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Prelude
What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed! Edgeworth had said after a particularly risky stunt pulled by Gumshoe, but Gumshoe had just laughed like it was nothing and Edgeworth hadn't been able to understand back then what it was that made Gumshoe so ready and willing to risk his own life.
Why are we friends, Gumshoe? Why did you stay? Edgeworth had asked once during a call from London after Gumshoe had cancelled their catch-ups several times in a row, When you found me that first time, crying in my office, what made you stay?
Wright had been dying, or so Edgeworth had thought. He'd chartered a jet just to get there in time. Wright was fine. Gumshoe was not. But Edgeworth didn't have time for Gumshoe, not when Phoenix needed his help.
Were you trying to get yourself killed? Edgeworth had asked, voice cracking as he sat in the chair by Gumshoe's hospital bed, broken bones still mending from the car crash, Why else would you do this? But Gumshoe didn't understand. I just did what I had to, pal , he'd said, though it didn't really answer the question.
Hey, when was the last time you ate, pal? I could go for some takeaway if you're hungry. My treat! Gumshoe had said once during a late night session trying to solve an impossible murder early on in their joint careers, You gotta remember to eat. You'll feel better if you do. I know I do! he'd said grinning, and Edgeworth had scoffed but agreed, letting Gumshoe pay the bill even though he couldn't really afford it.
You were alone, and you were hurting, that's what Gumshoe had said, voice dropping in and out due to a flimsy London hotel room connection, and I didn't want you to hurt , like Edgeworth had been some kitten he'd picked up off the street, some feral alley cat that could be tamed with enough patience, love and care. Why? What was Edgeworth's pain to Gumshoe? But Gumshoe didn't have an answer for that.
Gumshoe had looked so much worse in person than he had on-screen, tired and haggard, so much paler and thinner than Edgeworth remembered. And still he had pretended like it was nothing, like he was fine, joking and laughing, trying to keep Edgeworth's spirits up with silly jokes and remarks. Defense Attorney Prosecutor Edgeworth sounds stupid, pal! he'd joked, and Edgeworth had been so angry, so upset with him that instead of reaching out to him he'd shut him out instead. If he doesn't want my help, so be it, he'd thought to himself. But he was already flying too close to the sun.
You're breaking up, I can't hear you, Edgeworth had said during a call made from Copenhagen, just a few weeks prior to the phone call from Larry in which he was told that Phoenix was dying if not already dead. I said I'm proud of you, Gumshoe had replied, voice crackly through the speakers, and he always said that, but why? Was Edgeworth anything to be proud of? Two years ago when Gumshoe had stopped him making the biggest mistake of his life, what had made Gumshoe so sure he was anything worth saving?
He's hurting, that's what Gumshoe had said about Godot when Edgeworth had asked him, horrified, on a call from Amsterdam why it looked like his arm had been scalded, I think something bad must have happened to him in the past, like that made it okay, like it gave him the right. I don't like it when people are hurting, Gumshoe had confessed to him once when they had first started working together, seven long years ago now, and that was the problem with Gumshoe, wasn't it? He didn't like it when people were hurting, so he allowed people to hurt him instead.
Don't be a stranger, Gumshoe had said at the airport as Edgeworth prepared to leave for the third time, Wright's problems dealt with once again though Gumshoe's still remained , call me when you land, and Edgeworth had fled, jumped on a plane once again, back to Europe, back to his life away from everything where nothing mattered because nothing was real, nothing more than a waking dream, his home away from home that felt like nothing.
You shouldn't be on your own right now, buddy, so if you've got nobody else you can stay with you're just gonna have to come home with me, that's what Gumshoe had said that fateful night when everything changed, when Gumshoe had found him and stopped him and saved his life. They'd slept in Gumshoe's bed on Edgeworth's insistence, Gumshoe's arms firm and warm around him as Edgeworth let himself dissolve into tears. You'll be okay, it'll all be okay. We'll fix this, I promise. We'll figure this out, Gumshoe had whispered in soothing tones, and why couldn't Edgeworth do the same for him?
When all this is over, I'm buying you a ticket to come visit. And two years later, he did.
~ ~ ~
"This place is amazing! It's like some swanky hotel in here!" Gumshoe said, taking in the view of Edgeworth's apartment. It wasn't that impressive, really, just a standard two bedroom apartment with an open-plan kitchen and living room. Still, it seemed in poor taste to point this out, especially considering how it compared to Gumshoe's apartment back home.
"I like to keep it neat," Edgeworth said instead, not sure what else to say and leaving out the fact said neatness was a result of the fact he didn't really have any personal belongings, rather than any genuine attempt at any particular tidiness.
Gumshoe was too excited to pay Edgeworth much mind however, rushing over to the window instead. "Whoa, look at this view! Can you believe that's a whole 'nother country out there?" he continued, leaning as far as he could towards the window without actually touching the glass.
Edgeworth couldn't help but smile as Gumshoe craned his neck this way and that, trying to take in as much of the view as he could, which wasn't going to be much considering it was already fully dark outside. "Yes, somehow I can," he said, moving to stand beside Gumshoe.
"Sorry. I guess you're pretty used to this, huh?" Gumshoe chuckled, toning down his excitement.
"Your enthusiasm is still appreciated. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
Edgeworth smiled at him gently. He hadn't meant to make Gumshoe feel self-conscious, yet somehow he'd managed to anyway. A tightness spread in his chest as he took in the sight of the man standing in his living room, present and alive, as he fought the urge to simply grab him and hug him and hold him close like he'd wanted to do for the past two years.
