Chapter Text
He looked up at Gumshoe again – the Detective was shifting his hands, trying to get a better grip on the strut, but he had his teeth gritted and Edgeworth could see his arms were shuddering with the effort.
“I’ll catch you!” the prosecutor shouted up to him, pushing the ladder away and moving to stand underneath.
“Are you crazy, boss? I’ll break your ribs!”
“You’re going to fall any moment, Detective – I won’t have you injure yourself on my property!"
“Get out of the way, Mr. Edgeworth,” Gumshoe could feel his grip slipping, “some things can’t be helped!” In desperation he kicked out at his superior, to try and get him to move out of the way, but Edgeworth just ducked, and at that moment the Detective’s fingers lost their hold on the wood.
Edgeworth flung his arms out, in the misguided belief that he’d actually be able to break Gumshoe’s fall. The Detective hit him like a ton of bricks and he buckled under the impact, his feet skidding out from underneath him, and they hit the ground with a jarring thump, accompanied by the wet squelch of cold mud.
They were both winded and stunned, and they lay there for several moments. Edgeworth's head was throbbing, and every part of his body felt shaken, loose – though the soft ground had absorbed most of the shock. He tried to sit up, but Gumshoe was lying across him; a warm, heavy weight. The Detective groaned.
"Detective... Are you... all right?" Edgeworth asked slowly. He was still trying to get his breath back.
The weight shifted. Gumshoe's hands sank into the boggy ground as he pushed himself up enough to lift his head.
"Boss?" Gumshoe turned to look across at him. "Boss! You okay?" Then realised he was actually lying on top of the prosecutor's legs. "Ahh!" he hurriedly lifted himself off them, wincing a little as he assumed a kneeling position. "Sorry for falling on you, Mr. Edgeworth, sir! I'll take a paycut, that was totally my fault-"
"For God's sake, Detective, enough of the apologies," Edgeworth said exasperatedly. "Are you injured?"
"Nope. The old bones got a good rattling but it doesn't feel like I've broken anything. Can you get up?" Gumshoe picked himself up, extending his hand out to the prosecutor. His overalls were covered in mud, now, and so were his hands, but Edgeworth was exactly the same, so he took the Detective's hand, pulling himself upright. As he stood, the wind blew and he could feel the coldness of mud soaking into his clothes.
"Mr. Edgeworth?"
"What?" Edgeworth asked, looking at him.
Gumshoe had a big smear of mud down the side of his face, and he'd lost the pencil that was normally behind his ear. His hair was unkempt and full of flecks of paint. But his expression was serious, and he held the eye contact.
"Thanks, pal," he said. "I would've broken something for sure, falling like that. I didn't, thanks to you. I won't forget that." Then he dropped Edgeworth's hand. "Though, uh, I kinda have a confession to make," he grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
"You do?" Edgeworth managed, his heart thumping against his ribcage. This was it, Gumshoe had figured it out-
"I think this subsidence is my fault, pal," Gumshoe admitted.
"No it's-" Edgeworth cut himself off, pausing to forcibly haul his brain off the track of declaring his guilt. "Wait. Your fault?"
"Er, well, I think I might've flipped the wrong valves on your pool pump," Gumshoe was edging away from him, already anticipating at the inevitable explosion.
Edgeworth was confused, now, but he knew better than to disappoint.
"You've done WHAT?!" he demanded.
"Uh, well, your pool's got one of those superpumps that channel extra water into the garden. You know the ones, right?"
Now he remembered. He'd been told that back when the pool was being fitted.
"But it's not meant to interface with the sprinklers," he said. "They're on a separate system."
"Yeeeeah. I forgot which pipes had been connected up to the pump when I took the motor out, so when I was putting it back I just kinda... plugged them all in."
"You..." Edgeworth shook his head. "You blithering idiot!" He bent down and pulled the wet fabric of his chinos away from his aching legs. But they were soaked, and just clung again. The fabric of Gumshoe's overalls was clinging in a similar fashion, outlining the legs he'd had the pleasure of looking upon earlier in the morning.
"I'll fix it, boss!" Gumshoe said immediately. "Two minute job, just need to unplug some pipes."
"And how long will it take for the ground to dry out?"
Gumshoe lifted one foot. The mud released it with a squelching 'pop'.
"A fair while, I reckon. I don't think I'll be able to finish the gazebo roof today," he sighed. "Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth."
"Did I not tell you to stop apologising, Detective? It gets irritating when you're excusing things that are beyond your control. Now tell me," Edgeworth turned to look across the garden at the house. "What do those pipes there have to do with the sprinkler system? Those white ones," He pointed at the white pipes travelling down the outside of the house, into the ground.
Gumshoe studied them. He turned to Edgeworth, looking a little uneasy. Edgeworth liked to throw odd questions his way sometimes, and Gumshoe's replies rarely went down well.
"They're... nothing to do with the sprinkler system, boss," he said hesitantly.
"Oh?"
"They're downpipes - all the water from your sink, your gutters and stuff, it goes down those into the drains."
"I see." Edgeworth looked thoughtful. Then he turned to the Detective. "So it is your fault. You blithering idiot."
"Aw, you didn't need to say it twice, pal," Gumshoe said sadly.
"When it comes to you, Detective, everything bears repeating," Edgeworth quirked him a smile, then nodded his head towards the pool enclosure. "Get that fixed up so we're not flooded out, then come inside and get those wet overalls off - you can't work in those when they're soaking."
"I'm on it!"
Gumshoe headed to the pool, while Edgeworth gathered up his untouched papers and laptop and headed indoors to change. He could see bruises starting to blossom from his earlier fall, but they were nothing major. Once in comfortable, dry clothing, he dumped his wet things in the washing machine. The Detective came in at that point.
"Same again for lunch?" Edgeworth asked him.
"I could eat prawn baguettes every day of the year," Gumshoe said fervently, stripping his overalls off and handing them to Edgeworth to go in the washing machine. He showed none of yesterday's self-consciousness, but he moved gingerly.
