#early relationship

He splashes another few drops of mirin into the pot of simmering beef that he's tending to and stirs it around lazily. The first time he'd invited Miles over for a dinner date, he'd worried that the simple, slapped-together cooking he'd forced himself to learn when he adopted Trucy wouldn't stack up to the fine restaurant fare Miles has been used to all his life–-but where Miles has left dishes of foie gras unfinished and bowls of ramen full nearly to the rim with leftover broth, he's cleaned off every single dish that Phoenix has ever served him down to the swirls of sauce on the plate. Phoenix had imagined so many hurdles for them as they ventured into this new chapter of life hand in hand, and precious few had ever actually materialized. After all of the toil and strife they've gone through to get here, he still can't seem to believe that being loved by Miles Edgeworth can be so easy.

The kitchen behind him quiets, and without turning to look, he knows that Miles has stepped up behind him. He curls his arms around Phoenix's waist, draping himself over his back, and leans in to kiss his cheek. It's incredible that throughout all of these years of feverish desire, Phoenix had obsessed so much over the milestones—their first I love you, their first night together, their first trip to his parents' house, their first home together—that he had so often failed to imagine the details. He had never imagined how good Miles's warm, solid body would feel against his back or how his lips would feel touching the corner of his jaw. He hadn't considered how secure he would feel with his waist snug in Miles's arms. He'd been able to perfectly picture the nervous tumble of falling in love, but not the solid safety waiting for him at the bottom. 

Their firsts were exciting, but they didn't in any way diminish what came after. If anything, he's even more excited by the prospect of being allowed to have this indefinitely, to have dozens or possibly even hundreds or thousands of these quiet dinners with the love of his life. Watching Trucy grow up should have taught him this, but he'd been too caught up in himself to realize the universality of the lesson. He never was good at paying attention. 

"Are you sure that I can't help?" Miles murmurs in his ear. He lightly kisses his cheek again. If he weren't holding him so securely, Phoenix would melt to the floor in bliss right then and there.

He twists his head to kiss Miles properly, lingering just long enough to hear him hum with soft contentment. "I've got it, baby. It's almost ready, anyway." He would tell him to sit down and rest after his long day in court, but he doesn't want Miles to let him go. Miles smiles softly at him and leans his head against his, resting against him as Phoenix keeps tending to their dinner. Phoenix sends a little prayer up to whatever god decided to make Miles Edgeworth secretly crave touch just as badly as Phoenix had always dreamed of giving it to him. 

He's been tiptoeing around putting it into words, but it's become unavoidable. This could work. This could really work. Despite how deeply and how long they had both wanted it, they had been so nervous to take this unanimous step out of the well-trod territory of their friendship, abandoning it entirely for new, fragile ground. It had felt like a single misstep outside of what was known and safe might cause everything they had painstakingly built together to come crashing down. It was only once they joined hands and stepped outside together that they realized that this is what they'd been doing together all their lives—taking slow steps forward, crawling towards the light, determined to remain by each others' side no matter what terrain they faced. 

Tony looks over his shoulder as the footsteps following him stop in the doorway.

It's amazing, really, that someone so toweringly tall, so broad in the shoulders, could make themselves look so tiny.

"C'mon," he says, gesturing for Steve to step further into the executive suite bathroom.

"Not sure this is wise..." Steve says, hands fisted together tightly in front of his chest.

"Sure it is," he says, wrenching the taps on full, filling the tub. "If not, you know the saying: fire cures all follies." He activates the tub's jets and starts stripping.

"And we're allowed?" Steve asks, making no move to remove his own clothing. But Tony doesn't miss the way his eyes follow Tony's movements hungrily. "No one is going to stop... this?"

Naked, Tony busies himself dressing the bath: adding oils, Epsom salt, and a little low-foam bubble formula. "It's my suite. Who will stop us?" he says, gesturing broadly at the bathroom and the rooms beyond it. "Look, since you mentioned how long you can hold your breath, I've really wanted to test it. I've planned out this little experiment; nothing is going to go wrong. Okay? The doors are locked. Right, JARVIS?"

JARVIS speaks up, "They are, Sir. Though-"

"See?" Tony continues. "I figured you'd be more comfortable here. Away from our nosy teammates... Slightly more anonymous... A nice warm hot tub instead of a chilly pool."

"Sir, I'd recommend-" JARVIS pipes up.

"Music, you're right! Play something- I don't know- sensual and soothing? Thanks, JARVIS, where'd I be without you?" he says, stepping into the tub.