"Well, it's my first time abroad so I guess I'm a little excited. Did you know I had to get a passport just for this trip? I had no idea those things were so expensive!" Gumshoe explained, getting more animated again. Edgeworth was pleased, happy to see Gumshoe looking happy, if still a little haggard and unwell. It had been about three months now since they'd seen each other last, when Edgeworth had gone on his impromptu stateside trip to help out with all that business with Wright and the Feys. "But it was worth it, just to be here with you," Gumshoe concluded and Edgeworth froze for a moment — how was he supposed to respond to something like that?
".....So I was thinking for dinner we could go to this restaurant that's just down the street from here — I've been there a few times and the food's quite good and it's usually not too busy so reservations aren't required," he said, making sure to keep his voice level and neutral.
Gumshoe's smile faltered for a moment, but he looked more sheepish than sad. "Ah, that sounds great, but, uh… Well, I don't wanna sound ungrateful or nothing 'cause I really appreciate you going to the trouble of finding us a place to go eat and all, but, uh, that flight was pretty long and I'm, uhm, I'm kinda tired. Do you think there's any chance we could just, like, get takeaway and eat it at home or something? If that's, you know, if it's not too much trouble?"
Oh, of course. He was tired. Edgeworth had become so used to Gumshoe looking tired that it hadn't crossed his mind.
"No, of course not. I'll just make an order from the same restaurant and have it delivered, the food will be the same either way."
"Thanks pal, I appreciate it."
Gumshoe was smiling again, cheerful as ever. The tightness in Edgeworth's chest remained.
"Let me find you the menu, I think I have it somewhere here…."
"Just get me whatever's the cheapest, I don't mind!"
"Gumshoe, you're my guest. I'm paying for the meal."
"Yeah, whatever's cheapest is fine."
Edgeworth sighed. Should he say something? The last time he'd let Gumshoe choose what dish to get this way he'd ended up getting chewed out over it by Phoenix. He'd been too distracted then to argue with Gumshoe's decision, to think about the implications of what Gumshoe was asking. But even now it felt like a step too far to point it out, to address it.
"I'll just get you something I think you'll like," he said instead, relieved when Gumshoe didn't fight him on it.
Ordering the food online was quick and easy, and even though the thought of sharing a meal with Gumshoe here in this quiet apartment rather than in a busy restaurant full of distractions felt daunting, somehow it also felt right — he could always impress Gumshoe with fancy restaurants tomorrow or the day after (after which Gumshoe would be leaving again, having not been able to get more than two days off work for his vacation), but tonight it would be just the two of them, alone together at last in their own quiet cocoon.
"All right, that's all taken care of. Care for a drink whilst we wait?"
"Oh yes, please! Got any beer?"
Edgeworth smiled to himself. He did, in fact, have beer. He had bought it specifically because he knew Gumshoe was coming to visit, though he wasn't about to mention this to Gumshoe. Fetching one of the glass bottles from the fridge in the kitchen he handed it to Gumshoe feeling pleased with himself.
"Yes. Here."
Their fingers brushed.
"Thanks pal! Got a bottle opener?"
"A bottle opener?"
"Yeah. To…" Gumshoe said, mimicking opening a bottle, and Edgeworth felt like a fool. How could he have forgotten something so crucial?
"Oh," he replied, feeling embarrassed and quite frankly disappointed in himself for making such an obvious blunder, "No. I mainly drink wine."
A mischievous glint entered Gumshoe's eyes and he grinned. "Hey, does that mean you bought this beer just for me?"
"I-.... Yes."
"Aw, that's so sweet!" Gumshoe chuckled, and Edgeworth could feel his face going red. "Don't worry about the bottle opener. I'll just have some wine."
"But you don't like wine," Edgeworth blurted out, unthinking.
"I never said that," Gumshoe said softly, still smiling, and the tightness in Edgeworth's chest returned. He shouldn't presume to know what Gumshoe liked or didn't — the least he could do was ask before making assumptions.
"R-right. Let me fetch you a glass," he stammered, embarrassed, as he excused himself to return to the kitchen where he poured two glasses, noting that this time Gumshoe had followed him there.
"Hey, you doing okay? You seem a little... distracted," Gumshoe said as Edgeworth handed him his glass.
"No. I mean yes. I mean- I'm just-.... I've never had anybody stay with me before," Edgeworth stammered again, feeling stupid. Then — because what was the point of lying to Gumshoe over something so silly? — he added: "And also, I….can't believe you're finally here."
Gumshoe's smile was soft and sad and Edgeworth’s heart beat that little bit faster. Two years he'd waited for this moment to arrive, and now that it was here, well, it seemed he just couldn't stop acting like a fool for some reason.
"Yeah, me neither, pal. You know, two years ago when you got on that plane, I was so worried about you I couldn't even sleep. I kept thinking 'what if I should've stopped him?' What if I did the wrong thing letting you go? But...it all worked out in the end, didn't it? I guess what I'm tryna say is...I'm glad to see you're doing better. It makes me real happy, and...I really am so proud of you for pulling through."
"Yes, well….." Edgeworth said, still feeling flustered and useless, "thank you for helping me 'pull through' as you said. I'm, ah, not sure I would have managed to without you. How's the wine?"