"Turn around," Edgeworth ordered.
"Huh?"
"Turn around, I said."
Gumshoe slowly did so. Bruising was starting to pattern the small of his back, a kaleidoscope of purples and browns bleeding into one another.
"Sit at the table. You'll need a cold compress on that."
"It's okay, boss, I've had worse. I'm made of tough stuff!"
"However much you might like to delude yourself that you're some sort of superhero, Detective, you are not indestructible. I need you mobile for fieldwork on Monday, and you'll be more useless than usual if your back is stiff."
"Hey, I still came into work the day after I busted up my jalopy running that evidence to Mr. Wright!" Gumshoe protested.
"Yes, and you were no good for anything, so I sent you home again," Edgeworth countered, setting the washing machine running and fishing out a clean kitchen towel from the drawer.
"Aw, but it's the thought that counts, right?" Gumshoe watched him get ice cubes from the freezer and lay them out on the towel.
"It's the thought that counts, but you rarely think, Detective," Edgeworth said blithely. "Now, take this and hold it against the bruising," he folded the towel over into a strip, taking both ends and giving it to the Detective.
Gumshoe took it hesitantly, passing it behind him. The moment it touched his skin he winced, taking it away.
"C-cold!"
"Oh, give it here," Edgeworth took the towel from him and pressed it right against the bruising.
Gumshoe flinched, but held himself still, realising he would only be scolded otherwise. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Edgeworth was stood right over him, acutely aware of their proximity. Glancing down, he could see the cold water from the melting ice cubes tracking down the Detective's back, crossing the border from tan to pale skin and soaking into the waistband of his boxers. Daringly, he moved a few fingers off the rough weave of the teatowel so they were resting against Gumshoe's skin. Despite the sun exposure, his skin was smooth, though cold to the touch because of the ice water. But it meant the skin was probably numb, and his wandering fingers unnoticed. He wanted to move those fingers again, to stroke, to caress, to fondle... he felt pinpricks of heat break out over him at that thought.
Gumshoe shifted in his chair, raising his head.
"Is it just me, or can you hear something sloshing, boss?"
The question jerked Edgeworth out of his reverie.
"It's just the washing machine. It's a noisy thing." Edgeworth turned to look over his shoulder at the kitchenette. His eyes widened. "Shit!" He dropped the towel, kicking off his slippers to run barefooted into the kitchen, through the rapidly expanding lake of water taking over the kitchen floor.
But I didn't do anything to the washing machine! he thought frantically, smacking the stop button with his palm. The machine stopped mid spin, then began to drain. At that point he realised the water was all spilling out from the cupboard beneath the sink.
And it wasn't stopping.
"DETECTIVE!"
"I'm right behind you, pal," Gumshoe gestured for Edgeworth to step to the side so he could get to the cupboard. He opened it up, and a wave of water gushed out over the floor, sending ripples across the tiles to soak into the carpet. "Need the big spanner," he requested, pointing behind him at the toolbox in the corner of the lounge.
Edgeworth took wide steps on tiptoe to get out of the kitchen, collecting the entire toolbox and bringing it back. Gumshoe took out the spanner, kneeling in the puddle to get to the back of the pipes. As he worked, the water flow slowed, then stopped.
"Good work, Detective," and Edgeworth meant it this time, though mostly out of relief.
Gumshoe didn't reply, he was still reaching into the cupboard. There was a loud gurgling sound from the plughole of the sink, one Edgeworth was familiar with, and for the first time he realised that noise was the washing machine draining through the U-bend of the sink. That explained a lot.
He looked down at the flooded floor. The water lapped around his feet.
"What a mess. I suppose the carpet will dry, but this needs cleaning up."
He went to the garage and got the mop and bucket normally left for the cleaner to use. Gumshoe was probably expecting to be handed them both and told to get to it, but Edgeworth felt it was his duty to mop up, really. As he brought them into the kitchen, Gumshoe standing by the kitchen unit, the cupboard door now shut.
"All fixed!" he said proudly, folding his arms. "Gadget Gumshoe saves the day, huh?" He leaned against the kitchen unit, forgetting his bruises, and jerked away, wincing.
"Would Gadget Gumshoe now care to save his back by reapplying the icepack I abandoned on the table?" Edgeworth said pointedly, running the mop through the water spill until it was saturated, then squeezing it into the bucket.
Gumshoe sat there with the icepack against the small of his back, while Edgeworth mopped the floor.
"Don't you wanna know what happened to your washing machine, boss?" he asked.
"Well, it's logical," Edgeworth said, flicking the mop from side to side with brisk swipes. "There was a leak, wasn't there? You wouldn't have asked for a spanner, otherwise."
"There sure was!" Gumshoe nodded. "You're getting pretty good at this DIY stuff, huh?"
"Hm, well, it's just common sense, isn't it?" Edgeworth said, nudging the bucket along with one foot. It was half full now.
"Most of it is, yup! So can you figure out what caused the leak?"
"A crack in the pipe?" Edgeworth suggested innocently.
"Could be! But nah, it was just a loose collar on one of the pipes, pal. Which is just as well, 'cause I'm no plumber!"
"Who would've thought something so simple could cause such a mess?"
"Doesn't take much to get a leak going when you've got lots of water coming through like that," Gumshoe nodded over at the washing machine. "I checked all the other pipes down there too, and there was another loose one. So I tightened that up. Just as well you haven't had the hot water tap on, boss, or you would've been in for a nasty surprise!"
"And I'd be mopping up more water," Edgeworth was going for a second pass now. The floor was still damp but no longer covered in water. "Though at least if a tap starts leaking you can just shut it off." He'd been saving that for later.
"Boss..."
"Yes, Detective?"
Gumshoe was looking down at the mop bucket, tapping the head of his spanner on one knee.
