Ace Attorney, its characters and settings, are property of Capcom, and are being used here without permission.  This fic is rated NC-17 for yaoi sexual content.  Written by Croik, for Silverwind, Xmas 2007 <3

 

 

Last December

Oneshot

 

 

For once in his life, Kristoph retreated and felt no shame for it.  There were some things that no man could reasonably prepare for, and so there was no reason for him to be blamed in the slightest.  And he didn't blame himself: he was too furious for any other emotion to slip through.

 

It was enough of a hassle already to have been invited out to the home of Marvin Grossberg, of all people, for a New Years party.  Just about every criminal defense lawyer and civil attorney in the city had been invited--a failing firm's attempt to mend its tattered reputation.  Kristoph would have declined entirely, if not for the opportunity it presented.  He was close now to being the most often sought lawyer in his field, and being in a position to out-shine Grossberg in his own home to everyone in their profession that mattered was too tempting to refuse.

 

What he hadn't counted on was one particular man on the guest list, who had shown up too late to be fashionable, and had no business associating with any the other attendants.  Of course, he and Kristoph had known each other for years now, in every sense of the word.  However, those interactions were always carried out following a set of universal, unspoken rules: they always met in private, scheduled ahead of time, in certain locations. 

 

Showing up unexpectedly at a social gathering like this was unacceptable.  What made it worse was the ease in which he was being treated by the other guests.  He was no longer a threat to these men and women, and so they welcomed him with hospitality that was only partially faked.  In fact, he joked about his fall from their ranks as easily as any object of idle banter, and they laughed along with him with great merriment.

 

It was intolerable.

 

Kristoph's retreat took him to a door at the end of a deserted hall, far away from the drunken antics of the other party-goers.  It was a bedroom, probably for guests, with horrible, tacky orange curtains and a patterned bedspread.  Already feeling somewhat ill from the cheap wine and many other discomforts of the evening, Kristoph did his best not to look at them as he paced the small room.  It was foolish, he knew, to feel so out of sorts just from seeing one man out of his normal context.  But he hadn't had any time to prepare, to rehearse for this.  His reactions were not firmly set in his mind, ready to be deployed when necessary.  If he could just have a few minutes in privacy to collect himself, he would be able to return in full form and without awkwardness.

 

The door knob twisted, and as Kristoph watched the door begin to swing open excuses rattled across his brain: he had left the party because…he had a headache.  He felt light-headed.  The smoke and the music and…

 

In through the door stepped Phoenix Wright, the very man Kristoph had tried to escape.  It was like watching a ghost slip into the room.  Years had passed since Kristoph had seen Phoenix dressed the way he was now, in the blue suit and red tie that had been his trademark during his law career.  With his clean-shaven jaw and carefully styled hair, he looked just like the Phoenix Wright that had turned the law community upside down years ago.  That persona should have been dead by now.

 

"I saw you duck out," Phoenix said easily as he closed the door behind him.  The sound of his voice, so familiar and yet emptying out of its unsettling shell, sent a chill down Kristoph's spine.  "Are you all right?"

 

"I'm fine," Kristoph replied quickly.  He reached beneath his glasses to rub his eyes, hoping his ire would be mistaken purely for fatigue.  "I just needed…some quiet.  Now that it's almost midnight it's become a bit too noisy for me…."

 

Phoenix lowered his voice considerately.  "For being Grossberg's friends, they are pretty lively," he agreed.

 

Kristoph managed to smirk.  "They are not Grossberg's friends.  He all but paid them to attend."  He lifted an eyebrow.  "Is that why you're here?"

 

"Believe it or not, I'm actually an old friend of Mr. Grossberg's," Phoenix replied.  "In a manner of speaking.  And it's kind of nice having an excuse to dress up once in a while."  He drew his hands over the front of his suit as he stepped forward.  "I'm glad it still fits."

 

"Really?"  Kristoph's eyes narrowed, and though he was still trying to sound teasing, he was aware of the coldness in his voice.  "I'm not sure I would say that."  Once Phoenix was close enough he reached up, tugging on the old blue suit's faded lapels, straightening the seam at the shoulder.  "It looks a bit wide across the chest," Kristoph noted.  "The proportion doesn't suit you as well as it could.  You ought to have it tailored."

 

Phoenix gave a sigh of amused exasperation.  "Are you going to straighten my tie while you're at it?"

 

Kristoph snorted quietly, and did just that.  "I'm only giving you my advice."

 

"I know."  Phoenix smirked.  "I appreciate it."

 

Their eyes met, and Kristoph felt another stinging chill with the contact.  He had been wrong, earlier: Phoenix did not look just as he had those many years ago.  Though the attire, the basic image were the same, Phoenix's age showed in subtle ways.  There was no trace left of the youthful bashfulness that had once filled Phoenix's eyes, no uncertainty or fear.  Kristoph could no longer even sense the suspicion in them that he had once been able to.  In stature, and to a greater degree in maturity, Phoenix had strengthened.

