A/N: Well, it's been a while, huh? Anyway, this was written for LJ's Gyakuten Saiban swap (found at gyakusai_swap... which means that yes, gasp, this isn't a kink meme fic!)... I got Ploppers, whose request was the following: I want Phoenix and Miles celebrating their first Christmas together. They've just started dating a while ago and are still fairly shy around each other. Something cute and awkward and sappy. Maybe some conveniently placed mistletoe... No smut please. So... yup, this is me trying to fill that. Sadly, Christmas is now over, so this is belated, but hopefully someone still enjoys. Also, no, I couldn't think of a better title.

Of Peppermint, Mistletoe, and Ridiculous Puns

"Hey, Miles, you're not kicking me out now too, are you?"

It was, he had thought, a question that should have been easy to answer. Of course I am, Wright, don't be ridiculous, he'd planned on saying. He'd just held a Christmas party (against his will), for Christ's sakes. He was tired and cranky and most definitely no longer in the mood for company. Besides, what on earth did Phoenix have in mind? What was he expecting them to do? Sit? Cuddle?

No, no, Miles Edgeworth was not cut out for that sort of thing. He wanted nothing more right now than to go upstairs and curl up with the latest hot book (according to The National Law Journal, anyway), putting out of his mind the horrible memories of a drunken Larry trying to hit on his sister mere hours before, alone and comfortable and free from any social obligations.

But looking at Wright now, standing there with a Santa hat perched over his spiky hair and still holding the last bits of trash from the party earlier, grinning that damned smile at him, he couldn't bring himself to refuse. Besides, wasn't it part of his new role as boyfriend that he at least attempt to spend time with his significant other? Or something?

"Of course I'm not, Wright, don't be ridiculous," he heard himself say. A deep breath. "I, er, welcome the opportunity to spend more time with you."

Phoenix snorted at that, and Miles reddened—did it really come out that badly? "Okay, if you say so," he replied, rolling his eyes but smiling a bit nonetheless. He turned to dump the paper plates into the trash bin before looking back at him, placing his hands against his hips. "Alright, then, Mr. I-Want-to-Spend-More-Time-with-You, what should we do?"

"How should I know?" Miles grumbled. "This was your idea, if I recall correctly."

"Yes," Wright began, approaching him slowly and tapping him very deliberately on the nose, causing him to scowl, "but you're the host, remember? You should be prepared for this sort of stuff."

"I'm always prepared."

Phoenix grinned. Now that he was much closer, Miles could see that there seemed to be something stuck in his teeth. "I'll need evidence of that."

Miles huffed. "Must you carry the courtroom talk into normal conversation?" When Phoenix just nodded happily, he shook his head and crossed his arms, attempting to smirk a little. "Then go to the bathroom and get rid of that piece of food wedged between your front teeth. It's unsightly." Normally he'd wait until they were about to part ways, leaving him with a "By the way, Wright, there's been something caught in your teeth all night", but now he desperately needed to buy some time with which to come up with something.

"I—w-what?" Phoenix sputtered, immediately reaching a hand up to stick a fingernail into his mouth. Miles pushed him in the direction of the bathroom, making sure the fool was actually using floss instead of just standing in the doorway picking at whatever it was before turning back to the living room, panicking slightly. What sort of things did a couple consisting of two men who were supposed to be rivals get up to after spending an evening together? And on Christmas Eve, no less? The combined powers of Larry and Gumshoe had given him enough of a headache that drinking would just make it worse, and he certainly wasn't prepared to do anything that would involve… manhoods. Not to mention he wasn't into movies, and Phoenix would never agree to a Steel Samurai marathon lasting until dawn (which was why he was taping it right now).

He'd just ruled out the possibility of roasting chestnuts over an open fire (the idea was utterly stupid, anyway—open fires were dangerous, especially indoors) when Phoenix reappeared, smiling broadly at him and flashing his teeth. They were very nice teeth, Miles had to admit. "All better," he announced. "So, thought of anything to do?"

"I most certainly have," Miles replied (even though he hadn't, not really), taking Wright by the shoulders and steering him to the couch, sitting him down before carefully choosing a seat beside him. How far apart should they be? Two inches? Five? A foot? He settled, eventually, with six inches because it was half a foot and seemed to be a good distance—not too close, and not too far.