"D'you think there's been a lot of funny stuff happening today?" he asked.
"Like my garden turning into a quagmire?"
"Yeah, I know that was my fault... but," he hesitated a moment, as if deliberating whether or not to continue, "you know, boss, given I'd wrecked half your garden and knocked you flat, you didn't seem all that angry."
"You want me to cut your pay, then?"
"...I think I'd feel better if you did."
Edgeworth paused mid-mop.
"Are you in full possession of your faculties, Detective? You weren't supposed to say yes to that question."
"I dunno, boss. I think maybe I am going a little crazy." Gumshoe paused, then lifted his head, looking steadily at the prosecutor. "'Cause it seems to me that you're not acting like yourself. And... pipe collars don't come loose by perfect quarter-turns."
Edgeworth squeezed the mop out again one last time, then tipped the contents of the bucket down the sink. He waited, as if anticipating a return tsunami via the cupboard beneath the sink. None came.
"Boss?"
He put the bucket down and turned to face Gumshoe.
"So you found me out," he said quietly.
***
“Whoa… you actually did? You loosened those collars?”
“You shouldn’t be making accusations if you’re not certain, Detective. At least interrogate with some conviction, even if you’re operating on a hunch.”
“Yes, boss,” Gumshoe took a breath, then stood, straightening up from his usual slouch. “So the desk was you as well, wasn’t it… right?”
“Conviction, Detective!”
“Then the ladder chipping the wall was definitely you, sir!”
“That’s more like it,” Edgeworth nodded, satisfied.
“But, Mr. Edgeworth, why are you going around breaking stuff in your own house?” Gumshoe was mystified.
“Why do you think, Detective?”
“I don’t know, boss. You always told me to do the ‘what’ and leave the ‘why’ to you.”
Edgeworth sighed. There were times when he had Gumshoe trained a little too well.
“Then what are you doing here?” he asked.
“Uhh… is this a test?” Gumshoe said warily. He never did well on those, especially when Edgeworth was the one setting them.
“Just answer the question, Detective – it’s simple enough, even for a brain as lacking as yours.”
“I’m here to fix stuff, right?” Gumshoe said tentatively, waggling the spanner.
“Correct.”
“Yeah!” Gumshoe whooped. “A point for me! So what’s the billion dollar question then, huh?”
“Very well. You ready for it?”
“Fast pitch – go for it!” Gumshoe took his stance, spanner held like a baseball bat. Like most of his bizarre behaviours, Edgeworth ignored it.
“If you’re here to fix things, why would I go around breaking them?” he asked.
“Uh… you got me there, boss.”
“Just say the first thing that comes into your head,” Edgeworth said impatiently. He was getting a bit fed up with this now.
“Uh,” Gumshoe scratched the back of his head with the spanner. “You wanna get your money’s worth outta having me round?”
“Augh!” Edgeworth threw his hands up in exasperation. “You’re a hopeless case, Detective – how much more direct do I have to be?!”
“Aw, can I have one last try?”
“No, because I have no doubt that your next answer will send me further into despair. Come this way,” Edgeworth beckoned to him. “I’ve got one last job for you to do.” He left the lounge.
“You’ve broken something else, boss?” Gumshoe asked, following him up the stairs.
“Only my own sanity,” Edgeworth replied sadly, opening the door to his bedroom. “After you.”
Gumshoe entered the room, looking around.
“Wow, you’ve even got ruffles on your bedspread, pal!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t notice that when I was in here this morning. That’s pretty neat – everyone at work’s always saying your cravats are just a trademark thing, but that ain’t true.”
“A trademark?” Edgeworth spluttered. “How ridiculous. I don’t need frippery to establish an identity. I just… like ruffles. That’s all.”
“I reckon they suit you, boss. I can’t imagine you with a tie like Mr. Wright’s. That’d be weird.” Gumshoe eyed the shelves in the corner. “Is that what needs fixing?” he asked, nodding at them. “They look a bit bowed in the middle.”
“Those shelves have stayed up for five years with no intervention from man nor beast – I have no intention of letting you tinker with them now.”
Gumshoe was confused.
“So… what’s the job, then?” he asked, turning to Edgeworth.
“The job?” Edgeworth shut the door behind him. “The job… is me.”
“Uhh, boss,” Gumshoe replied, after a pause, “I can’t fix your sanity.”
“I don’t expect you to, Detective. I’ve been trying to cure myself all weekend and have failed on every count. But you can at least humour me…” he trailed off, seeing the look on Gumshoe’s face. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”
The Detective nodded, shrugging. This happened to him a lot – he was used to Edgeworth’s train of thought speeding away into the distance and leaving him standing on the platform.
“Oh, fine then. The concise version is thus,” Edgeworth said, folding his arms and looking away, his voice descending into near inaudibility as he came out with it. “Your rear end has been occupying the majority of my waking thoughts, and as it’s your fault for possessing it, you can do something to make amends.”
Gumshoe cupped his hand behind his ear, straining to hear him. He dropped his hand, brow knitting in a frown as he tried to process what he’d just heard.
“My ass?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“This?” he turned and pointed.
“Yes, Detective, that is your ass – I’d be severely concerned if you were pointing anywhere else. Apart from your head, given some of the nonsense you come out with on a daily basis.”
“But… what’s so great about my butt, boss?”
Edgeworth smacked his palm against his forehead.
“Detective Gumshoe. Do I have to spell everything out for you? I’m gay. I find your ass attractive. What else do you want me to do, break it down into component syllables?”
Gumshoe stood stock still for a moment, regarding him with a look of surprise. The silence stretched.
He doesn’t know what to say, Edgeworth realised. Damn... Why did I even believe he might reciprocate? Fool. Fool me.
He’d made a mistake, and having resorted to such plain language, a coverup was unlikely to be successful. Then again, the Detective was capable of ignoring just about anything when he put his mind to it – even his own ignorance.
