Snug as a Bug

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Phoenix/Edgeworth

About: This is an age regression fic where Phoenix regresses, and Miles takes care of him :]

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Miles was perfectly content at the moment. He’s right on the edge of sleep after a long day, with Phoenix curled up against his chest. Phoenix had spent most of the evening regressed, which was a welcome reprieve for the both of them. Miles prepared a simple dinner, put a movie on for Phoenix, and let his mind go a little blank for an hour and a half as Phoenix clung to him, eyes glued to the TV. If Phoenix was clingy normally, it didn’t hold a candle to the way he latched onto Miles when he was feeling small.

Then, they went through the usual motions of Phoenix’s bedtime routine when he was regressed; a bath with his favorite soaps (which, not-so-coincidentally, happened to be Miles’), a quick change into his coziest pajamas, and a bedtime story of his choosing read to him by Miles. Their bedside lamps are clicked off, with a little bird shaped light dimly glowing on Phoenix’s side.

(He wasn’t scared of the dark, he insisted, it was just nice to have a little light.)

So now, a few minutes after they’d wrapped up their routine, Miles was ready to drift off. It was rare he dozed off so easily, but the gentle motions of nights like these soothed him, and sleep came easier.

Of course… Maybe Miles should’ve known. Things were never this easy for him.

“Mmph, Miles?” Phoenix mumbles in a small, sleepy voice.

“Mm…?” Miles hums, opening one eye just a crack. He tries not to let on too much annoyance. He just wants to sleep, but he knows he needs to be patient with Phoenix when he’s feeling like this. For all that he tries to hide it, he could be a bit… sensitive in this state. Miles needed to tread carefully. “Yes?”

“Who do you think is the nicest bug?” Phoenix asks, with that familiar air of innocent curiosity that often laced his tone when he was feeling small.

“...What?”

“Um, like, who would be the best bug to be friends with?”

Miles frowns, confused. “Bugs don’t really think like that, dear. They don’t have complex relationships like us.”

“Well, maybe it's because no one is trying to be friends with them…”

Miles sighs. “Bees, maybe?” He tries his best to humor Phoenix. He’s not so sure why Phoenix is so caught up on bugs and their feelings… Though it’s endearing enough that he doesn’t feel too bothered that he’s being kept awake a few moments longer to discuss them.

“Bees are nice…” Phoenix softly agrees, with a small nod against Miles’ chest. “I think rolly pollies would make nice friends.”

“That’s nice, dear…” Miles’ response is a bit absentminded as he closes his eyes. He hopes that Phoenix is content now that they’re answered such pressing questions as “what bug would make the best friend?”

“They’re not really bugs, though.” Phoenix adds, because Miles was foolish to think he was done. Miles sighs, but can’t help but smile slightly.

“No, they’re not.” He yawns, a strand of hair falling into his face. He brushes it away with a huff. “They’re crustaceans…”

“Mm.” Phoenix hums thoughtfully. “If I was a bug, what kind of bug do you think I would be?”

“A dragonfly…”

Phoenix smiles so sweetly at him that, again, he forgives him for keeping him up. “Have you thought about that before? You answered quick.”

“No, love, I haven’t thought about it before.”

“Well… I think you would be a moth.”

“Hm…” Miles’ eyes slip shut, dragged down by exhaustion despite his attempts at staying attentive for just a little longer. “And why’s that?”

“They’re soft,” Phoenix’s fingers gently play with Mile’s hair where it splays out on his pillow. “And pretty.”

Miles smiles softly. “That’s very sweet, dear.” He yawns once more. He wasn't so sure he agreed that moths were particularly pretty, but the sentiment was very kind. “Why not a butterfly? They're pretty.”

“No, butterflies are scary…”

“Mm… Are they?” Miles vaguely remembers a story Phoenix had told him once, the memory only barely surfacing through the thick haze of sleep filling his mind. “Is this because of the time you accidentally ate one…?”

Phoenix pouts at the mention. If Miles remembers correctly, he’d accidentally inhaled a butterfly while biking. Phoenix told the tale as if it were a horror story, but Miles found it rather amusing… if not a bit gross.

“No. They have scary faces.”

“Ah. I suppose they do…”

“Well… what kind of bug would Cloud be?” Phoenix holds up the plush in his arms. Cloud is a light blue plush puppy, and it was safe to say Phoenix’s mental wellbeing when he was regressed was determined by whether Cloud was in his general vicinity or not.

“Hard to say… maybe a caterpillar.”

Phoenix hums to himself, seemingly satisfied with that answer. Miles hopes that’s the end of the discussion, until Phoenix makes the tiniest sound. He sounds… sad.

“Mm, what’s wrong?”

“What if butterflies feel sad because I think they’re scary?” He asks sadly. There it was, that overly sentimental side to him. Miles would find it irritating if it were coming from anyone but Phoenix.

(Truth be told… It could still be irritating at times. But it was irritating in that special, uniquely Phoenix way, the sort that Miles found too endearing to be truly annoyed by it.)

“They’re not going to be sad, dear.” Miles pets him soothingly, narrowing his eyes at him. “Why are you so worried about how bugs feel tonight?”

“I dunno… I just don’t want them to be sad…”

Miles sighs, a little exasperated, a little fond. “The bugs will be okay, Phoenix. You don’t need to worry about them right now, okay?” He presses a gentle kiss to Phoenix’s forehead. “You need to be worried about getting some sleep.”

“But I have more bug questions…”

“I know you do, birdie. You’re always full of questions, aren’t you? And I’m glad you’re so curious, it’s very cute…” He watches as Phoenix tries (and fails) to hold back a yawn. “But you need to rest for now.”

“Mm…” Phoenix protests half heartedly with a small, petulant whine.

“Hush.” Miles pats his head. “None of that. Now… if you go to bed, we’ll go bug hunting this weekend. Does that work?”

They had the weekend off. It was rare for either of them to truly take breaks, and rarer that those breaks aligned. And Miles was weaponizing it. Whatever he had to do for both of them to finally get some sleep… And Phoenix got something out of it, anyway.

Phoenix relents. “Okay…” He sleepily replies. Looks like he’s losing the last of his steam anyway… He probably could’ve only made it through one or two more questions before he’d fallen asleep waiting on Miles’ answer.

“Thank you. Goodnight, my dear.”

Phoenix nuzzles against Miles’ chest, curling up tightly with one last little yawn.

“G’night…”