"Oh!" Gumshoe said, looking at his glass surprised like he'd forgotten it was there. He lifted it to his lips and took a large gulp. "Tastes great!" he said with an expression which, though technically still a smile, clearly betrayed the fact he did not enjoy it in the least.
Edgeworth couldn't help but laugh at that, the face Gumshoe had made too comical to ignore. Gumshoe followed suit, happy to have made Edgeworth smile. "Sorry," he said, "I'll get used to the taste, I promise."
Gumshoe's lips were red from the wine and Edgeworth felt a feeling he couldn't explain. Drinking a swig from his own glass he swallowed the wine without tasting it, hoping it would give him some courage.
"If we're being honest…..I was worried about you too," he said because it was true. During Edgeworth's first year abroad Gumshoe had always insisted they didn't talk about him during catch-ups, had always insisted they focus on Edgeworth's progress instead. The second year had been more erratic — both of them busy, their lives less structured, Gumshoe still smiling though his eyes looked sad — and sometimes Edgeworth would slip and ask "how are you doing?" and Gumshoe would slip in turn and reply with something other than "fine".
"What, who, me? What were you worried about me for, pal? I'm fine."
Gumshoe chuckled, taking another sip of wine and grimacing slightly as it went down, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Why had Edgeworth been worried about Gumshoe? It was a valid question, perhaps, as long as one ignored the fact they both knew the answer.
"You still have your scar from when Franziska caught you in the face with her whip," Edgeworth said, reaching his hand out to brush his fingers against the scar on Gumshoe's cheek. For the briefest of moments Gumshoe tensed at the sight of Edgeworth's raised hand, but then he relaxed, letting Edgeworth touch him, tracing the scar on his face with the tips of his fingers. Was it too intimate? Perhaps. Yet Gumshoe had often done the same to him when offering comfort, and that had felt natural, so why shouldn't this? Why shouldn't Edgeworth be allowed to cup Gumshoe's face, to feel the bone of his jaw in the palm of his hand, strong and solid and warm?
"Yeah, but it's barely visible," Gumshoe said, still with that smile, "And she apologised for it too, last time I saw her."
Almost two years after inflicting the wound, Edgeworth thought bitterly. Franziska still used her whip as readily as ever, though she was usually careful to avoid doing permanent damage — hitting Gumshoe in the face had been a fluke, Edgeworth knew because Franziska had confessed it. Why do you suddenly care so much about Scruffy anyways? she had asked as Edgeworth sat by her hospital bed trying not to cry and show her any weakness, He's little more useful than a dog, and Edgeworth had been so angry he had had to leave the room. Franziska had been gentler with Gumshoe after that, though for whatever reason Edgeworth didn't know. I am not as cruel as you believe me to be, she had said, though Edgeworth wasn't so sure. They were cut from the same cloth, after all, and forgiving her would be just as hard as it was forgiving himself.
"I wish I could've taken you with me," Edgeworth said without thinking. It was true, but it was still a silly thing to say — Gumshoe was his own person, and Edgeworth was wary of falling into the same trap as his sister, thinking of the detective merely as a plaything, a handy receptacle for their frustration and anger, or else some toy for him to keep and call his own.
"Heh heh, what are you talking about?" Gumshoe responded, not missing a beat, "It was nothing. I'm fine," and there was no reason to believe he was lying, except for the fact that he was.
"The delivery driver is here. It'll be easier if I go meet him at the door. You just...stay here."
Edgeworth rushed to the door, closing it behind him as calmly as he could to avoid seeming suspicious before leaning against it for a moment, heart pounding in his chest. What on earth was he doing, touching Gumshoe's face and telling him he was worried about him? This wasn't their dynamic, this wasn't how their friendship worked! Gumshoe worried about him, not the other way around, and this wasn't a line he should be crossing so thoughtlessly. Clearly the wine had given him too much courage, even though he'd only had a single sip so far.
He hurried down the stairs. Picking up the food from the delivery driver, Edgeworth carried the heavy bags back upstairs telling himself Gumshoe probably didn't mind that he had invaded his personal space. He'd let him, after all, and hadn't pulled away, and they were friends, and friends did things like this sometimes, and Gumshoe wasn't sparse with his touches so why should Edgeworth be? Why shouldn't Edgeworth be allowed to touch, to feel, to watch the flutter of Gumshoe's lashes, feel the twitch of his muscles as he smiled, the heat rise in his cheeks as he blushed, the coarse texture of the stubble on his chin, the gentle curves of his lips as he spoke? What? No. What was he thinking? He shouldn't be thinking such thoughts.
Re-entering his apartment, bags in hand, Edgeworth found Gumshoe studiously looking at a display he'd set up on one of his side tables. It wasn't much, just some coloured sea glass he'd found on a trip and a pretty tea tin he'd picked up at some shop, as well as a-
"Hey, I didn't know you had this framed!" Gumshoe said happily, pointing to the picture he held in his hands. It was a photo of the two of them together, standing side by side in front of a phone booth, the only photo Edgeworth owned of the two of them together.
Edgeworth's ears burned. "It was my therapist's idea, she suggested I surround myself with visual reminders of….things that make me happy. Anyways, the food is here."