Perhaps it would be simpler to just order him to forget about it…
Gumshoe broke into a grin, scratching his head.
“Aw, gee, what a compliment!” His shoulders started to shudder with suppressed mirth, and finally he couldn’t help it, he began laughing.
Edgeworth stared at him, nonplussed.
“That… wasn’t the response I was expecting,” he said weakly. “Did I say something funny?”
“You sure did, pal,” Gumshoe was a little breathless. “I can’t believe it. You’re actually bent?”
“That’s… one way of putting it, yes.”
“Boy, no wonder I haven’t had a girlfriend for the last ten years – I’ve gotta be doing something wrong if it’s only the guys paying attention to my butt!” That set him off all over again. Edgeworth could only watch, bewildered.
“Tell you what, boss,” Gumshoe tried to say, catching his breath, “you sure kept that one quiet. I always imagined you as being the kinda guy who had the ladies eating out of his hand, know what I mean?”
“Where in God’s name did you get that idea?” Edgeworth spluttered.
“Well, that’s the rumour at Criminal Affairs, and Mister Wright told me that he’s yet to find an assistant that doesn’t have the hots for you.”
“They do…?” Edgeworth was a little mystified.
“Haven’t you seen the way they look at you across the courtroom, pal?”
“Er…”
“No’s the answer then, huh?” Gumshoe chuckled. “Poor old Mister Wright, he sure gets frustrated.”
“It’s wasted effort on their part, I’m afraid. The female species terrify me, mostly.”
“Aw, well, you had me fooled, boss – the way you handle Wendy Oldbag, I thought you were a natural.”
“Did I not ban that name from being spoken in my presence?” Edgeworth shuddered. “Anyway… now you know the truth behind my house’s sudden state of disrepair. I was hoping you might piece it all together and figure out what was going on, but as usual my faith was misplaced.” He paused, thinking. “I suppose you got halfway there.”
“You could’ve just told me, you know, Mister Edgeworth,” Gumshoe sighed. “It would’ve been a helluva lot easier.”
“Perhaps,” Edgeworth admitted, “but the right moment never seemed to appear. So I tried to buy some time. And, I suppose, I wasn’t expecting you to find this whole affair so hilarious.”
“It was just the way you came out with it, boss. You’ve chucked me a few left-fielders in the past, but that’s gotta be one of the best!”
“Well, left-field though it may be, it is the truth. I’m, er, not expecting any kind of reciprocation, but-“
“HOLD IT!” Gumshoe flung his hand out to point dramatically at Edgeworth, who had to take a step back in order to avoid being poked in the chest. “Hey, how was that? Did I do it right?”
Edgeworth looked down at the outstretched, stubby finger pointed in his direction.
“You’re still holding the spanner, Detective. It ruins the effect. You look like a plumber trying to dowse a leak.”
“Aw, way to cramp a guy’s style, pal,” Gumshoe put the spanner on the dresser, looking disappointed. “Just when I thought I’d found the right moment for it too, an’ all.”
“And that outburst was in the aid of…?”
“Well, you just contradicted yourself, boss!” Gumshoe said proudly. “I was pointing it out like Mr. Wright does, y’see.”
“Pointing is pointless unless you explain your point, Detective,” Edgeworth replied, folding his arms. “That’s a lesson Wright could do with learning, and you’d learn well to avoid copying him – he’s a bad example.”
“It’s a good point, boss, I promise.”
If it was what Edgeworth was hoping, the Detective was actually right. For once.
“So… you said just now that you didn’t want anything back,” Gumshoe said slowly. “But that’s not what you said before. Right?”
“Oh, come now – that was the most pathetic presentation of a contradiction I’ve ever heard; even Wright can do a better job than that. Conviction, Detective!” Edgeworth jabbed a finger into Gumshoe’s chest, poking the syllables home. “Con-vic-tion. How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Alright then, boss!” Gumshoe said immediately, saluting. “Conviction! Gotcha! I am convicted!”
“That’s… not how-“
“Here it comes, pal – the Gumshoe Turnabout!” Gumshoe was unstoppable now. “This is my deduction, Mr. Edgeworth: there’s no way you would’ve told me any of this if you didn’t want anything to come from it, ‘cause you’re not that kind of guy, you just sorta keep stuff to yourself until the time is right. And if that’s right, then the truth is that you want me to give it to you in the butt the way you guys like it! Take that!”
Edgeworth snorted, clapped a hand to his mouth to try and muffle the laugh that half-escaped from his lips. Gumshoe looked dismayed - had he gotten it wrong again?
“Ahem,” Edgeworth smirked, taking his hand away once he’d recovered his composure. “What can I say in the face of that? My plea is nothing less than a guilty one.”
There was a short silence.
“Oh. Well… I guess you’d better get your stuff off, then,” Gumshoe said.
Edgeworth’s mind hooked on this, and unravelled.
“What? But…? I thought you wouldn’t-”
“Well, you’re always asking me to do weird stuff for you, boss. This is no different,” Gumshoe shrugged. “I do ‘what’, you say ‘why’, right? And you’ve told me ‘why’, so why not, huh? Besides, I’m not the kinda guy who knocks something until he’s tried it.”
There was no ‘Gumshoe’ in ‘logic’, but the truth of the matter was that when the two words were side by side, they formed the indomitable Gumshoe Logic - a higher form of reasoning that floored Edgeworth every time. There was no reply he could make to this.
“I’m not gay though. Just so y’know,” Gumshoe added, a little belatedly. “There’s a difference between giving and receiving, right?”
“Er… whatever you say, Detective,” Edgeworth replied, beginning to unbutton his shirt. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, that was for sure.
Gumshoe immediately turned around to face the wall, to give the prosecutor some privacy while he undressed. A few moments later there was a tap on his shoulder.
“Detective, you’re never a model of propriety at any other time, so why start now?” Edgeworth couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice.
“Ah!” Gumshoe slowly turned back to face him. “Sorry, bo…” he trailed off.
