NaruMitsu [untitled]

Title: I am horrid with titles. D:
Pairing: Naru/Mitsu
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Capcom and are being used and abused in naughty ways without permission.
Rating: NC-17 (Ha. Like I am even capable of writing anything with a lower rating than that... :x)
Genre: Blatant, shameless PWP
Warnings: Hardcore lemon, borderline noncon. First-person smut, oh gawd.

Author's Notes: Er, this is rather old and bad. I haven't been writing in the public eye for a long time now. Comments / reviews are welcome, but definitely not mandatory.

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The fax machine clicked, whirred, and then sputtered to a stubborn, clanking halt.

It took a conscious exercise in restraint not to kick it.

And I just bought the thing, too. I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. Where was Maya when I needed her? Must've gone for burgers without me. Again. I didn't cling to the hope that she might bring one back to the office. In any case, I had to admit she probably wouldn't have much more luck than me with the faxes.

A soft groan slipped between my teeth. I needed those files. Shaking my head, I bent over the fickle machine and stabbed indiscriminately at the blinking buttons. Nothing doing, of course.

A quiet tutting sound made me jump. I had heard that familiar tongue-clicking in the courtroom earlier. My eyes made a brief, exasperated journey toward the ceiling. I turned reluctantly.

Edgeworth looked mildly amused as he drummed his fingertips on the counter. “I see you apply the same finesse to your office equipment as you do to my witnesses,” he said.

There was variable interpretation there, really, although I wasn't in the mood for it. The smug tone indicated insult, but I knew better. He may have won today's round, but I planned to win tomorrow's... well, if only the machine would cooperate for me.

I offered a tight-lipped smile. Did he just come down here to gloat about the proceedings? “Something you need, Edgeworth?” I asked tersely. I turned my back on him as the fax machine beeped and whistled for my attention.

“Of course not,” he replied. “But might I make a suggestion? Perhaps if you refrained from abusing that machine...” I looked up as he stepped around the counter. He swatted my hand away as I opened my mouth to protest. It took him two swift keystrokes to placate the irritated beeping. Two more and the machine dutifully spat three neatly-printed pages into the tray.

I snatched the papers up before Edgeworth could read the headings. He raised a graceful eyebrow at me.

“Uh... th— thanks,” I faltered. The papers crinkled loudly as I clutched them behind my back. They were my lifeblood for tomorrow's trial.

Edgeworth regarded me dispassionately. “Got something up your sleeve, Wright?” he asked.

“I suppose you'll find out in court tomorrow,” I answered lamely. Damn you, Edgeworth... “Why are you here anyway...?” I folded the pages into quarters and stuffed them quickly into my jacket pocket.

Edgeworth drew a folder from beneath his arm. I hadn't noticed it before.

“Gumshoe said he was out when you stopped in for the updated autopsy,” Edgeworth said casually. He held out the thick envelope.

My jaw sagged and I stared at him in disbelief. The ace prosecutor was running clerk errands now? I felt my brows knit as I accepted the folder dubiously. “That can't be all,” I said. “Why did you really come?”

There was a pregnant pause, and I thought I could detect a slight crack in Edgeworth's stiff facade. “That's... all,” he muttered. His gaze meandered around the office, taking in everything but my face. I resisted a sudden, bizarre urge to grab his chin.

“Look, Miles—” I began, but I had nothing to follow the interjection. The silence hung for a moment before Edgeworth seemed to regain his composure. He turned to leave.

Abruptly, I reached out and seized his arm. Smooth fabric slid beneath my palm as my fingers curled around his bicep. I felt the muscle twitch and my stomach gave an odd flutter. Without thinking, I took a step forward.

His eyes widened in surprise at our sudden closeness. I noticed the halting sharpness of my own breath as I stared at him. He wasn't blushing, but there was a slight pinkish tinge dusting his cheeks. Something about his sudden vulnerability wrought a twisting in my loins. I reached up to brush the backs of my fingers against his face. To my surprise, he didn't pull away.

His skin was warm— warmer than I expected it to be. Another step forward and his back was pressed into the counter. “Wright, what are you—”

I didn't let him finish. I pressed my mouth to his and sneaked an exploratory tongue between his lips. A startled noise rose in his throat, but I muffled it into silence. He tasted like coffee and something else— menthol? Something strong and vaguely minty. Something good. His mouth was slack beneath mine and I investigated deeper, pushing my tongue almost to the back of his throat.

I shoved my body against his and fingered the silk cravat. A gentle tug, and it slithered out of its knot. My hand trailed up his throat. His pulse hammered beneath my fingertips.

When I drew back from the kiss, he was panting. His eyes were wide and piercing, the same stare that regularly captured me in the courtroom. That look felt out of place in these circumstances, so I avoided his gaze by kissing the side of his neck. The slight tang of nervous sweat sent shocks of pleasure inching down my spine.

He could stop me if he wanted, but he didn't. I wondered at this only briefly— my erection was already threatening to burst the seams of my pants. My hasty fingers fumbled with the lapels of his jacket before I managed to push it off his shoulders. He let out the barest hint of a groan when I slid my hands beneath his vest and shirt. His stomach was smooth and rigid, the muscles there tightened from nerves, and maybe something else as well.

I had to pause and let waves of dizziness break over me. Edgeworth's chest heaved beneath my palms. I brushed my thumb against one nipple while I freed the other hand and undid the tiny black buttons on his vest.

He muttered something under his breath. I turned my head to tongue his ear, licking at the shallow grooves before capturing the lobe between my teeth. “What?” I whispered. My breath rasped with arousal as I parted the vest and set to work on the buttons of his dress shirt.