If Gumshoe realised the implications of what Edgeworth had said he didn't mention it. Instead he trod over to help with the bags, carefully removing the boxes and spreading them out on the table. Their fingers brushed again as they both went for the same box and Edgeworth hastily pulled his hand back, embarrassed, as Gumshoe chuckled once again, the scene so wonderfully familiar and domestic Edgeworth found himself wishing every meal could be like this, just the two of them together, eating food out of plastic containers.
"Ah thank goodness, I'm starving!" Gumshoe said once everything was ready, picking up one of the boxes and peeling back the lid of it to peek inside. "Hey, you didn't get me anything fancy like squid, did you?" he joked.
"No, the squid is for me. This one's yours," Edgeworth said deadpan, taking the box Gumshoe was holding and replacing it with a different one, careful not to touch Gumshoe this time so he wouldn't embarrass himself further. Gumshoe's face lit up like Edgeworth had just given him a present. "Thanks, pal. Ah!" he exclaimed as he opened the lid, clearly pleased with its contents.
Edgeworth smiled again. He couldn't presume to know Gumshoe's likes or dislikes, but he wanted to know. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Gumshoe, he wanted to listen to Gumshoe talk about himself for hours. He wanted to know so he could buy Gumshoe food and eat it with him, just like Gumshoe had done for him when he had been too out of it to remember to feed himself, sleepless nights spent at the office trying to solve cases with von Karma breathing down his neck.
"I hope it's to your liking. Please sit."
Gumshoe did as he was told, sitting down and grabbing a fork to start eating, grin growing even wider as he tasted the food. "Pal, this is amazing! I'm in heaven! I mean, I know I said the food they served on the flight was amazing, but this is on a whole 'nother level!" he said with food in his mouth.
"Good, I'm glad."
Edgeworth sighed, contentedly this time, as a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through him at the thought that he was able to do this for Gumshoe. It was such a simple thing — a simple meal not even from a particularly renowned restaurant — yet it felt so significant. Gumshoe had looked so pale and worn out the last time they'd met, such a far cry from what he'd looked like when they had still been working together. It had hurt to see him like that, and it had hurt even more when he'd insisted it was nothing, but what was Edgeworth supposed to do? If Gumshoe wanted to waste away that was his own decision to make. And yet...watching Gumshoe eat now, knowing he was helping him regain his strength, made Edgeworth feel happy in a way he couldn't explain. He wanted to see Gumshoe looking well again, just like he remembered him being.
Gumshoe was a big eater — a guy his size was bound to be, even if Edgeworth rarely saw the man eat much — though Edgeworth was surprised to find he was a fast one too, stopping only occasionally to savour the taste of the food before some wolf-like instinct told him to continue to scarf down his meal like someone might just try to take it away from him. Edgeworth almost found himself urging the detective to slow down to avoid giving himself the hiccups, but just as he was about to do so he remembered something else he used to say, something that explained why Gumshoe ate as if someone might at any point stop him from eating at all: "Detective, that's enough! We don't have time for your dawdling!". The thought left a bitter aftertaste in Edgeworth's mouth as he swallowed down a lump in his throat — how many meals would he have to buy to make up for all the ones he'd forced Gumshoe to throw away half-eaten?
"Hey, you're not eating! Your food'll get cold!" Gumshoe said, noticing Edgeworth's hesitation. Edgeworth pushed the food in his takeaway box around stupidly, a funny kind of smile on his face.
"I'm sorry, I was just thinking, that's all."
"Well we can't have that now, can we?" Gumshoe said jokingly, just like he had always done when Edgeworth confessed to letting his thoughts run away with him, "Here, try some of this!" and just like in the old days Gumshoe shovelled part of his meal into Edgeworth's even though the tastes wouldn't mix well at all and Gumshoe was left with less food overall.
"Thank you. In that case I suppose you should try some of mine as well," Edgeworth said for the first time because it felt appropriate, adding a little extra of his own food to Gumshoe's and looking at him expectantly as he picked it up to try it.
"Huh, squid tastes kinda different than I imagined. Kinda like….lamb?"
Edgeworth laughed again, covering his mouth with his hand, and what was it about Gumshoe that always made him feel light enough to laugh? "I'm sorry, I didn't actually order squid for myself," he said, unsure who was pulling whose leg anymore but finding that he didn't really care.
"Oh! Ho ho, you got me!" Gumshoe said jovially, "I totally fell for your ruse!"
Edgeworth smiled. Gumshoe spoke with food in his mouth, drinking wine from a glass he was holding all wrong. He used his fork as a shovel and wiped the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. He did all this and Edgeworth smiled, knowing that he hadn't smiled this much in a long time. His life abroad since leaving two years ago had been tumultuous, the first year spent trying to recuperate after his breakdown, the second spent travelling from country to country under the guise of learning about different judicial systems, never staying anywhere long enough to truly connect with anyone there. It was a lonely existence, and Edgeworth had spent many a sleepless night wondering what it was that he was truly after, what it was that he was searching for, feeling adrift, unmoored, like a boat at sea with no dock in sight.
"You know, if you'd like to try squid some time, there's a beautiful little place I know in the north of France where they do excellent seafood."
"Yeah? You gonna take me there someday?" Gumshoe said, a wry smile on his face Edgeworth knew meant he didn't really mean it.
"If you'd like."
It was a silly idea. He was being too forthright. The number of off days a year Gumshoe was able to wrangle for himself were extremely limited — what made Edgeworth think he wanted to spend those precious days with him?