"I dread to imagine," JARVIS dryly remarks before going quiet.

Slowly, Steve comes over, stopping at the tub's edge.

"It's just you and me, okay?" Tony says, taking Steve's hand.

Steve nods and strips down before joining Tony. Getting on his knees in front of Tony, water and foam up to his shoulders. "This experiment of yours? You think you can last longer than I can hold my breath?" Steve says, a small smile growing on his flushed face.

He splashes Steve lightly in response, and says, "We'll just have to see."

Steve licks his lips and sinks below the water.

Soft lips press against his length. Teasing up to the root. Tender tongue lapping at his balls.

Tony quickly loses grasp of time. He'll have to ask JARVIS later.

Suddenly, Steve flinches. His jaw tenses briefly, catching Tony's thigh between sharp teeth.

Tony jerks, elbow striking the tiled wall. His breath leaving him in a shocked gasp.

Before he can ask why he was bitten, the bathroom door opens, revealing- "Pepper!"

"You never verified those documents. They're time-critical!"

"The door was locked!"

"You gave me clearance to bypass locks."

"Yes, I'll verify the documents."

Pepper frowns, "Is there something I should know about?"

"No."

"-I've seen you naked before. Tony-?"

"Please, leave!"

Pepper leaves with a wave.

Soon as Pepper's gone, Steve rises from the tub, water spilling everywhere. Running for the door, clothes in hand.

The walk home felt twice as long as ever before. They were so worn out. They had to resist the panicked urge to pop the bottle in that shopping bag and take a few drinks. They needed to get their shit together. They needed to perk up. They had an incubus coming over!

Oh god, what if they couldn’t get it together? What if he realized they were sick? If they weren’t any good tonight, then would he come back again?

They liked Gavin. A lot. And not just for the sex. The sex was amazing, of course. It was the stuff of fantasies that Freelancer had only read and daydreamed about before. Their own brief sexual encounters with other people had been okay, but nothing like this. And Gavin made them feel like they were the deviant, like they were just as prolific and skilled as he was. It felt amazing and empowering and fun. They weren’t ready to give that up, but more than that, so much more than that, they were worried about losing Gavin.

They wanted to believe they were more than just a good meal to him, more than just benefits. They wanted to believe they were friends. But the level of worry they had over not being able to perform tonight was making them realize they really weren’t sure.

And if he didn’t come back, how would they find him? How would they ask how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out?

They were lightheaded by the time they got to their building and leaned heavily against the wall in the elevator. The ding seemed impossibly loud.

Okay. They just had to get to their apartment, chug some of that cold medicine, take a shower, and act like they weren’t ready to sleep for twelve hours.

The elevator dinged and the door rattled open. Freelancer walked down the hall, surprised by how it stretched and wobbled. That can’t be good. They managed to get their keys out and in the door, pushing it open and stumbling in.

“You’re late,” Gavin called from the living room, sounding seductive and guarded like always. “I was starting to think you were standing me up, Deviant. I was about to—Deviant?”

Their knees hit the floor just inside their apartment and they dropped their backpack and the shopping bag, somehow fumbling both in an attempt to hang on to them and to themself while their vision turned too bright and the ground kept sliding under them.

“Deviant?” He was closer. Was that panic in his voice? Shit.

They tried to say they were okay and to apologize, maybe even laugh at how clumsy they were, but everything went dark.

-

Gavin had only gotten there a few minutes before them. He’d actually been late, largely because he was struggling over how eager he was to see them. It wasn’t normal. He shouldn’t be that invested in one of his charges. They came and went. They were there for a good time, a good time he delivered, but he’d always been careful not to get too attached.

So, he’d been intentionally late.

And it hadn’t even mattered because his deviant wasn’t home yet anyway. So he sat on the couch and wondered where they were, if he should leave, if they were over him and onto other things…

And then the door had opened and he’d stayed on the couch, trying not to act overly eager.

And then his deviant had stumbled.

Gavin was there in a flash, standing over them and trying to understand what had happened. Their aura was…strange, and they were breathing fast. They mumbled out a tangle of what he assumed was supposed to be words before their body keeled forward in a dead faint.

Gavin caught them, one hand cupping their head before it could hit the floor. Panic stampeded through him. “Deviant?” he spoke gently, picking them up in his arms and carrying them to the couch. With a thought, he’d closed the front door.

He put them on the couch and their eyes were already fluttering open. “What’s happening?” he almost pleaded, touching their face and neck. They were so hot. This couldn’t be normal for humans. He used magic to search for injuries, for anything he could heal, but there was nothing.