“Ridiculous, I said,” he repeated airily. He jerked his head and my teeth grazed his ear, drawing a thin line of blood. I watched it trickle down his neck and licked it away before it could stain his pressed collar.

“Ridiculous... indeed,” I murmured. The last button slid from its buttonhole and the shirt fell open to bare perfect, pale skin. I ground my hips against him and rubbed both thumbs over his nipples. They hardened beneath the rough touch. I dug my fingers into his ribs and he shuddered against me.

He raised his arms and placed his hands in the crooks of my elbows, but he didn't push me away. I leaned back a bit to watch his face. His eyes were half-lidded and silvery. With deliberate slowness, I slid my palms down his body and traced along the top of his waistband.

Every move required a conscious effort. It was all I could do to prevent myself from ripping his clothes off. The pounding heat in my gut intensified as I undid his belt buckle and lowered the zipper. I wound a hand around his back and trekked downwards.

Blunt fingernails dug into my arms as I followed the cleft of his ass and brushed lightly against the resisting hole. “Don't, Wri—”

He bit the words off and gasped as I pushed a finger inside him. He was hot and tight and I nearly came as he clenched around the invasion. His teeth ground audibly as I spread him open. I took a breath and willed some self-control into my movements. I worked the single finger slowly. My own cock was so hard it hurt; the constricting pain fought its way up into my belly. Edgeworth's body was rigid as he clutched my arms.

Carefully, I pulled out and placed my hands on his hips. I pushed his pants down and bent him backwards until he was almost prostrate on the counter. I popped the top button off my own trousers in my haste to undo them, but I was beyond caring. I shoved Edgeworth's thighs apart and slid my arm beneath his knee. He gave me a fierce glare and then let out a hoarse moan as I pushed two fingers back into him, twisting against his resistance. He let his head fall back and thud gently against the countertop.

I worked in up to the knuckle and wriggled to dilate. His body milked back, whether or not of his own accord, I couldn't be sure— all I knew was that I was aching, throbbing to bury myself in that heat. I pulled out swiftly and guided the head of my cock to the opened orifice, slicking pre-cum over the head with one thumb. I bent forward and mouthed his throat as I pushed against him. The warm flesh beneath my tongue vibrated when he moaned. The thick shaft parted the sheets of muscle and I gasped as the clenching heat enclosed me.

I moved hungrily back to his face and devoured his mouth as I pushed slowly into him. Dull fire stabbed up my groin, and the pleasure intoxicated me. He panted beneath my crushing kiss and his tongue moved languidly against mine, probably in search of breath. I drank it away from him as I shoved my hips against his ass.

He stifled a cry as I pulled back and then thrust in harder, faster— my careful control slipped out of grasp. My movements crescendoed in a buildup of arousal and I bit his lip and tasted copper. One hand pinched the back of his knee while the other skated over his quivering abdomen.

His skin was hot and glossy with sweat. His body heaved against me and my nerves leapt and frayed— he was so tight it was painful. I throbbed within the layers of contracting warmth. Breathless from waves of euphoria, my rhythmic thrusts grew fervid. The searing heat of his body clutching at my cock nearly pushed me over the edge with every stroke.

My fingers dug into his leg, probably hard enough to leave bruises. I grabbed his ass with my other hand and raised his hips off the counter. My breath hitched as I pressed my forehead against his taut chest and squeezed my eyes closed. I could feel his heart beat wildly. Ragged gasps tore from his throat as I fucked him— I was aware of my relentless pace, but powerless and unwilling to slow it.

I bucked against him and shoved in one final time before little white lights burst beneath my eyelids. I may have groaned— or yelled— when I came, but all I could hear was the pounding of blood in my head and Edgeworth's uneven gasps.

I allowed the languid wash of heat to dissipate as I pressed my weight into him. Slowly, I pulled out and staggered back. I collapsed into the leather office chair and waited for my breathing to return to normal.

Several moments dragged by before Edgeworth struggled to sit up. He grimaced and his face was pained and angry. “Wright, you...” he growled.

I reached across the desk for the obligatory box of tissues. I folded several of them and wiped myself carefully before tugging my pants back up. I pulled the zipper up, but the button was gone. I would have to search the floor for it later; I buckled my belt.

Edgeworth slid stiffly off the counter and yanked his pants on. I could tell he was in pain. I stood up and stepped toward him. He didn't move, but the grimly calculating light had already returned to his eyes.

I was impressed. The man was a testament to contradiction. Still...

He shrugged his jacket back on in a quick, furious motion. He buttoned it deftly over his still-open shirt and vest.

“E— Edgeworth—”

“Wright,” he interrupted sharply, and I started. Where did this awkwardness come from? The situation had spiraled out of my grasp within the space of a few uncomfortable moments.

“Do you...” he paused. I stared at him, and felt a flush crawl up my cheeks.

“What I really came to ask you... do you truly believe your client is innocent?”

I was aware of the ridiculous expression plastered across my face, but it took me a few moments to compose it into nonchalant confidence. “Of... of course,” I said. “And I'll be proving it in court tomorrow.” My voice regained its certainty, and I was grateful.

Edgeworth gave a wry smile. “Those faxes?”

“Right,” I replied. “You'll probably be regretting helping me with the fax machine...”

Edgeworth shrugged. “Don't be too sure,” he said. He turned on his heel and stalked stiffly toward the door. He jerked it open and gave me a small smile as he backed out. “See you in court tomorrow, Wright.”

I sank back into the chair as the door clicked shut behind him. I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. Confusion pressed in on me and I wallowed in it.

Miles Edgeworth...

You are truly an enigma.