"Nah, pal, I couldn't ask you to do that. It's already bad enough I'm letting you pay for this trip. Ask me again when I can afford to get my own ticket and then we'll talk."
"If you say so. Although...money really isn't an issue for me. If you'd like to go to France and would be happy to have me as your travelling companion, I would be more than happy to cover the cost."
"That's real nice of you, but...how 'bout we see how this trip pans out first and then you can decide if you actually wanna take me anyplace else, eh?"
"Fine, have it your way." Why didn't Gumshoe want to go to France with him? Why did he want to go to France with Gumshoe so badly? Then, noting that Gumshoe had finished his meal, he added: "Shall we move over to the sofa?"
"Sure, why not!"
Gumshoe stretched as he got up, his shirt riding up above the waistband of his trousers. Edgeworth averted his gaze and blamed the heat in his face on the wine he'd been drinking. At some point during the evening Gumshoe had shed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, tie loose around his neck as always. Edgeworth had seen Gumshoe like this before, of course, but he hadn't felt like this then…...like an awkward, bumbling mess with stupid, clammy hands that he wiped inelegantly on his trousers when Gumshoe wasn't looking, oddly upset by Gumshoe's refusal to go on holiday with him even if he knew Gumshoe had only done so out of politeness.
"Hey, this couch is far comfier than it looks!" Gumshoe exclaimed as he sat down at the far end of the sofa, slinging one arm over the top of it. He looked relaxed, at ease, like he belonged there.
"High-end furniture often is," Edgeworth said for lack of anything better to say, sitting down stiffly at the opposite end leaving plenty of space between them.
"Oh, before I forget, your pal Wright sends his regards!" Gumshoe continued, "He was real surprised when he found out you were paying for my ticket by the way, it was real funny. 'Why on earth would Edgeworth do that?' he said, then Maya elbowed him in the ribs for being rude!"
Edgeworth frowned. "Well, that certainly was rude. Why wouldn't I pay for your ticket? Well, what did you tell him?"
"Oh, uh, 'Beats me', I think."
A knot formed in Edgeworth's stomach. Why did Wright always have to cause such trouble, insinuating that Edgeworth didn't care enough about Gumshoe to pay for his ticket, as if he knew anything at all about Edgeworth and Gumshoe's relationship, as if Wright and Larry were the only ones entitled to the claim of being Edgeworth's friends.
"Gumshoe…." he started to say, but then he faltered — what was he supposed to say if not the truth, and he had already made that mistake too many times for just one evening. "I'm sorry we didn't get to catch up last time we met," he said instead, a painful reminder of his own bullheaded failure. He'd acted then as if he'd been too busy to catch up with Gumshoe, both of them too caught up in the whirlwind of trouble Wright always seemed to cook up around himself to have time to sit down and connect. But in truth he'd pushed Gumshoe away, using Wright as an excuse to avoid him, too scared to point out the obvious: that Gumshoe was stubborn — too stubborn for his own damned good — and neither man seemed to know what to do, how to cross that gap that formed between them, when Gumshoe was the one in pain. We're not here to talk about me, Gumshoe kept saying, so Edgeworth let him be because why wouldn't he?
"That's okay. You had a lot on your mind," Gumshoe said, sounding pensive. He didn't look at Edgeworth as he said it, mask slipping for just a moment as his mind wandered wherever it was Gumshoe's mind went when he forgot to maintain his doggedly happy facade. Then, catching himself, as if by the flick of a switch his expression changed and he was once again his normal cheerful self as he seemingly left whatever bad thoughts plagued him behind. "Oh by the way, I got you a gift! Hang on a sec, I'll go get it."
"A gift?" Edgeworth asked, confused, but Gumshoe was already up and out of his seat, rummaging through his suitcase before returning with a small gift-wrapped package in his hands. "But I didn't get you a gift."
"Well, you're the host, pal! You're not supposed to get the guests gifts, that'd be weird!"
Gumshoe handed him the present with a grin on his face, any lingering feelings of sadness apparently forgotten. Edgeworth accepted the gift, holding it in his hands for a moment to admire it. The paper was worn like it had been used before, and the shape of the gift was irregular making it hard to wrap neatly, but it was still beautiful to him in a way he wasn't really sure how to explain. "I see," he said, "Well, thank you."
He opened it, revealing a tin shaped like the Steel Samurai inside, and suddenly he felt like crying.
"Sorry it's nothing much! I just- I saw this in the store and, well, it made me think of you! And I thought 'maybe they don't have this stuff over there in Europe where Miles is at', so...I got it for you. It's just mints inside though," Gumshoe said.
It didn't matter, the mints were irrelevant — Gumshoe had seen this and Gumshoe had thought of him, and Gumshoe had bought it because why wouldn't he buy it? That was just what Gumshoe was like.
"That's-….thank you. I love it."
Gumshoe's smile was warm and loving, his attention fully on Edgeworth like Edgeworth was the most important thing in the world, and Edgeworth once again fought the urge to lean forward and hug him, to hold him tight and never let go.
"Glad to hear you like it, pal," Gumshoe replied, and then he yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ah, sorry," he said, smile turning apologetic, "That flight really took it outta me."
"Did you not get any sleep on the flight?" Edgeworth said, sounding pathetically disappointed to his own ears, not wanting the night to end.
"Eh, you know," Gumshoe shrugged, "Turns out planes aren't really made for people my size. Narrow seats, you know, not a lot of legroom."
