( No Title )
Bad Company (Better Than No Company) (2782 words) by thesavagesabretooth
Summary: When Miles is too busy to visit him, Phoenix takes solace in dependable Kristoph Gavin.
–
Day Unknown, ?:?? pm
The hazy room smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap booze, as it always did. Nick was sprawled across the couch, and there was a warm weight on top of him– Kristoph Gavin’s slender form.
Nick wrapped his arms around him, and drank in the smell of his hair, which cut through the acrid scent of the room, floral and light.
“I’m glad you could come over tonight, Kris.”
“Lonely, Nick?” Kristoph murmured. He cupped the rough, stubbled curve of Nick’s jaw with his soft, delicate hand. “Don’t worry. I’m a busy man, but I always have time for you.”
Nick turned his head and kissed Kristoph’s soft, peppermint chapstick lips roughly.
There was Kristoph twisting the knife. Reminding him that while Nick had nothing to do, Kristoph had places to be. He was an important man. He deigned to be here for NIck.
It was true, of course, and probably more innocent than the suspicious drunken mind of Phoenix Wright imagined it to be. Kristoph Gavin was so nice, he was so kind. He was always there for Phoenix, and for Trucy when no one else was.
Miles, of course, was there for Nick too– when he could be. But Miles was the kind of busy man who couldn’t always have time for him. Who didn’t make time for him when there wasn’t any.
Maybe that was all Kristoph was reminding him of.
Phoenix broke the kiss and slipped his arms under Kris’ armpits, pulling him up further into his lap.
“C’mere, prettyface,” he murmured, sure his speech was slurring a little. “You know if I have my way you’ll be up all night Mr. Busy Man.”
It was cruel of Nick– petty– he knew this. But he liked to keep Kristoph up all night, on nights he knew he had work in the morning. He liked to imagine Kristoph dragging himself into the office with an aching head and a blurry mind, staring at paperwork that didn’t make any sense.
Maybe he was hoping he could make perfect, beautiful Kristoph make a mistake too.
Kris just laughed and kissed Nick’s mouth again, breath sweet on his drunken face. “That’s alright, Nick, I know what coffee is. I’ll be fine. I’m happy to keep you company."
Not exactly the answer Nick was hoping for. He kissed him harder, and roughly grabbed at the collar of his suit jacket, jerking it down over his shoulders and starting to strip him as they made out on the couch.
Kristoph made a low, pleased noise, holding his arms stiffly for Nick to pull him free of the jacket, and once it was off, he shoved his hands up under Nick’s sweatshirt, rubbing the soft, slightly doughy flesh of his stomach, and the trail where the hair led up it to his chest.
It sent a shiver through Nick, but he didn’t like it. Not tonight. Sometimes he liked it when the beautiful, slender man took the control away from him, and left him breathless and spent. But tonight, Phoenix wanted that power for himself. He wanted to unwind the soft, smug man and leave him a puddle, whimpering Nick’s name on his lips.
He grabbed Kristoph’s wrists hard.
"Hands off, Kris,” he growled, leering in his face.
Kristoph flushed and Nick could feel the hair on his wrists prickling under his fingers. “You’re in a mood tonight, Nick.”
“You like it.”
“I can’t deny that.” He smiled angelically, a flush in his cheeks.
“Good. So keep your hands to yourself, got it?”
“Yes, Mr. Wright.”
Discussion ¬