Edgeworth was standing there in nothing but his underwear, his trousers and shirt draped over one arm. The fabric of his crimson Calvin Kleins framed the shape of his partial erection, the waistband curving down slightly where it was pulled away from his abdomen by the tautened fabric. He saw Gumshoe’s eyes drift down towards it, then flick back upwards again. The Detective didn’t look completely certain, in spite of his earlier declaration.
“Are you sure you wish to go ahead with this, Detective?”
That look of uncertainty lingered for a moment, then Gumshoe shook himself, nodding.
“I’ll do a good job, boss. You can trust me on that!” his face was set, determined.
“Very well.”
There was a silence, Edgeworth watching him expectantly.
“Oh!” Gumshoe exclaimed, realising what he was meant to be doing.
He pulled his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to one side. As he did so, Edgeworth went over to the wardrobe, where there was a coathanger hanging on the handle, and hung up his own clothes. It was deliberate on his part, so his back was to Gumshoe as the Detective was removing his boxer shorts – he had a feeling Gumshoe still wasn’t quite at ease about all of this. But there were no quick movements behind him. Gumshoe had paused.
“Boss,” he said, “now you’ve said all this, a lot of things kinda make sense that didn’t before. You were totally eyeing me up when I was changing out of my overalls, weren’t you? I thought you’d just turned around at the wrong moment, but now I reckon there was more to it.”
“Er… I may have been.”
“You wanna turn around, then?”
Edgeworth felt a slow flush of excitement at the instruction, turning to look over his shoulder. Gumshoe was looking right at him, then he slowly bent down and inserted his hands into the waistband of his boxer shorts, stretching them out and pulling them down.
Even when not erect, Gumshoe’s penis was a fair size, surrounded by a veritable forest of hair – Edgeworth was a little surprised at that, given Gumshoe was sparsely haired everywhere else. The dark hairs made his cock and testicles look pale compared with his tanned legs and torso. The tan line was really obvious now he had nothing on. A lop-sided smile was spreading across Gumshoe’s face.
“You’ve gone bright red in the face, Mr. Edgeworth,” he said.
“Hmph. So?” Edgeworth replied haughtily, then pulled his own pants down. The waistband folded and caught the top of his erection as it passed over, but he was already hard enough that his cock only pulled down a little before snapping back, touching against his abdomen and leaving a strand of precome connecting the two.
His underwear fell down to his ankles, and he stepped out of them, his eyes no longer on Gumshoe’s face, though he knew the Detective was most definitely staring. He walked around to Gumshoe’s left, and bared for him to see, at last, was Dick Gumshoe’s magnificent rear end. He sighed a little at the sight of it, the soft-looking skin with its curlicues of hair and a shallow dip that begged to be traced with a finger.
“Detective,” he murmured.
“B-boss?” Gumshoe was rigid, glancing sideways at him.
“Relax. I won’t do anything without your permission. You set the boundaries – I won’t infringe unless invited.”
“Right…” Gumshoe tried to resume his usual slouch, but his movements were a little stiff.
Reluctantly, Edgeworth tore his hungry eyes away from the sight before him, realising now was not the time to ask to touch, however much he ached to.
"May I," he began, walking back to Gumshoe's front, "purely for my own self-satisfaction, you understand, get you to massage my shoulders? They're a little sore from the earlier gazebo shenanigans."
"Uh, sure, I can do that!"
"I'll sit on the bed, then."
Gumshoe sat cross-legged behind him, the orthopaedic mattress moulding silently beneath his weight.
"Where's sore then, huh?" Gumshoe asked.
"Start at the centre spine and move outwards."
Callused thumbs, warm and firm, pressed between his shoulderblades, plying the skin beneath them while the Detective used the heels of his palms to make slow, pushing movements against his back. Edgeworth closed his eyes as knots unknotted beneath the circular movements of Gumshoe's thumbs.
"You've got bruises too," Gumshoe commented from behind him. "All down your back. Here," one index finger skirted over the top of a particularly achey spot, "and here, and here too. This one's a pretty good one!"
Edgeworth winced.
"Do you have to go poking them?"
"Aw, sorry," the prodding finger changed to the flat of a hand, the warmth easing the ache a little.
Quiet settled between them. The hand stayed there. It was a pregnant kind of pause, and Edgeworth nearly held his breath, acutely aware of the touch. Then another hand touched him on the opposite side, fingers stretched so the tips were curled around his side. He was sensitive there, and his skin quivered a little beneath the contact. Gumshoe said nothing, but there was an air of concentration to his silence as he slowly walked his fingers forward, little mouse-steps just below his ribs. Edgeworth took a shivery breath at the ticklishness of it, felt the fingers pause, then clapped his hands over Gumshoe's just as the Detective was about to remove them.
"It's fine," he said quickly. "Just... carry on. Don't stop."
"It's what you want?"
"I'll tell you if it isn't."
Edgeworth took his hands away, and looking down he saw Gumshoe's hands creeping further and further around, towards his midriff. His cock had started to deflate, a consequence of the laziness of the massage he'd been receiving, but with this unexpected overture it was now standing to attention again. Now Gumshoe began to spread his fingers out, the roughened pads of his fingers an unusual sensation for skin soft and well-looked after. They were exploratory, running over the skin of his abdomen, tracing his ribcage, brushing over the small mole he had next to his navel, skirting around bruises, gentle touches that sent his touch sense haywire.
His breathing was quickening slightly, pinpricks of sweat breaking out on his skin. He wanted to touch his own cock, he could feel the tip of it welling with precome, but he forced himself to wait. Gumshoe's roaming hands faltered slightly.
"Is this okay, boss?" he asked.
"Mmhm," Edgeworth replied, wriggling so he was sitting further back on the bed, closer to Gumshoe's crossed legs. He was tilted a little sideways as Gumshoe moved on the bed while still keeping his hands around Edgeworth's front, the Detective's feet brushing against his buttocks as he uncrossed his legs to put them either side of the prosecutor.