Edgeworth frowned. He had planned on getting Gumshoe a first class ticket but somehow he'd let Gumshoe talk him into getting him a standard economy one instead. You know me, I'm an economy kinda guy! he'd said, and Edgeworth hadn't wanted to fight him.
"If you say so. At any rate, we might as well turn in for the night. We have a lot on the itinerary for tomorrow, and I would like for us to be well rested."
"Sounds like a plan! So, where am I sleeping?"
"Unfortunately my guest bedroom is currently set up as a study. If it's not too uncomfortable, I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind sleeping on the couch?"
"Pal, I bet I could sleep on your shag carpet over there and it'd still be comfier than my bed back home!"
Gumshoe chuckled, amused, like he always did, though Edgeworth couldn't help but frown again, annoyed as he so often was with Gumshoe's act of airy nonchalance. He remembered Gumshoe's bed from when he'd slept in it himself, after all, and the experience was hardly comparable to sleeping on the floor, at least as far as memory served. Although.... thinking back, perhaps it was Gumshoe's presence in it with him that had made the bed feel more comfortable, the softness of Gumshoe's body cushioning the feel of a thin, worn-out mattress, complimenting Edgeworth's sharp angles as he held him close with gentle whispered promises of never letting go….
Well, as long as Gumshoe was happy sleeping on the couch that was really all that mattered right now, and judging by the excited look on his face, he was.
"All right, let me fetch you some bedding and a duvet then. In the meantime feel free to use the bathroom to get changed and ready for bed."
Edgeworth left the room. When he returned, Gumshoe was in the bathroom, leaving Edgeworth with a moment to himself. He drew a deep breath, desperately trying to keep his mind blank to avoid his thoughts running away with him again by focussing all his attention to the task at hand: transforming his sofa into a makeshift bed for Gumshoe to sleep on. Despite his efforts to keep a clear mind though, it didn't take long for a small smile to sneak its way onto his face as he worked — the thought of having Gumshoe sleeping in his living room, he found, was, undeniably, strangely exciting. In truth, inviting Gumshoe to stay at his apartment had been a spur of the moment thing, his mouth running ahead of his brain as he heard himself say: You can stay at my place. Save the extra expense , like that made any sense. Edgeworth was already paying for the plane ticket after all, it would be nothing at all to add a hotel room to that, but Gumshoe had accepted within the beat of a heart, thrilled at the idea of staying with Edgeworth, even if it meant sleeping on a sofa instead of in a bed.
"Hey, this is fun!" Gumshoe said as he emerged from the bathroom dressed in ill-fitting pyjamas, "Kinda like a sleepover!"
He walked over to Edgeworth, standing next to him as he regarded the bed, and Edgeworth couldn't help it as he found himself thoughtlessly saying: "Then perhaps I should sleep out here with you?" face turning red at his own clumsy boldness.
"Oh, but there's only one bed. I know! You take the couch and I'll sleep on the floor," Gumshoe said, missing the point.
"You're not sleeping on the floor, Gumshoe," Edgeworth said sternly.
"Oh, then I guess we're at a loss," Gumshoe replied, smiling as if amused by something.
"Yes, so it would seem. Well, goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."
"Yeah, see ya in the morning! Sleep tight and sweet dreams!"
In the privacy of his own bedroom Edgeworth imagined picking up a pillow and screaming into it at the top of his lungs. What was he doing? What was he thinking? He shouldn't be joking about sleeping in the same bed as Gumshoe! He shouldn't be dreaming about taking Gumshoe to France! He shouldn't be catching himself staring at Gumshoe's wine-stained lips! It wasn't as if he'd asked Gumshoe here to seduce him after all — Gumshoe was his friend and that was all that he was. And as long as he could maintain that distance everything would be okay — Gumshoe would go home and Edgeworth would remain, and they could go back to their own separate lives; Gumshoe as a hapless detective forever tormented by his powermad superiors, and Edgeworth as a coward and a fool who claimed to hold the truth above all else but wilted and shrank back at it at the face of it in his own life.
He couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning he lay awake consumed with thoughts of Gumshoe until a loud noise erupted in his living room, shocking him out of his thoughts. His heart was already pounding by the time he realised the sound had been nothing more than that of his TV being turned on then hastily turned off again, but if it was then that meant Gumshoe was still awake for whatever reason, despite his repeated claims of being tired. Could it be that Gumshoe was unable to sleep as well? It wouldn't hurt to check, Edgeworth decided.
The living room was dark, all lights turned off save for a desk lamp Edgeworth had moved out from his study to give Gumshoe some light if he needed it. Gumshoe was sitting upright on the sofa, one hand holding the TV remote and the other covering his eyes, his breathing shaky in the half-dark before he jumped briefly as he realised Edgeworth had joined him.
"Ah! Did I wake you? I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, "I just- I couldn't sleep and I thought- but then the TV was on real loud when I turned it on and I couldn't figure out how to make it quiet and, well….sorry."
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. At some point prior to Edgeworth's arrival Gumshoe must have removed his pajama shirt, Edgeworth noted, because he was sitting there in just his undershirt now. The last time he'd seen Gumshoe in just his undershirt had been on a call during a heatwave, Missile barking in the background as Gumshoe tinkered with a broken fan, happily telling Edgeworth how he'd been really busy lately, fixing fans and AC units for his elderly neighbours to help them cool down, and how, in their gratitude, they'd gifted him this broken fan to fix for himself.