 

"You've learned a great deal from my advice," Kristoph murmured, half to himself.  He passed his thumb along the line of Phoenix's jaw, testing its uncommon smoothness.   "You've changed."

 

"If I have, it's thanks to you," Phoenix replied smartly.  It wasn't until he took Kristoph's elbows that he realized his own hands were still pressed to Phoenix's chest.  "Or maybe because of you."

 

Kristoph's fingers curled tensely against Phoenix's lapel.  Phoenix had not only changed, he had learned.  The mask he wore now was as convincing and brilliant as any Kristoph himself had ever crafted.  It was, in fact, so well-spun that for a moment, staring into his face, Kristoph wasn't sure if the faint gleam of invitation was forced or not.  But it had to be.  Phoenix's attention to him had never been anything short of bitter suspicion.

 

"I won't apologize," Kristoph told him suddenly, calling into place his own careful smile.  "Because I think it's a change for the better."

 

Phoenix conceded with a dry chuckle.  "It might be."

 

They leaned together for a kiss, and the moment their lips touched it felt to Kristoph almost like kissing a stranger.  Phoenix had to have gone through a lot of trouble that evening for the sake of not embarrassing his host: not only had he properly shaved, but he smelled freshly showered, and there was a hint of mint toothpaste behind the potent taste of the wine he'd been drinking.  For once, Kristoph didn't find himself scratched by prickling whiskers.  There was no mess of matted black hair for him to sink his fingers in, only a finely sculpted array, and he found it oddly fascinating to run his hands over its shape.  As shallow as it was, he had to admit he'd never been quite so honestly attracted to the man.

 

Phoenix must have been able to tell, because he pressed his mouth into Kristoph's with greater confidence than usual.  His hands roamed up and down Kristoph's arms before lowering to the small of his back, pulling them tightly together.  Kristoph allowed it, and even wrapped his arms around Phoenix's shoulders to encourage him.  This part, he knew.  Even if Phoenix was initiating more than he usually did, they had practiced this dance well enough by now.

 

Kristoph was starting to relax once more by the time their kiss ran out.  "You didn't really come here because of Grossberg, did you," he murmured against the corner of Phoenix's mouth.  "You're here for me."

 

Phoenix finally betrayed a bit of his more characteristic nervousness through a gentle chuckle.  "Grossberg did mention that he'd already invited you," he admitted.  "I was hoping I might…surprise you, a little."

 

"Surprise me?"  Kristoph smiled, and tilted his head away so he could remove his glasses.  There was a chair nearby that was cushioned enough that he could toss the article gently onto it.  "We've known each other for more than five years now.  Sleeping together for nearly that long.  What do you have left to surprise me with?"

 

"I don't know, but it worked," Phoenix boasted.  "I saw your face when I walked in tonight."  His hands tightened at Kristoph's back.  "You looked pretty surprised to me."

 

Kristoph hid his scowl quickly in another kiss.  When he stepped forward Phoenix stepped back, until he'd backed him up against the door he entered through.  A quick reach down secured the lock.  "It's been a long time since I saw you in a suit," he finally replied.  "I never expected you to be so…well presented, that's all."  He hummed thoughtfully as he fingered the seam along Phoenix's shoulders again.  "But that was your point, hm?  To catch me off guard with your…disguise."

 

Phoenix laughed, though it faltered after a moment, giving way to a more serious tone.  "I like surprising you," he confessed quietly.  "It's the only time I ever see the real you."

 

Kristoph tensed at those words, and started to pull back, but Phoenix had too good of a grip on him.  He was trapped into another kiss, one that was slow, almost tender--maybe even sincere.  It surprised him enough that for a moment he couldn't even return it.  An unfamiliar shiver ran the length of his body and left him frightened.  Phoenix's lips tasted too much like honest affection, and of the many things he hadn't been prepared for that evening that was the worst.

 

"Come on," Phoenix urged, and his companion was so uncharacteristically shaken that he was able to push away from the door and turn them around.  "We'll be back before the ball drops."

 

Kristoph blinked hazily, but when he looked over Phoenix's shoulder and saw the bed he was trying to be led to, he quickly braced his feet and refused to be budged.  "No," he said sharply.  If he let Phoenix touch him now, something would break way--he was sure of it.  "I'm…."  His voice tipped with forced disgust.  "I'm not doing anything in Grossberg's bed."

 

Phoenix chuckled, his nimble fingers slipping beneath Kristoph's suit coat to get that much closer to his skin.  "This is the guest bedroom.  He doesn't sleep here."

 

"Any of Grossberg's beds," Kristoph persisted tersely.