Phoenix raised an eyebrow at him when he finally sat down but didn't comment, leaning back a little and grinning slightly. "I get it," he said. "So this is the part where we just stare at each other romantically in silence, right?"

Miles blinked. "What?" To be honest, he hadn't really thought that far. Actually, he'd been hoping to come up with an activity to do by the time they were seated, but he didn't—all he knew was that staring at Wright, even as aesthetically pleasing as he was, was not something he thought he could handle for a prolonged period of time. "Er, I mean. No? No! No." Phoenix looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Wait here," he finally managed to get out. And with that, he bolted to the kitchen, trying to buy some more time as he heated up a pot of milk and dumped a load of chocolate and cream into it. God, he really didn't have any idea what he was doing, did he? He'd expected to have the house to himself after everyone had left, but no, that damn Wright just had to charm his way into staying here for a few hours longer… and all he had to do was stand there

Great, and now his face was red from thinking about him. He poured the hot chocolate into two mugs once it was warm enough and carried them back out to Phoenix, who had an amused expression on his face. "Your face is red," he commented.

"Yes, it is," he said, handing one mug to the other man. "Thinking about, er, hot chocolate… made it red." Damn, he needed to stop talking right now, because this was just making him even redder.

"Uh huh," Wright replied, but thankfully didn't press it further, idly picking up and unwrapping a candy cane before stirring his drink with it.

Miles stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"I dunno, what does it look like?"

"It looks like you need a spoon."

Phoenix rolled his eyes, dropping the rest of the candy cane into the mug before taking a sip from it. "It never crossed your mind that I wanted to make it peppermint-flavored?"

"That sounds repulsive."

"No, it's actually really good. Come on, try." He held his mug out; Miles sniffed at it suspiciously. "They sell peppermint hot chocolate at Starbucks, you know. And it sells. But this is cheaper."

He tried his hardest not to pout. "I'll have you know I used the finest chocolate to prepare your beverage. And I cannot fathom how you would ever compare this to the drivel being sold there—"

"Shh, you're sounding like Godot now," Wright murmured, pressing the mug to his lips. Miles inadvertently found himself taking a gulp. It wasn't that bad, surprisingly—or maybe it wasn't so surprising. He liked hot chocolate, after all, and Phoenix had caught him sucking away at a candy cane as he watched the Steel Samurai (more than once, too), so of course he should have expected it to be good. Of course, it was also Wright who was feeding it to him right now…

He pulled away. "Better than I expected," he conceded, and took a sip from his own mug before frowning slightly. Somehow, it didn't seem to taste as rich anymore. He snuck a glance over at Phoenix, who was smirking and holding up another candy cane. Damn him and his peppermint, he thought, but took it from him nonetheless. Where the hell had all of these candy canes come from, anyway? He didn't recall buying any for the party.

Wright watched him as he begrudgingly stirred his hot chocolate with the cane until it shrank enough for him to just drop the whole thing in there before speaking again. "You do have romantic staring-ness planned for eventually, though, right? 'Cause I heard that's what all couples do."

"If you couldn't tell, Wright, we are hardly your average couple." They were much better than the average couple, Miles thought, because none of those other couples had Phoenix, who, for all of his flaws and strange ideas of what counted as a fun time, had admittedly made him feel much happier in the short span of time they'd been together so far than in the rest of his life. Not that he'd ever tell him that, of course.

"Still, though. I want to watch you, Miles. And I mean that in the creepiest way possible."

He rolled his eyes and pushed Phoenix's face away, taking another small sip from his now-peppermint-flavored hot chocolate. "Then go and do that from outside the window."

Wright glanced toward said window, and for a second Miles was afraid he'd actually go and do it, but thankfully he kept seated: "It's raining," he said instead.

"How festive," he murmured in reply.

"Hope Maya got back okay."


The both of them fell silent after that, drinking quietly from their mugs. Sometime during their exchange, Phoenix had managed to close the distance between them so that those six inches he had chosen so carefully were now down to one. And now their shoulders were touching.

It wasn't a bad feeling, he decided.

A few minutes of this later, Miles noticed that Wright seemed to be reaching into his pocket for something in the manner of someone who was trying not to be completely obvious or unsubtle but failing. He thought briefly of calling him out on it but decided to let him do whatever he was going to do in peace, finding himself rewarded moments later when the other man broke the silence.