"Don't worry, I couldn't figure out how to lower the volume either."
"Is that why it's on so loud?"
It was a silly thing — he'd somehow managed to mess up the settings one day and hadn't been able to tolerate the volume long enough to figure out how to turn it back down. He didn't like loud noises after all, and neither, he knew, did Gumshoe.
"Yes."
The room was quiet for a moment, peaceful and calm in that way rooms are only at the dead of night, the world outside asleep and dreaming. Edgeworth didn't know what he expected, some light ribbing perhaps for being a genius who couldn't even lower the volume of his own TV, but Gumshoe looked away instead, silence stretching out between them as Edgeworth stood frozen by the edge of Gumshoe's bed, close and yet so far away, until Gumshoe eventually said: "Hey, uh...thanks for not getting mad," a funny sort of smile on his lips, "For a moment there I thought for sure I was getting my pay slashed again, but then I remembered where I was and-.... Well, you're not my boss right now, are you? And Godot is-...Godot is-….well…."
He trailed off. They'd never really talked much about Godot. Godot...the man who had slept, caught in a dream from which he could not wake, adrift, unmoored like a boat at sea with no dock in sight. And when he finally had come back to shore, it was to find his lover gone, the one person he cared about most taken from him whilst he was away, unable to stop it.
….He's hurting , Gumshoe had said about the white-haired man in the mask, I think something bad must have happened to him in the past, his arm an angry red and blistered, skin peeling off in large chunks and Edgeworth couldn't take it anymore. That's not enough! he'd said, blood boiling over, That doesn't make it okay! You can't let people walk all over you just because they're hurting. It isn't an excuse! It doesn't make it right! You deserve to be treated with respect. You deserve to be treated like a person.
….you deserve to be treated with the same love and care you show everybody else. "Gumshoe, may I sit with you for a moment?"
Gumshoe looked confused, but nodded regardless. "Yeah, sure," he said, pushing the duvet aside so Edgeworth could sit down next to him. Edgeworth did so, sitting close enough that they were touching. Gumshoe let him, his arm coming up to rest against the back of the couch and around Edgeworth's shoulders. "Is this okay?" he said tentatively, voice soft and gentle.
"Yes," Edgeworth replied, adjusting their positions so Gumshoe was holding him around the waist instead. He closed his eyes, leaning heavily on Gumshoe, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of his clothing, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"Heh, kinda funny how well you fit in my arms….almost like you were made to be there," Gumshoe said, holding him a little tighter, arm soft and solid around him.
"I could fall asleep here," Edgeworth said and Gumshoe's heart beat that little bit faster.
"Yeah… Sorry again for waking you by the way, I really didn't mean to."
"Don't worry, you didn't wake me. I couldn't sleep."
"Oh. Then…was there something on your mind?"
"Yes."
"Something you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Yes."
"All right, what did you want to-..." Gumshoe started to say, but then Edgeworth straddled his lap, cupping his face in his hands, running his thumbs across his cheekbones. He looked so beautiful in the dim light of Edgeworth's desk lamp — soft and soothing, bathed in a warm, golden glow that made him seem unreal, divine, like something out of a dream. Except for once this wasn't a dream — Gumshoe was here , real and solid beneath Edgeworth's touch, the face he'd spent seven long years learning to read looking up at him now with a mixture of curiosity, fondness and trust across its features as Edgeworth's heart raced in his chest, feeling more alive than he could ever remember, even as he sat, unmoving, in Gumshoe's lap.
"What are you-….?"
Edgeworth kissed him. He hadn't kissed anyone in seventeen years and it was just as awkward as he remembered it being, but it was the easiest way he knew of to get his meaning across without fail. You're not that good with words, are you, Miles? that's what Phoenix had said, but just as Miles had been about to launch into a speech to tell him how wrong he was and how his perfect scores in English were proof of that fact, Phoenix had leaned in and kissed him instead. See, it's easy! he'd said, You don't always have to make things so complicated. Sometimes you just have to live in the moment!
"What are you doing?" Gumshoe's voice said back in the present — soft and quiet, almost a whisper — as Edgeworth leaned his forehead against his.
"Gumshoe, there's something I need to tell you…. Last time I was home, when Wright landed himself in hospital and managed to rope me into another one of his crazy escapades, I realised something. As I visited him in hospital I realised two things: one) losing people is inevitable and keeping people at a distance won't shield me from that pain, and two) life is too unpredictable to not tell the people I love that I love them, and Gumshoe….I love you. I love you and I'm sorry, I know it's not fair. I know it's not fair that I'm springing this on you now when you've got nowhere else to go, and I know I can't ask you to love me back on top of everything else you've done for me. But I love you and I had to tell you. I wasn't going to, but I had to, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
He drew a deep breath, once again not sure what to expect. He'd kept this secret for so long, so deep within his heart he hadn't even known it was there until it suddenly was, blooming like a flower equally as beautiful as it was terrifying, grown from a seed sowed long long ago, growing in secret, hidden in the dark, growing with every smile, every laugh, every word of comfort, every conversation, every shared meal, every hug, every touch, growing, growing until it became unbearable, until being apart became like torture, until seeing Gumshoe in pain was like being in pain himself…..
