Work Text:
Then Philippe remembered their first kiss–how its sudden nature made him wish he broke all meticulous social restraints of their business relationship. How he felt his heart flutter in his throat. How he wanted more than anything in that moment than to take the smaller man into his arms and make him his entire world, right then and there…
Walking back to the Rust Syndicate office after a business deal in the west side of the Magenta District, Corbeau’s face scrunched, his brows knit in a tight V. Philippe followed behind him, eyes ahead watching his boss’s path, diligently. The clouds were growing dark and heavy.
I can’t believe I didn’t think to bring an umbrella… Corbeau thought to himself in disgust. He was well known among the entire city for how well-prepared he always was. Such was his perfectionist nature. Corbeau was a man of detail. Any mistakes he made felt like burdens. He knew he was too harsh on himself, even for the more insignificant slip-ups.
The clouds opened up. A harsh downfall collapsed all over the city, wet daggers slicing the pepper-dark sky.
“Dammit.” Corbeau scoffed, lifting his jacket over his head. Philippe had considered shielding his boss from the rain with his own jacket, but considered his size. He reckoned that Corbeau would more likely drown in the fabric than from the downpour.
Corbeau quickened his pace, light on his feet, trying to avoid forming puddles. Philippe nearly had a hard time keeping up with the cadence of Corbeau’s nimble legs. Philippe certainly lacked the grace to avoid the puddles. He didn’t care about his shoes getting wet–he only cared about making sure Corbeau got back to the office safely.
Taking a shortcut, Corbeau turned tightly into an alleyway. The office wasn’t much further ahead. Just a few more blocks to go. Despite his jacket held up like a Murkrow shielding itself with a wing, his glasses were obscured by droplets and his hair was becoming slick with the rain water. Corbeau’s frantic steps quickened even more, practically sprinting. In his haste, he misstepped. His left foot hitched onto his right ankle. He stumbled forward, arms outstretched to catch himself from hitting the pavement face first.
Without hesitation, Philippe bounded towards Corbeau, instinctively thrusting out his arms. His wide fingers formed a basket under Corbeau’s abdomen, catching him. Corbeau’s face was inches from the muddy ground. Philippe’s stocky arms lifted Corbeau upright with ease. But his laced fingers remained tight around the smaller man’s middle.
The two stood there for a noticeably long beat. Corbeau’s back was flush to Philippe’s round stomach. Philippe’s mind came rushing back to his frozen body. His cheeks flushed pink as he noticed the intimate nature of their position. Flustered by the realization, he started to remove his hands from his boss’s waist. With Sneasel-like precision, Corbeau clenched his hands around Philippe’s wrists, stopping the larger man from pulling away. Philippe was frozen by this gesture, gaze adhered to the back of Corbeau’s head.
“Boss, you’re going to get wet.” Philippe broke the silence.
“Already am.” Corbeau retorted without hesitation. He swiveled around, not loosing his grasp. His amber eyes locked with Philippe’s brilliant silver gaze. Neither cared about the downpour padding on their heads and shoulders. No natural disaster could intervene on the matched gaze the two were gripped by.
Just as quick as the sky had opened, Philippe bent forward, bringing his face to the shorter man’s. Corbeau flung his arms around Philippe’s shoulders as their lips connected. Their mouths desperately clung to one another, only parting for short breaths. Rainwater drizzled against their faces between each aching kiss. Every moment one was to pull away, the other would bring them back in with furious yearning. Soaking wet under the Lumiosian city lights, the two refused to break their passionate embrace.
Philippe’s racing mind had emptied. He couldn’t even recall what their business deal was about just merely 30 minutes ago. The only thing on his mind was the man in his arms. His heart felt like the overflowing fizz of a soda bottle, sparking in every muscle of his face. How he often spent days watching Corbeau talk, intoxicated by his silvery words. How he would glance away in fear his boss would see him staring at his mouth for too long. But now those lips were fervently against his. It was everything he had longed for.
Corbeau gently pulled away after what felt like an eternity locked against him. The corner of his mouth upturned slightly.
“Been waiting to try that.” He chuckled. Philippe cocked his head to the side, startled by Corbeau’s response.
“Wait… you…” Philippe struggled to find the words.
“Of course. I see how you look at me. If only you knew the things that cross my mind every time I look at you.”
Philippe was dumbstuck, jaw open slightly.
“Now let’s go home. I’ll dry you off.” And with a heel turn, they left the alley, hearts in knots, ready for what was to come in the privacy of the dry penthouse that waited to warm them from the drizzling sky.