"Hey Miles, look up."

Well, great. He should have spoken up earlier, because now it seemed as though Wright was about to pull a prank, Larry-style, on him. "I will not."

"Pleeease?" Phoenix whined, pouting a bit and shifting so that his face was right in front of Miles'. He seemed to be holding something above his head. Fantastic.

"Give me one good reason why I should," he groused.

"Because you think I'm awesome?"

Miles snorted. Awesome was hardly the word he would use to describe Phoenix Wright, but he looked up anyway, if only so the other man would shut up. There was some sort of green stem thing dangling from Wright's fingers, and he had no idea what it was.

"Mistletoe!" Phoenix supplied when Miles looked at him enquiringly. He glanced up at the green stalk again. Whatever it was, it looked quite ugly.

Wright finally glanced up as well when Miles failed to respond. "Aw, damn," he mumbled, dropping the stem and reaching into his pocket once more, producing a handful of crumpled leaves and silver berries. "Er, I think the all leaves fell off 'cause I kept it in my pocket for too long… but it's still mistletoe!"

He sighed and mentally counted to ten, waiting for Wright to explain the significance behind it. When nothing came, he arched an eyebrow at him. "And?"

Phoenix looked confused. "'And'…? Oh, I see what you mean." He grinned brightly and dropped the leaves onto Miles' head.

One fell into the hot chocolate. Miles scowled. "I fail to see what purpose doing that served," he said.

Another pout. "Well, isn't it obvious? There's mistletoe above you! Well… okay, on you, but same thing, really. So come on, smooch up."

Miles stared at him like he was insane after the other man made a kissy face. "Wright, what on earth are you doing?" he said. Crazy person.

"Come on, don't tell me you don't know," Phoenix replied, snorting. There was a moment of silence, after which he looked at him disbelievingly. "…You don't, do you."

"Do I look like the sort of man who would know about these sort of ridiculous customs?"

Wright sighed. "Okay, guess you have me there. But basically, if two people meet under mistletoe, they're supposed to kiss! And, well, you're under mistletoe, kind of. A-and so am I, maybe? So… kiss?"

Miles stared at him some more as one of the berries rolled off his head and into his mug. The idiot looked so hopeful. "You're not really under the mistletoe," he pointed out.

"Hmm," Phoenix mused. "No, I'm not, am I?" And before he knew it, Wright's face was right next to his as the other man swept a few of the leaves onto his Santa hat. Another leaf fluttered into his hot chocolate. "What about now?"

He blinked and glanced up. "I suppose I have no more arguments," he mumbled, turning red as he realized what this meant.

Phoenix grinned again and closed the gap between their lips, absently reaching toward the side to place his mug down on the coffee table. Miles' protest that he hadn't used a coaster died in his throat once Wright's tongue was in his mouth; it was all he could do to place his mug down as well before he spilled anything.

And God, it was good. Phoenix's mouth, he had discovered rather early on in their relationship, was useful for more than just chattering incessantly—it was also quite the kisser. Even Miles, who'd never kissed another soul in his life and who still felt very awkward about the whole thing, had to privately admit to himself that Wright was most definitely… well, doing it right.

He knew that this was true because it was only when he was ridiculously overwhelmed by Wright (in the best way possible, of course) that his brain made idiotic puns about Phoenix's last name.

The other man pulled back, his blue eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled at him. "Bet you guys don't do that in Germany, huh?"

"No," Miles mused quietly, looking up and smirking a bit. He brushed the rest of the leaves and berries off his head before doing the same to a surprised Phoenix and scooted closer, that one-to-six inches between them be damned. "In Germany, we don't need an excuse to do this."

And when they kissed again, when their lips met and he experienced that familiar, enthralling feeling of being overwhelmed, Miles knew: despite his (rapidly fading) annoyance at not getting the peace and quiet he'd wanted, despite knowing that he wouldn't be able to get to that exciting chapter on Australian law anytime soon, despite the realization that Phoenix would probably end up staying with him for the rest of the evening and spend most of his time being a bed hog and making fun of his pastel-colored, ruffled pajamas—despite it all, there would really be only one thought going through his head tonight:

It's awwwright.