And that was why, wasn't it, the reason Gumshoe had stayed all those years ago? You were hurting, and I didn't want you to hurt, big heart overflowing with love even then, even for someone he'd only just met, even for a stranger. And just as certainly as Gumshoe had stayed, Edgeworth had let him, again and again, silently asking for him to return, over and over, wordlessly, without intention, until their lives became entwined — Gumshoe always by his side, Gumshoe always in his corner, Gumshoe always on his mind. Gumshoe — this beautiful, broken man who cared more about others than he did about himself, who would run himself ragged if it meant that he could help, who would dive headfirst into danger because no-one would miss him if he were gone...
….who would let Edgeworth kiss him, despite all the trouble it would cause.
"Forgive you for what?" Gumshoe said, voice patient and full of adoration as he cupped Edgeworth's face in one, large hand, and it took everything Edgeworth had to not kiss him again, to not dive back in and kiss him over and over until they were both breathless and panting because it just wouldn't do.
"For everything!" he laughed, humourlessly, too worked up for tears, "For putting you in such an awkward position!"
But Gumshoe just smirked, looking at him dreamily now through half lidded eyes, hands coming to rest on Edgeworth's hips, holding him in place as he rubbed small circles into his hips with his thumbs. "Heh, I dunno. This position seems pretty good to me," he said and Edgeworth wanted to shake him.
"Gumshoe, I'm serious! If I decide to go back home, to return to my life as I left it... I'll be your boss again. And if I am, we can't do this. It won't work."
Edgeworth wanted to cry again. All this way they'd come only for it to end here, with a single kiss and a useless confession. There was nothing they could do, nothing that could be done — as a couple they could only work apart. The moment Edgeworth returned to his previous post they'd have to pretend as if this hadn't happened, as if none of this were real.
"Then I'll quit."
Edgeworth's breath hitched.
"I can't ask you to do that."
"It's okay. I, uh, I was kinda thinking of quitting anyway," Gumshoe said, breaking eye contact to look away, that pensive look returning to his face as he spoke, "These past two years…..they've been kinda rough. And I don't want you to think that I'm, like, giving up or anything, I just-.... I think I wanna try something else, you know? Something different. Something that'll make me happy in a way being a detective never did."
Gumshoe smiled at him sadly and Edgeworth's heart broke — he never wanted to see that expression on Gumshoe's face ever again.
"Gumshoe….I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wasn't there for you, I should have been there for you."
"But you were. Every time you answered my calls, every time you called me back... Just knowing you were out there doing well, and the fact you wanted to stay in touch with me even after you didn't really need me anymore…? It's meant a lot to me, pal. It, uh, it made me real happy to know. And, well, seeing you get better, watching you fight your way back from...from everything that happened two years ago….. It made me think maybe it was time I turned my own life around, you know? Find something worth living for, instead of just…..existing. So yeah. If you think you're ready to come back, and if this, if us, is something you'd wanna pursue...then...yeah. Let's go for it. Live in the moment a little."
"Then...can I kiss you again?" Edgeworth said, wincing internally at how silly he sounded in the face of everything Gumshoe had just confessed, but Gumshoe just smiled at him lovingly.
"I thought you'd never ask," he grinned and Edgeworth couldn’t help but grin back, happiness erupting in his chest like fireworks as he dove back in for another kiss, then another and another, clumsy and frantic as Gumshoe smiled against his lips, urging him to slow down and take his time, one hand coming up to rest against the back of Edgeworth's neck as he kissed him back, slow and unhurried, deepening the kiss, then breaking away, leaving Edgeworth wanting more, before chuckling and adjusting their positions so that he was lying flat on his back on the sofa, looking sleepy and content like a cat resting in a ray of sunshine with Edgeworth nestled on top of him.
Edgeworth's brows knitted in concern at the shift. "Wouldn't we be more comfortable in my bed?" he asked, Gumshoe's sleepy expression reminding him once more that Gumshoe was tired, worn out from the flight.
"Sure, we would," Gumshoe said, smiling up at him lazily, then added with a wink: "but then it wouldn't be like we were having a sleepover."
Edgeworth couldn't help but laugh at that, a dry chuckle escaping his lips as he looked down at Gumshoe from above — equally as lovably charming as he was exasperating as always — and marvelled at the wonderful sight of this ridiculous man, committing it to memory so he could remember it forever.
"I love you," Edgeworth said, because it was true and it needed to be said, "I love you," this man who had stood by him, always, through thick and thin, supporting him, defending him, being there for him when he needed it the most — Edgeworth's own heart swelling at the thought that in some small way, unbeknownst to himself, he'd done the same for Gumshoe simply by being on the other end of a call — "I love you."
Gumshoe looked almost tearful in response, eyes glittering and full of love as he smiled up at Edgeworth. "I love you too," he said, echoing the sentiment back to Edgeworth, nothing but sincerity to be found in his voice, "I love you too," kissing Edgeworth's forehead gently as he pulled the duvet over them both so they could settle in to sleep.
And just like that, in that moment, Edgeworth knew he'd finally found what he'd been looking for, that elusive something he'd spent his whole life searching to find — it wasn't truth, it wasn't justice, it wasn't winning, nor revenge — it was this , this feeling, this feeling of trust, of belonging. Of knowing he wasn't alone, that he wasn't on his own but was cared for deeply instead by someone he cared for just as deeply in return.
And as Edgeworth found himself drifting off to sleep, warm and content against the body of the man he loved, Edgeworth knew he'd wake in the morning with Gumshoe safe in his arms, and he was home.