"My legs were going to sleep a bit there," Gumshoe explained. "I dunno how those little Buddha guys do it, sit cross-legged for hours and hours. Must be a mind over matter kinda thing."
"Zen meditation. They hallucinate, you know. It's part of the enlightenment."
"Bet they have some real crazy dreams!"
Gumshoe still had his hands resting on Edgeworth's stomach, so Edgeworth wriggled a little further onto the bed. Gumshoe repositioned his hands a little higher as he did this. Edgeworth paused for a moment, looking down at them, then he leaned back. He paused, sore back muscles complaining a little at the position, but Gumshoe raised no objection, so he leaned further back until he was against Gumshoe's chest. With that, Gumshoe moved his hands further forward until he had encircled Edgeworth in an embrace, fingers interlaced. It was warm, and comforting, and Edgeworth lay against him, eyes half-closed.
"I don't really know what I'm doing here," Gumshoe admitted. "You'll tell me if I'm doing it wrong, won't you, pal?"
"I have nothing to complain about so far."
"Is there anywhere you... uh... don't want me to go?"
"Is there anywhere you're afraid to go, Detective?"
Gumshoe fell silent in response to that. He dropped one hand down, running it down Edgeworth's side. He stopped at the hip, palm cupping against the bone. Then he seemed to decide against it, taking his hand away altogether. It flashed in his peripheral vision, then he felt one finger running beneath one of his bangs from the back, lifting it up and letting the fine, dark grey hairs slip off one by one. The bang fell into his face, then was hooked back out of the way.
"You sure have nice hair, boss," Gumshoe's voice above him had a vague quality to it. His mind was somewhere else.
"I have good genetics on my side. Father's was much the same, though he had his shorter."
The bang was tucked behind his ear, then the hand was away again, back around his front.
"Do you want me to touch you? Uh, you know... down there," Gumshoe trailed off, awaiting a reply.
Edgeworth twisted around to face him.
"Look at me, Detective." He was redfaced, the bang tucked behind his ear now a little damp from absorbing sweat. "Look down there," he pointed at his erection. "And use your initiative."
"Right, gotcha," Gumshoe leant forward, reaching down with his right hand.
He had short fingers but big palms, and he took hold of Edgeworth's cock easily, fingers curling around the shaft.
"It's... warm!" he exclaimed.
Edgeworth normally would have had a catty reply to this, but he missed the opportunity because he was entirely focused on the wonderful tightness of Gumshoe's grip. Having wanted to be touched like this for hours and hours, to feel it for real was better than any of last night's fantasies. He let out a slow breath, feeling the blood throbbing in his cock as it hardened further beneath Gumshoe's hand. At that moment Gumshoe let go, and the loss of sensation made him open his mouth to object, but then he felt his testicles being cupped, which was a sensation all its own.
"I dunno... even though you're a guy, they still feel kinda different to mine. Weird, huh?" Gumshoe gently took his hand away, letting them settle.
"Detective, I never had you down as an individual with a particularly analytical mind - it mystifies me to see it manifest in this environment."
Gumshoe laughed; laid against his chest, Edgeworth could hear it through the Detective's breastbone.
"Guess I think about these things too much, eh?"
"Not always such a bad thing," Edgeworth said casually. "It appears to have additional beneficial effects."
"...Huh?"
Edgeworth pressed up against him, felt the definite wetness of something hard smearing against his back.
"Did you think I hadn't noticed, Detective?"
"Uhhh, I think the little fella's curious," Gumshoe said, sounding very embarrassed. "But it makes things easier... right?"
"Yes, I dare say it does," Edgeworth said noncommittally, realising it was probably better not to point out the implications of this to the Detective.
Not gay. Just curious. That probably sums it up.
His train of thought was terminated by Gumshoe cupping his hand over his cock, rubbing it slowly up and down, and he let out an involuntary croon of ecstasy.
"Wow, you like that, huh?" Encouraged, Gumshoe made the strokes firmer, extending his fingers to harden the muscles in his palm.
He was leaning over Edgeworth's shoulder to see what he was doing, and out of the corner of his eye Edgeworth could see sweat on his brow, accompanied by a look of focused intent. He'd never had anyone so devoted to the business of making him feel this good before. And God, did it feel good - the Detective was pressing almost too hard, but his outstretched fingers created four knotty bumps of muscle where they joined onto his palm, and he could feel every one of those now; ripples of sensation up and down his shaft.
"Mmm," he replied, though it was more of a moan.
In response to that Gumshoe moved his other hand down, his hefty forearms still keeping Edgeworth pinned in their embrace while he cradled the prosecutor's balls in his unoccupied hand. Edgeworth pushed himself against Gumshoe's hand, following with a strained grunt, of one just on the edge of pain at the pressure on his cock - but it satisfied an altogether more primal urge to hump. He didn't normally let himself go like this, but Gumshoe was responding to his noises; and this was a turn-on in itself. The warmth of the Detective's breath passed over his ear - Gumshoe was breathing through his mouth now, quickening to match his own. They were both getting caught up in this, and before the last tatters of his self-control deserted him, Edgeworth finally hauled them up.
"Stop, Detective... stop," he panted.
It took Gumshoe a moment to register this, then he dropped his hands. The abrupt cessation of stimulation was a wrench back to reality. In that disorienting moment Edgeworth wanted more, more of the same till he was coming everywhere, but higher functions began to take the reins, reminding him why he'd stopped: he also wanted something deeper, more internal.
"What's up?" Gumshoe asked.
Edgeworth stood, padding across the carpet to the drawer in his bedside table. He opened it, taking out the tube of lubricant and a condom, then turned to face Gumshoe.
"I want-" he broke off, staring at Gumshoe's erection. "God. You're huge."
Gumshoe looked down, flushing right to the roots of his hair.