 

"All right."

 

Phoenix shifted his weight suddenly, pressing forward, and Kristoph was concentrating so hard on not being tugged toward the bed that he fell back easily beneath that pressure.  They fell back against the door with a gentle thump, this time with Kristoph as the one pinned.

 

"We'll just stay here, then," Phoenix suggested, leaning in for another kiss.

 

Kristoph hummed between them in protest, but Phoenix was pressing into him too insistently for him to urge him off; he could do it, but it would require enough of his strength that Phoenix would suspected he was honestly distressed.  There was only one method of defense left to him: to beat Phoenix at his own game.  Phoenix would relent to him.  He always did.

 

Kristoph recalled his wits, smoothing Phoenix's gentle, romantic affection with his own hungry and passionate kiss.  His fingers kneaded into the base of Phoenix's skull to keep him from trying to retreat, though as he'd expected, Phoenix made no attempt to.  When Kristoph rubbed his knee against the inside of Phoenix's thighs, he trembled, and shifted his feet further apart in welcome.

 

But even if some part of Phoenix seemed ready to surrender, the rest of him was not quite so willing.  He pressed up on the balls of his feet, with the help of his hands against the door, pressing their mouths firmly together.  The scrape of his teeth made Kristoph's pulse quicken.  This was better.  Raw passion was easier to return than whatever Phoenix had been trying to convey earlier, and for a moment, at least, Kristoph felt that he was firmly back in control of himself.

 

"We'll have to be quick," Phoenix murmured, rubbing Kristoph's ribs.  He slid his hands down to his belt buckle.  "They'll start to miss us soon."  He smirked against Kristoph's cheek.  "I think a few of the ladies will be looking for someone in particular to kiss, come midnight."

 

Kristoph let his head fall back against the door, just massaging Phoenix's shoulders as he waited for him to unzip them both.  "You were just as popular out there as me," he replied, not without bitterness.  "Even if they were mocking you behind your back.  You shouldn't have come here--you can see me any time without having to put up with that."

 

"That almost sounded like you feel sorry for me," Phoenix replied dryly.  He finished undoing Kristoph's pants and started on his own.  "I know you were making just as many jokes about me as them."

 

"That's not true."  Kristoph's eyes thinned.  "I've always defended you.  You know that."

 

Phoenix's breath fell over his chin with a sigh.  "I'm not sure that's the right word for it.  But yeah, I know."

 

He pushed Kristoph's underwear down and wrapped strong fingers around his cock, giving it a few quick strokes.  Kristoph hadn't expected such aggressive contact so soon, and he hissed through his teeth as his body quickly responded.  Phoenix's hands weren't as rough as they usually felt, and the thought that extra care had been devoted to them was embarrassingly arousing.  A light, playful tickle of freshly clipped nails made Kristoph squirm against the wood at his back.

 

"I thought you'd like that," Phoenix chuckled.  When he leaned forward his own hardening erection rubbed enticingly against Kristoph's, encouraging both of them to greater firmness.  "You and your fetishes."

 

"It's not…a fetish," Kristoph retorted.  He was trying to sound cross, but his voice was quickly growing heavy with lust.  He tugged anxiously at Phoenix's shoulders.  "I appreciate good hygiene, that's all."

 

"Mm, that's right."  Phoenix was already breathing hard himself as he pulled a pair of condoms out of his inside pocket.  He ripped the packaging with his teeth.   "Wouldn't want to leave a mess in Mr. Grossberg's guest room."

 

"Not to mention your suit," Kristoph added.  He bit his lip as he watched Phoenix slide the cool latex over him.  "Now that it's finally seeing some use again."

 

Phoenix hummed a noncommittal reply as he covered himself as well.  He took a step back, and as Kristoph assumed it was time to change positions, he leaned away from the door as well.  To add to the surprises already wrought on Kristoph that evening, Phoenix grabbed him suddenly by the shoulder, twisting him around and this time pinning him from behind.

 

Kristoph gasped, his pulse rising swiftly into his ears at the unprecedented boldness.  He knew what was coming next, but he was still ill prepared for when Phoenix slid deftly into him.  The pain was sharp, skating up through his hips, and he would have cried out if not for Phoenix's hand suddenly covering his mouth.

 

"They're pretty loud out there," Phoenix said against his ear, "but you should still be careful."

 

Kristoph bit down hard, catching Phoenix's ring finger between his teeth almost hard enough to draw blood, but let go once he was satisfied with Phoenix's yelp of pain.  "You be careful," he spat.

 

Phoenix shook the sting from his hand, his voice apologetic.  "Sorry." 