They looked teary, pressing their lips and swallowing hard. They flinched, like that hurt. “Shit… I’m sorry, Gav…” They sat up. He stayed on the coffee table, hands roaming their upper body, afraid they’d tip over again. They coughed and tried to hide it against their arm.

“You’re sick?”

“I’m okay.”

“We should take you to a hospital.”

They smiled a little. “For a cold? No. Seriously, I’m fine.”

“You fainted!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for it!”

They caught one of his hands. They were so warm, but they looked up at him so calmly through those glassy eyes and past those flushed cheeks. “It’s okay, really. I just overdid it, I guess. I probably shouldn’t have gone out.”

“Why did you?”

They deflated, looking down. “I was getting cold medicine. I thought if I could get something to shake the symptoms… you wouldn’t notice.”

He blinked. “I mean, I’m glad you want me that bad, but I’m not sure my dick is actually worth dying for.”

They snorted a laugh and then coughed again, curling an arm over their face. “I mean, I wouldn’t say it’s not... But I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Gavin felt like the world had dropped out from under him. He stared at them. “What?” Disappoint him?

“I know you hang out with me for…” Their aura flinched and twisted, filling with self-doubt and delicate fear. “I didn’t want you to leave or… not come back,” they confessed quietly, shoulders sagging.

Gavin tried to absorb all of that. They had gone out when they were sick to try to get this cold medicine in hopes that he would somehow not notice they were sick so he’d fuck them, not because they wanted to get laid, but because… because they thought that was his only reason for hanging out with them? And why wouldn’t they think that, when he’d definitely always put it that way for himself and for them. But they wanted him to hang out with them… Enough to go through all this effort. Enough to put out when they were definitely not into it. There was a lot about this he hated but the crystal clear center was what almost had him choking up.

Fortunately, his deviant was definitely too sick to notice at the moment.

“I like you,” Gavin said, a little terrified to say it and sort of hoping that fever would keep them from remembering.

They looked up at him, their aura smoothing out with hope. It was beautiful. And it had cost him nothing but the truth. “So… You’ll come back sometime?”

He sighed, pushing some of their hair out of their face. “Oh, deviant… I’m not leaving you like this.”

They blinked and then straightened where they sat. “Y-You want to… I was worried the whole sick thing would be a turn off…”

He laughed darkly. “It’s not, but we’re not going to fuck. You fainted from walking down the hall. What I do with you might kill you right now.”

His deviant chewed their lip, leaning closer. Their weak aura even flared with interest. He smiled. They were incredible. “I don’t think it would… We could try.” They started coughing again, this time rooting around in the pocket of their hoodie, dumping little wrappers before coming out with what looked like a candy. They shoved it in their mouth and sucked.

Gavin ignored the way his dick jumped in his pants. No. Nope. He was not going to take that bait. He snagged one of the wrappers and spread it out, reading it. Medicine.

“We should put you to bed, right? The right way, I mean,” he smirked, floundering a little. What did people do with sick people? “We should get you in your pajamas and into bed and then… water?”

“Yeah, I’ll go to bed… You don’t have to stay, Gavin. I know this isn’t fun—”

“Who says it’s not fun? I’ve never taken care of a human before. Maybe I’ll be good at it…” He smiled. “I’m good at most things I do.”

His deviant smiled. “I believe you.”

He shivered pleasantly and scooped them up. The deviant gasped, throwing arms around his neck in surprise when he picked them up. Somewhere between the living room and their bedroom he vanished their clothes, enjoyed their surprised gasp against his neck and the naked skin in his arms for a split-second, before putting their favorite pajamas on them just as quickly. He settled them on the bed and pulled the covers up over them. He’d never actually pulled the covers up before…

For a second, he stared at them and they stared at him. They were so cute.

What else?

Fluids? That was an illness thing, right? He used magic to make a big glass of water and then considered their sore throat and added a cup of tea.

Deviant smiled, their aura practically shining with happiness despite.

Was it so easy to make all humans happy? Or just his human? He changed into his own comfy sweatpants and crawled in bed with them. “What else do you need?” He pulled their body against his, again surprised by the heat radiating off of them.

“No, that’s great. Thank you. You don’t have to stay.” Their eyelids were heavy.

He stroked their hair the way he knew they liked, of course, usually he did it as a part of aftercare, but care was care, right? “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” they whispered, half-asleep already but the answer coming fast and easy.

“Then I’ll stay.”