"Uh, I, ah, yeah..." he mumbled, trying to shield it with his hands. "Sorry, boss."
"Bloody hell, don't apologise. It's magnificent." Edgeworth reached down and tried to pull Gumshoe's hands away - the Detective resisted for a moment, then let him push them apart. "Heh," Edgeworth cackled at the sight of Gumshoe's cock, protruding proudly from its mane of hair. "You have hidden depths, Detective. Hidden depths, indeed."
"...Uh, ta?" Gumshoe was confused. "But... won't it hurt?"
Edgeworth tossed the condom back into the drawer – he only had medium ones, and a cock that size… he wanted to feel it properly, not masked by a rubber coating. He knew Gumshoe would be clean anyway – they were all regularly screened in the forces.
"Yes, it’ll hurt.” But damned if I care. “You'll be gentle, though," he added.
"Um... yeah! Yeah, you won't feel a thing, I promise, pal," Gumshoe was now back on the task, he held his hand out and Edgeworth gave him the tube of lubricant.
"Oh, I'll probably feel it. I'd be disappointed if I didn't," Edgeworth said, a half-smile on his face.
"So... I put this on," Gumshoe twiddled the cap off the tube and managed to drop it on the floor.
"Correct," Edgeworth confirmed, retrieving it.
"And then you bend over?"
"Correct."
"And I put it in?"
"Slowly and carefully, correct."
"Alrighty. I figured it was something like that," Gumshoe squirted some of the lubricant into his palm. "Whoa, it's cold!" He cupped his palm against his erection, lubricant dribbling down to catch on his pubes as he smeared it all over his shaft and the tip. "That's some pretty weird stuff."
"Put more on," Edgeworth instructed. "It'll be a... a tight fit," his mind was already imagining what it would feel like to be plugged by a cock that size; God, he couldn't wait, he could almost feel it already.
Having thoroughly lubricated himself, Gumshoe looked up at him, awaiting the next instruction. Edgeworth pulled the duvet back and climbed onto the bed, collapsing down onto his forearms and laying his head against the pillow, presenting his rear.
"Sort out my end as well, if you please," he said, voice a little muffled by the pillow.
There was a pause, then he felt the mattress giving way under his knees as Gumshoe got onto the bed. There was another, thoughtful silence. Edgeworth sighed.
"There's one hole, Detective. It's not difficult."
"...Gotcha." A few moments later Edgeworth flinched at the cold sensation of lubricant being applied... to his buttcheeks.
"Stop! Not there - around the hole!"
"Whoops!" Gumshoe wiped it away with his other palm, then put some more in the correct place. "That okay, pal?"
"It'll do - just... fuck me," that came out as a low breath. "I don't want to wait any longer."
"You... want me pretty bad, huh?" Gumshoe's voice had a deep intonation to it, undeniably masculine and yet also sultry. Edgeworth felt his cock beginning to tingle with excitement.
"More than anyone has ever wanted you in your life, Detective," Edgeworth smirked into his pillow at his own irony.
"Then it'll be the best damn sex you ever had, boss - you can trust me on that!"
"It'll be the best damn sex I never had if you don't get on with it. Chop chop, and mind my bruises."
"Here I come then, pal!"
Edgeworth felt one palm, still wet from lubricant, press into his back as Gumshoe raised himself up, then the head of the Detective's cock was pressing against his anus, slowly pushing inside with a stretching painfulness only half-cancelled by the accompanying pleasure of being penetrated by something so large and warm. He let out a slow breath, controlling the urge to cry out - that would just make Gumshoe pause. He was incredibly thankful that he'd given in to the call of the vibrator the night before - though he wished he had bought a larger one now. The Detective was moving carefully, gently, a few centimetres at a time, but Edgeworth could still feel tearing stabs of pain as his back passage was forced wider to admit the hard thickness of Gumshoe's erection.
"You okay, boss?" Gumshoe asked. "I'm about halfway in..."
"Only half?!" Edgeworth propped himself up on his elbows and raised his head, looking behind him, but he couldn't see much as his rear was blocking the view. Gumshoe looked apologetic. "Oh, don't look like that."
"It hurts though, right?"
"Of course it does," Edgeworth replied, putting his head back down on the pillow again. He was leaving sweat patches on the magenta pillowcases. "But once you're all the way in, I'll start enjoying it. Now push harder; take me and pull me towards you while you're pushing - makes it easier."
Hesitant hands were placed on his hips, and he grunted as Gumshoe pulled, penetrating deeper and deeper. Now the Detective's cock had passed all the sore sports, and Edgeworth could finally focus on the satisfying fullness of having it inside him. It filled him completely, and every small movement sent another wave of tingling arousal spreading through him.
"Oh…" he murmured into the pillow. "That is..." He stopped short of trying to describe it - to use words like 'incredible' when talking about Detective Gumshoe really did go against the grain, tempting though it was to launch into superlatives when being fucked in the ass by such a gloriously large cock.
"There y'go. I'm all the way in."
Edgeworth knew Gumshoe was waiting for further instructions, but he remained silent for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of having the Detective inside him. It was warm, and he felt so turned on. Once they started moving it would hurt again, but he'd be too far gone to care.
"Why does this even feel good for you, boss?" Gumshoe asked. "I mean, you're meant to crap with your butt, not shove things into it."
"It feels good because that rather large dick of yours is rubbing against a sensitive little gland called the prostate when you thrust. Why not give it a try and find out?"
"Uh, okay... so, like this?"
He felt Gumshoe withdraw a fair way, then slowly forge his way back in again - sore, but quickly overrun by pleasure. He closed his eyes in quiet ecstasy, then remembered he needed to let the Detective know he was doing it right, so he let a low moan escape from his lips.
"Yes, just like that," he said softly. "Slow, but hard. I'll tell you when to go faster."
