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Philippe woke up first; he always woke up first. He quickly got up since the longer he delayed it, the more likely he’d wake up Corbeau. He’d still wake up from the sudden movement, but he fell back asleep easier than if Philippe messed around trying to be gentle about moving the bed. He knew a lot about Corbeau, maybe too much. But they operated so closely that it never felt weird that he did.
After Philippe got out of the bathroom, he pulled out his clothes and Corbeau’s clothes for the day, changing into his own even though it was early. Maybe he could pop into work before Corbeau and get through a few things to lighten his load. He worked too hard, and he probably would still even with a lighter load, but dragging him home was easier if more got done ahead of time.
Philippe felt eyes on him and glanced at his bed. Corbeau sat up against the pillows and watched him with a slight squint, hand on his chest over his heart. His mind went to heart attack, but he wasn’t panicking—he later thought of the irony of him thinking it was a heart attack before Corbeau even spoke.
“Philippe?” he nearly whispered in the quiet of the room.
Philippe turned completely towards him. “Yes, Boss?”
He seemed to internally debate speaking his mind. Philippe sat on the opposite side of the bed and waited. If he didn’t have an easy out, he was more likely to talk. Eye contact and full attention often got him talking.
“I think I love you?”
Philippe tried not to make a face for every emotion that went through him just then. Wasn’t that… didn’t he already know that?
Not because they were married, Corbeau married him for citizenship since Lysandre couldn’t even figure out how to do it legally in addition to a name change. And also because being in business with your marriage mate came with extra perks. Perks that when he pitched the idea to Philippe, he accepted right away. Actually, Philippe accepted because that was the only way Corbeau agreed to being the leader of the Rust Syndicate.
But they also didn’t need to live together. Corbeau realized Philippe could cook, and Philippe realized Corbeau kept forgetting to eat. Living together solved that. With the added bonus that Corbeau could talk shop even out of work. Philippe didn’t always let him, but he could.
Corbeau had been expressing his love for years, hadn’t he? Whenever he complimented Philippe’s work in front of others, wasn’t that a little declaration of love? Keeping Philippe actively in the business and telling him all the little details because the business went to Philippe if something happened to Corbeau, Arceus forbid, wasn’t that him trusting Philippe out of love?
Philippe’s entire image came from a little act of love. Corbeau dressed him up, shaved off his head, and gave him the pin that became a permanent part of his uniform—wasn’t that an act of unconditional love? Corbeau only touched the people he truly cared about. Why help someone’s image if he didn’t love them to some degree?
This house that the business paid for was basically a gift too, and it overlooked the tower, so it wasn’t exactly cheap. And it wasn’t in Corbeau’s name. This was Philippe’s. Although considering they were married, it would go to Corbeau. He had expensive tastes, but he always stuck around anyway. Corbeau decorated his office with luxuries that Philippe could also use, including the chair he worked in every day.
Didn’t he also take care of his Steel types when he was busy? They all adored Corbeau, and he showed them maybe too much affection in return. He gave Skarmory treats that Philippe would never spoil him with, and his Klefki held most of Corbeau’s and his keys, but mostly Corbeau’s keys since he owned more. He polished them more than Philippe did, treating them like softies, very unlike the way he treated his own team. So, Philippe often cared for his team in return. It wasn’t a formal arrangement. Wasn’t that love?
He had to say something or Corbeau would jump out the window. “I always assumed you knew that. How did you figure that out?”
His boss looked annoyed by his answer but continued the conversation anyway, “I realized that whenever I see you, I feel this warmth in my chest—I thought it was that familiar feeling when you’ve known someone a long time, but we have grunts that have been around just as long as you and I don’t feel that way around them. I woke up and saw you getting ready, and I felt it. In my head, I hear this little thing that goes ‘that’s my person’, but I just thought it came from knowing you so long.”
Letting Philippe see him in a vulnerable state was also one of the things he assumed he did out of love. Corbeau hated crying in front of people, and one of the worst times in his life came with the loss of Lysandre. He voluntarily went to Philippe to have him comfort him through it. He knew he’d feel the same way. Just acknowledging all of that was pretty unlike him in retrospect.
Philippe moved closer so he could see his face better. “I feel it too. Whenever I see you, especially if I didn’t expect to see you somewhere. But does it change anything?”
“Doesn’t have to.”
“Do you want it to?”
“Not really. Do you?—are you lacking anything?”
Was he lacking anything? He already went through a list that said he lacked nothing. He didn’t yearn for anything he didn’t already have. His face must not say that because Corbeau looked worried about the pause.
Philippe leaned close to him to answer, “There’s this watch I’ve always wanted.”
Corbeau glared at him.
He chuckled and smiled at him. “If you can’t afford it, Boss, that’s fine. I’ll save up.”
“I’m serious, Philippe!”
“Me too. I’m not lacking anything. There’s nothing else I want.” Well there was one other thing. “I do want you to be kinder to yourself.”
“Fine. If you see me doing something you don’t like, you have my full permission to take me away somewhere else. As long as it’s not in the middle of a business deal or something.” He sighed. “Get me the name of the watch.”
“I was kidding.”
“Yeah, sure, but it was based on something.”
“There’s no watch. Really, Boss.”
He didn’t believe him but dropped it anyway. Corbeau crawled closer to him and fixed his tie for him. “Going to the office early? Good boy.”
“Wanna sleep in?”
“Yeah, right.” His boss even went to work sick sometimes. No way he stayed away on some normal Saturday.
A few days after that discussion, Corbeau came into the office late. He smiled at Philippe on his way in and fixed his tie, resting his hand on his chest for a second. Now when he saw that gesture, he thought about what Corbeau said about warmth in his heart.
Corbeau walked up to Philippe instead of sitting right away. He held out a box that looked big in his hands but small when Philippe took it.
“You do great work around here, Philippe. The Syndicate will never deserve your dedication.” Philippe opened it and saw that his sly boss tracked down the watch he was talking about despite a brand never slipping from his lips.
“I love you too, Corbeau.”