 

Not sorry enough to hold back at all, apparently: he pulled out only to thrust again, just as deeply.  Kristoph growled through his teeth as he braced his elbows to the door.  His knees wobbled a little but he was determined not to falter.  As Phoenix took hold of his hips and began to establish a steady rhythm, the pain gradually ceased to matter.  By arching his back he was able to guide Phoenix into a more satisfying angle that replaced his discomfort with deep, penetrating satisfaction.  When hands tightened against his hips, when the pace quickened, Kristoph even uttered a low moan of starlted pleasure.  It was not often that Phoenix displayed so much strength with him, and for once…he was beginning to enjoy it.

 

"Harder," Kristoph taunted, pushing back against Phoenix's hips.  He turned his head, just enough to see a bit of Phoenix out of the corner of his eye.  "Don't you want to see… the real me?"

 

Phoenix made a low noise at the back of his throat that Kristoph couldn't identify as belonging to any known emotion.  The sound of it filled him with a feeling of accomplishment, and he prepared himself, expecting the hips pumping into him to increase their fervor.  And they did, causing perspiration to break out on his forehead as he was soundly rocked.  But when Kristoph tried to express his pleasure with a growl of his own, Phoenix's ever-crafty fingers dug under the fold of his collar and clenched around his thin purple tie.  And pulled.

 

Kristoph was just quick enough to get in half a breath before his air was abruptly cut off.  His heart thundered with the panic at having a sudden ligature biting into his throat, his mouth gaping as his head was tugged back.   It sent a hard shudder through his body that made his knees weak.  "Wri--"

 

Phoenix thrust into him again, hard, and again Kristoph's vocalization was prevented.  But then, instead of continuing, Phoenix abruptly let go of his impromptu collar and pressed up against Kristoph's back, trapping him by twisting his arm around Kristoph's bruised neck.  The heat of his body was unbearable, and Kristoph trembled beneath him.

 

When Phoenix resumed, he was already so tight against Kristoph's back that it could only be with short, firm movements of his overly-anxious hips.  He was nearing release, and it showed in his careless haste.  Kristoph writhed between him and the door, his back painfully arched, one hand tightly clenched around the arm that still held his breath captive.  Even with his eyes closed he felt the room spinning swiftly around him as guilty pleasure coursed through his strained and quivering limbs.  Every time Phoenix struck so deeply into him, every time he felt hot breath pant against the back of his neck and couldn't inhale his own, Kristoph surrendered a little more of himself.  His world gradually disintegrated into blinding, cascading points of light.

 

Phoenix's deep groan against his ear ended it.  Though still forced silent, Kristoph shook as his orgasm overtook him with startling authority.  For those long moments while they clung to each other, desperate but devoid of any remaining strength, Kristoph felt disturbingly close to his supposed enemy.  Phoenix was leaning into him, his breath a hiss that almost sounded pained.  It filled him with a strange, inexplicable sense of relief.

 

Kristoph's knees buckled.  He felt Phoenix's arms tighten around him, supporting him very poorly on his way to the carpet.  At long last his throat was released, and Kristoph gasped weakly as he slipped out of Phoenix's grip and flopped onto the floor.

 

He didn't lose consciousness--that might have been too easy.  He was aware of every sensation that followed: his temples pounding as blood rushed properly through his system once more; his limbs tingling with pins and needles that were so sharp they took on the semblance of pleasure in his weary brain; and the great rush of eye-watering relief that came with the filling of his burning lungs.  There was no greater pleasure to be experienced than the intense swell of emotion that assured him that he was still grateful to be alive.

 

Warm, uncertain fingers slid across his cheek.  They brushed aside the locks of his hair that had strayed into mouth, and then drifted lower to loosen his tie and undo the first few buttons on his shirt.  Kristoph allowed them freedom, having little alternative.  When his breath leveled out a few minutes later he opened his eyes.  His sight was blurred, but he could still make out Phoenix leaning over him.  His brow was knit with dissatisfaction.

 

"Did I really hurt you?" Phoenix asked quietly.

 

Kristoph blinked at him, and had he regained the strength to speak he still wouldn't have been able to respond to Phoenix's earnest question immediately.  It took several long gasps of air to fully appreciate the actual concern being fixed on him.  He laughed--or gagged, as it were, his ribs aching with the effort.  Though he probably wasn't ready for the movement he forced himself up onto his hip.  When his arms threatened not to hold him, he leaned heavily into the door still at his back.

 

"No," he whispered, his smile tremulous.  "You…surprised me.  Isn't that what you wanted?"

 

Phoenix sighed, but when Kristoph beckoned him forward, he obeyed.  "All I want is to understand you better," he murmured.

 

"You will…"  Kristoph closed his eyes.  He had not betrayed himself, not yet, but….  "Someday…I'll probably tell you everything."

 

He kissed Phoenix deeply, just as the voices from the rest of the party floated back to them, counting down.

 

 

 

 

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