"It's... kinda like being inside a woman," Gumshoe said, putting more power behind his next push - and this time the noise Edgeworth made was more genuine, a raggedly exhaled breath muffled by the pillow he was being pressed against. "But it's so tight, and- warm, and-" his voice was punctuated by his thrusts. "Yeah..." this was drawn out, bass, timed with an inward push that betrayed his own enjoyment.
Edgeworth was in another place, now - a hot, sticky, sensual place where he could feel the oncoming climax beginning to blossom in his prostate, that slow burn of excitement, that started off just in the one place and grew till it took him over. He was barely aware of the noises he was making - all his focus was on Gumshoe's cock sliding in and out of him; warm, wet and so big. Gumshoe was getting into a rhythm now, and his panting clashed with that of his partner's, rough fingers now slick with sweat and sliding off Edgeworth's hips so he had to refind his grip with each thrust.
"F-faster," Edgeworth choked out, "I'm close."
Gumshoe was silent, speeding up, grunting as he pumped faster, pulling Edgeworth towards him with more force so they thudded together over and over.
Edgeworth couldn't even try to make noises anymore, he was a sweating, panting, heaving mess heaped on the bed, being fucked beyond speech and ordered thought. His muscles were beginning to spasm and tremble under the waves of his impending climax - it was taking all his concentration to hold himself together against the building orgasm inside him, that prickling sensation that rose and fell with every thrust and turned his fingers into claws clenching at the pillow. He wanted to give in to it, let it take him, but he was holding on for the Detective's sake - some distant part of him knew the man was as turned on as he was now, and he wanted Gumshoe to come inside him, to fill him in every way.
The rhythm broke - that was the only warning Edgeworth had; a second's pause before Gumshoe leaned forward and threw his arms around the prosecutor's chest, hauling him bodily upright while thrusting upwards with a shuddering groan, one shaky hand sliding down to cup over Edgeworth's cock.
Edgeworth arched his back, feeling the length of the Detective's cock throbbing inside him as Gumshoe came, and that set off his own orgasm, the prickles of excitement surging into pulsating waves that pulled quivering gasps from his mouth and sent every muscle in his body into contraction; his toes curled, his fingers clutched at the arm around his chest, his anus closed hungrily around Gumshoe's cock and his eyes screwed tightly shut.
"Oh, God!" the words were torn from his lips. "Fuck me... fuck me..."
Gumshoe buried his face into Edgeworth's shoulderblades, his stubble rubbing against soft skin as he panted and thrusted, feeling the prosecutor's juddering climax around his cock and in the trembling muscles beneath the sweaty skin he was pressing against. He held on, and they rode it out together - the waves receded, and Edgeworth's spasms slowed, until finally he collapsed back against Gumshoe with an exhausted sigh.
"Incredible..." he murmured, giving in to the superlative - coming up with a less effusive alternative was too much of an effort.
"You're telling me, pal," Gumshoe's voice was dulled by weariness. "I don't wanna think about how good that felt. Means there's stuff about me even I didn't know."
"I wouldn't worry about it, Detective," Edgeworth said absently, opening his eyes to look up at the ceiling; he was still feeling thrilling little residual spasms with Gumshoe's cock still in his rear. "You said it was like being inside a woman, so enjoy it at face value."
"Uh... I suppose I could." Gumshoe took his hand away from Edgeworth's slowly deflating cock, moving his arms down so he was hugging the prosecutor around the middle. "Sorry for grabbing you like that - I got kinda carried away towards the end there. You want me out?"
Edgeworth could feel the tight sensation lessening - Gumshoe was starting to go down as well.
"Much as I hate to put an end to our little interlude, I think so, yes."
Carefully the Detective withdrew, and Edgeworth felt semen dribbling down his backside - that was the part he wasn't so fond of. With that big cock no longer inside him, he felt wide open, an aching kind of emptiness settling there. It had been nice, while it lasted.
"Not too messy, I hope?" he asked, reaching for the box of tissues on the bedside table and passing them behind him.
"S'alright. Ta," the tissue box was taken off him.
"Back in a minute," clenching his muscles tightly, which produced another few throbs, Edgeworth scuttled into the bathroom to hit the shower.
He returned to find Gumshoe spreadeagled across the bed, eyes closed.
"Tired?" he asked in surprise.
"Knackered, boss. KO'ed after one round - sheesh, I'm getting old."
Edgeworth chuckled at that.
"I'm sure your vitality will be restored by a prawn baguette or two."
"Heck yeah!" Gumshoe's eyes flew open, he sat up on the bed. "A couple of those would go down pretty good right about now," he rubbed his tummy happily. "Mmmm!"
"I'll get on the phone to the deli, then," Edgeworth said, grabbing his clothes off the hanger.
Gumshoe got off the bed, heading towards his discarded boxer shorts. Edgeworth caught another eyeful of the Detective's backside, and he tracked it across the room, admiring the lean curves as Gumshoe bent over to pick up his boxers from the floor. That was the snag with being on the bottom - one missed out on some things.
"Detective," he said.
Gumshoe paused.
"Boss?"
"May I... touch your ass?" Edgeworth was tentative, hopeful.
"Um..." Gumshoe craned his head over his shoulder to look at it. "Sure?"
Edgeworth floated over to him, hands held out. At last, he gently put his hands against those cheeks, that fitted so perfectly against his palms, feeling the little hairs and the warm smoothness of the skin indenting beneath his fingers. He gave a happy little sigh, resting his head against Gumshoe's back and closing his eyes as he squeezed tenderly, wiggling his fingers to make the tissue beneath them ripple.
"Haha, that tickles!"
Edgeworth ignored his laughter - he was in a little world of his own with a serene look on his face, his fixation finally satisfied. Oh, how wonderful it was. It was a full minute before he reluctantly straightened up, taking his hands away, the glaze over his eyes slowly lifting. He blinked.
"Two baguettes?" he asked briskly, composing a businesslike expression.
Gumshoe turned around, a grin on his face.