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Phoenix is minding his own business, wistfully and pathetically rereading his texts with Edgeworth when Pearls walks up to him, asks him, “Mr. Nick, who’s your sugar dah-dee?” and walks away before he can respond. Understandably, Phoenix’s brain takes about 3-5 business days to reset and fully process the statement; he wakes up in a cold sweat a week later.
Does it count if they’re not actually dating? Sure, Edgeworth insists on paying for their dinners whenever they’re together, and paid for a bunch of Phoenix’s new office supplies, and only really asks for Phoenix’s presence in return—
“Holy shit,” Phoenix says, “I have a sugar daddy.”
It bothers him for a week. He thinks about it when Edgeworth has a coffee sitting on his desk for him when Phoenix drops by. He thinks about it when Maya says Edgeworth got them all tickets for Steel Samurai: The Musical, on Broadway! He thinks about it when Edgeworth insists on giving him a ride home afterwards.
Phoenix Wright is a sugar baby, and a terrible one, at that: he’s not even giving Edgeworth sex or romancing him in return.
He has to fix this, he decides. His reputation is on the line.
“Come, I’ll walk you to your door,” Edgeworth says. They’re parked outside Phoenix’s apartment now, a gentle rain softly pattering against the car window. Edgeworth steps out with an umbrella, heads over to the passenger door, and holds it over both of them as they walk.
There’s a Steel Samurai sticker on the handle, Phoenix notices. Edgeworth is such a loser; he’s quite literally the ideal man.
The walk to the door is, unfortunately, a short one. “Wanna come in for some tea?” Phoenix asks.
Surprisingly, Edgeworth agrees.
“It is an insult to call what you drink ‘tea,’ though. I cannot fathom how you drink it,” he adds on. He follows Phoenix to the kitchen and makes a point to glare at the cabinets like they’ve personally offended him. “Forgive me if I pass and just have water instead.”
Phoenix stifles the grin that threatens to overtake his face. “Hey, it’s labeled ‘tea’ and it’s caffeinated! It does the trick.” He should probably avoid telling Edgeworth about how he sometimes just microwaves the water instead of using his kettle. “I don’t have the budget for your fancy English Breakfasts. Here, have a snack.”
He tosses a small packet towards Edgeworth. Edgeworth catches it and holds it out like old laundry.
“A Twin-kee,” Edgeworth says, “you shouldn’t have.” Phoenix has the faint feeling he means it, even as he places it down on the counter instead of immediately hurling it out the window.
“Hey, maybe you’ll benefit from some good old-fashioned junk food,” Phoenix defends. “You’ve probably never eaten anything that isn’t from a high-end restaurant with your sensibilities and what not. Live a little.”
He’s lying: last week, Phoenix got to witness Edgeworth shovel a full Samurai Dog (Patent Pending) down his throat when Larry stopped by the office. It was honestly impressive. Even Maya couldn’t eat it that fast.
“Yes, well, perhaps if you adapted some ‘sensibilities,’ you’d know what real tea tastes like,” Edgeworth replies. He pulls the wrapper off the soggy little cake, grimacing and taking a bite.
“See? Not so bad.”
Edgeworth takes a full twenty seconds to bring himself to swallow, then takes another twenty seconds to pause dramatically. “The amount of sugar in that cream should be illegal,” he declares. “It is an affront to humanity. Please stop eating these.”
Phoenix shrugs. “Maya and Pearls love these things.”
A haunted look briefly passes over Edgeworth’s face. “First, your sorry excuse for tea, now, these? It’s a wonder you haven’t gotten poisoned.”
Ha, Phoenix thinks. Ha, ha. “The tea is perfectly fine, Edgeworth.” He drinks from his mug pointedly, relishing in the horrified expression Edgeworth graces him with.
“I cannot, in good faith, stand for this,” Edgeworth announces, “You’re torturing your poor body. I’ll buy you proper tea immediately, don’t worry about the expense.”
Phoenix grimaces. Edgeworth, ever the detective, notices immediately.
“Is something the matter, Wright?” he asks. Curse him and his astute observation skills and stupid attractive face. Act casual, Phoenix thinks, and shakes his head and shrugs at the same time. Ah shit, too casual.
“Wright.”
“Do you think our relationship is transactional?” Phoenix blurts out. Clearly, it’s not what Edgeworth was expecting him to say, if the way he startles is any indication.
“What?”
Phoenix shakes his head, waving it off. “Sorry, nevermind. Pearls just said something the other day.” This is not where Phoenix wanted this conversation to go.
Edgeworth leans over the counter to place a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder awkwardly. “She is a child, Phoenix. And quite sheltered, too. I am quite certain she cannot have said anything unkind that she meant.”
“I know,” Phoenix admits, then pauses, “it’s just that… it might be true?” Why is he still talking?
“Well, then. That’s a different case.”
Edgeworth’s seemingly trying to respect his boundaries, which is sweet, but also Phoenix probably should address this before it eats him alive. He takes a swig of his shitty tea for courage, and sighs.
“Edgeworth, do you know what the term ‘sugar daddy’ means?”
Edgeworth’s face flashes through about five different emotions at once, before he settles on perfectly neutral. It seems he does know what it means. “I… think I do.” There’s an awkward pause, and then something seems to click behind his eyes. “Wait.”
“It’s really kind of you to want to offer your help whenever I need it,” Phoenix starts, trying for damage-control. Edgeworth is seemingly still going through a crisis, though, which is pretty understandable.
“I— Wright, I would never— ” he protests, which, hey. Phoenix knows there’s no real hope there, but he’d like to think he was at least a little bit sugar baby material.
“No, it’s fine, I know you weren’t trying to…” solicit romantic and sexual favors in exchange for the monetary help, Phoenix doesn’t say. “It’s okay, I know what you were going for. I just wanted to clear the air, you know? Let you know that you didn’t have to do all that.”
Edgeworth stiffens. “Oh,” he says, “I did not think I was being so obvious.”
“I know it might just be in your nature to gift things, but I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to pay for everything just for my company,” Phoenix explains, rambling a little bit. He stares down at his mug. “I know it’s not that big a deal, unless you were actually in love with me or something, which might make it even harder to justify because that would unforgivably be sugar daddy behavior, not that I’d be opposed, hah!”
There’s a bout of silence. Phoenix contemplates drowning himself in his mug. Another bout of silence.
Then, Edgeworth starts laughing.
Huh?
“Wright,” he says, “you are a fool.”
“Rude, I mean, I know you’re not that into me, but maybe let the guy who’s been pining after you for years down a little gently, I—”
Edgeworth grabs his face across the counter and kisses him.
Oh. Phoenix thinks back to everything Edgeworth has bought him. Ohhhh…
“I was trying to court you, you moron,” Edgeworth grins. It’s a nice look on him, honestly.
“Who the fuck still uses the word ‘court'?” Phoenix grabs Edgeworth’s stupid collar and pulls him close to kiss him again. His favorite mug falls to the floor and shatters.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Miles offers instinctually. They both look at each other.
“If we have sex right now, you will never beat the sugar daddy allegations,” Phoenix warns. God, he wants to have sex right now.
“Phoenix?” Miles says pleasantly.
“Yes?”
“Please shut the fuck up.”
He knew he was sugar baby material.