor Iris. He’d accepted it, settled on it, pined a little, and then done nothing about it for the past three years. It had been easy when Miles had been abroad, absent from his life aside from phone calls and text messages. But now they were here, together, living together, and there was this man trying politely to express his interest… In short, Phoenix had been stewing on this ever since they’d left the seminar. He found himself sitting on the sofa, a thick book in his hands, with the pretense of reading it and cross referencing the notes he’d taken that day. In reality, he’d spent the better half of the past half hour staring at the same sentence, his mind elsewhere. For all that he and Edgeworth had forged a close friendship, and for all that they were able to talk openly and freely about work and most regular life occurrences, talking about something as private as sexuality and the like had never come up. Honestly, Phoenix had been afraid to bring it up for some time, if only because he had been afraid of what the response might be. Perhaps…it was just best to at least gauge the situation - and if anything, let Miles know that he was a safe person to talk about such things with, even if his interests were not in him. “So, that Lukas Jager fellow was nice,” he said over the edge of the book. “You guys know each other from back when you still lived here?” He glanced up and offered his old friend a bit of a smile - if anything, he was at least glad that Edgeworth appeared to have made friends in those long years that he struggled. “Are you going to go on that date with him?”
It would all have been a smidge easier had the prosecutor had more than just a wink of sleep the night prior. It wasn’t all too uncommon for him to sleep lightly or not at all at times ( which has at least been steadily improving over the past years ), however when the day was to be as busy as the one ahead of them, he knew he would have had to gauge his energy well. Studies, seminar, the pleasantries after,
And perhaps it was that mild exhaustion that rendered Miles Edgeworth entirely unaware of the real intention of Mr. Jager as they conversed, or perhaps… it was just because he was none other than Miles Edgeworth. After all, had he been versed in any way with subtext, he’d have surely noticed long ago that there was at least one person in his life that’s been silently pining for his affection. But alas, no.
One might have had to spell it out for him in big, bold letters for him to become aware ( if not only for an amount of self-loathing still well present within him, making him subconsciously believe that it’s not as if anyone were to ever be interested in him, and perhaps for the better. People that were close to him had a record of meeting an untimely end, well-deserved or no. )
So once the two men were back at their temporary living space, Miles had quickly settled into an armchair across the couch, tea steeping in a french press on the table between the two as he mindfully flipped through the stack of documents. He may have been away, but there were still duties across the pond that he had to take care of, and the FedEx courrier has been visiting their apartment every second day, delivering the documents back and forth. Still, the fatigue was beginning to catch up to him and he found himself tapping a pencil absent-mindedly at the margin of a page… just until a voice came from across the coffee table, and the prosecutor raised his head, blinking a few times to readjust his vision. What was it that detectvie Gumshoe said about prescription glasses…?
“…Yes, well,” he began, tilting his head slightly and looking up briefly, to recall the facts to the best of his ability “…I seem to remember we’ve met during a seminar when I was just shy of… nineteen?” Yes, one of those intense feats that Karma sent him off to on a weekly basis, just before they were to move back to the States and have him begin his ruthless career. “I can’t say we’ve been in touch teribly often… I hadn’t seen him for quite a while. But i suppose he is nice, yes… hm?”
It was as if it only then hit him what Phoenix had said last. He paused, looking right through his friend with an expression that betrayed just how rapidly things were falling into place in his tired mind. Oh. …oh.
“…Right. Yes, it does seem to make quite a lot more sense this way, does it not…” he muttered, moreso to himself rather than to Phoenix, pinching the bridge of his nose in what seemed to be… mild frustration. But at what exactly, he wasn’t quite sure just yet.
“I…” he cleared his throat, now once again avoiding his friend’s gaze. “I do not… think I will.”
Wait. Edgeworth had no idea he was trying to ask him out on a date?? The man really is that obtuse when it comes to social situations. No wonder it took us so long to sort out getting our friendship back on track. Nevertheless, Phoenix tried not to look uncomfortable at the idea - and remained the perfect picture of neutrality and friendly conversation. He watched what appeared to be a complicated mixture of emotions play across his old friend’s face, though he had no idea why Miles would want to avoid his face. There wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about, being asked out on a date by a nice and nice-looking person. What was embarrassing was the rush of relief that washed over Phoenix when Edgeworth awkwardly declared that he was not, in fact, considering accepting the offer. Of course, that relief was mingled with some dread yet - he was fairly certain that his old friend was not only ace, but aromantic as well, as it happened, and so nothing was going to happen between them either. “Oh? Any reason why? He seemed nice enough. Intelligent - and I can’t imagine you wanting to be with anyone who was less intelligent than you are.” Which really...in Phoenix’s opinion, cut him out of the deal. He’d never consider himself as intelligent as Edgeworth, though he was perfectly capable and smart. To him, Edgeworth seemed on a completely different level than most, though he could admit that perhaps that was still some of that childhood hero warship still clinging to the inside of his brain. “Oh - well, unless you aren’t interested in guys, which that’s fair. Or anyone at all...Sorry. I guess it’s really not my business. Not like I’m some expert in romance either.” He hadn’t touched the stuff since he was 19, as it happened. Too much trauma, too many scars - it took therapy for him to realize and identify the nature of his affection for his old friend, and he’d let it lie ever since. It was important, to him, but maintaining this friendship was even more so. He didn’t want to risk it all on unrequited feelings.
