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The beginning of Fall used to be the easiest time of the year for Philippe to find Corbeau. His young rival caused much less trouble and stayed away more days than he appeared. Philippe originally didn’t know why.
By chance, he once found Corbeau sleeping during the day. He had squeezed deep into a narrow space and had fallen asleep in there. Philippe couldn’t reach him, most likely why he chose that spot. Corbeau felt eyes on him, glared at him through sleepy, yellow eyes, and shimmied away from him. He would either not see him for months in Fall or find him somewhere nearly unreachable moments before he’d fly away from Philippe’s sight.
So, after they started working together, Philippe expected the odd behavior to stop. Corbeau only acted that way when he worked alone, when he had no security, and when he didn’t have a place to himself. He now belonged to and ran a large organization, and Philippe made sure he was housed in a safe part of town.
But after they met with a possible client for one of Corbeau’s new initiatives, Philippe’s new, young boss wilted a little.
“Corbeau?” Philippe saw that he startled Corbeau with his voice. He spoke too loudly; he needed to work on that. “What’s wrong? Getting sick?”
“I’m fine. Look over this paperwork on the couches over there.” Corbeau handed Philippe some papers he put together for the guy that was just here. “I picked up on a few mistakes and I’m curious if you’ll spot them too. I want you just as versed at this stuff as me.”
Philippe took them. It annoyed him that Corbeau didn’t turn around to look at him, and he nearly let it go in the name of partnership and trust. But at the last moment, he circled the boss’s desk to look at him.
Corbeau wrote something down and used his right hand to obscure his face.
“Hey, Boss?”
“What?”
“Should I grab lunch, or do you want to go somewhere?”
“Grab it. Bill me.”
Really, he didn’t look up at all?
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“I don’t see where the client signed this?”
Corbeau put a hand out, and Philippe held it out just out of his reach. Angrily, Corbeau grabbed it with his right hand and exposed his face. His eyes looked worn out. After he scanned the paper with squinting eyes, heavily blinking, he pointed where they had signed and initialled and practically threw the papers back.
“Couldn’t sleep last night?” Philippe neatly straightened up the papers.
Corbeau sighed and gave him an annoyed side eye.
“Don’t forget: same team,” Philippe reminded him before Corbeau could dismiss him again.
Corbeau set down whatever he was doing to really face Philippe. “It’s catnap season. Whenever Fall hits, I get tired all the time. You know this, you used to almost kill me all the time around this time of the year. Just lasts until the first snow, but since that takes a while, I get hit with fatigue unless I sleep throughout the day. But I don’t have time for that anymore with everything we have lined up. AND everything I have to fix with the Syndicate. No offense but you were driving a car hanging on with duct tape the way you ran this place, Philippe.”
“Arceus, is that it? Are you sure it’s not just allergies?”
Corbeau frowned like he offended him.
“When I was younger, I’d get nosebleeds all the time around this time of the year. The stuff in the air around here is brutal. Maybe you get fatigue because of allergies?”
“That’s impossible. I don’t have any other symptoms.”
“How’s your breathing?”
Corbeau took in a breath and let it out. The smallest wheeze could be heard on the breath in but Corbeau didn’t seem to hear it.
“It’s minor but there’s something there. Go crash for a bit on the couch. I’ll run to the drug store and get some medicine.”
Corbeau shook his head. “Not necessary. I’ve had this fatigue for years, it’s not allergies.”
“Go rest anyway. I can handle it for a while if you need a quick nap.”
“No.”
Philippe decided to wait him out. If Corbeau was as tired as he thought, he may pass out on his own.
The office, once owned by Philippe, slowly gained more furniture. Corbeau had a certain… taste for furniture, so the couches that he called comfortable and sleek were uncomfortable and questionable fashion-wise. Still, he sat there and looked over the paperwork, understanding enough to know that Corbeau would want it much more complicated to talk clients in circles instead of making it easy for them to negotiate back. He highlighted the mistakes he found and reread it several times.
The next time he peeked over to Corbeau, the younger man had his head on the desk and hadn’t moved in a minute from that spot. Should he move him? It looked so uncomfortable to be in that position, but also, their partnership was new. He might incur the wrath of his once rival for even touching him.
He hated seeing Corbeau so awkwardly laying there like that and decided to just accept being sent to the Distortion World to get him into a more comfortable position.
Philippe approached and slowly grabbed him, but that method just made yellow eyes appear. Philippe hesitated when he assumed he woke up.
Given their proximity, Corbeau’s first reaction was to hit him in the face and run. He successfully punched Philippe’s nose, but during his “escape”, he basically threw himself off his chair and couldn’t get up again.
While he was down, Philippe picked him up and carried him to the couches while he weakly fought him. “I’ll get you medicine later. Just sleep it off for now. I’ll wake you up if something comes up.”
When he placed him on the couches, Corbeau nearly tried to escape again.
“Boss, same team. Remember? I’ll keep you safe.”
Philippe sat on the couch and pretended to be looking through paperwork near him. He just wanted Corbeau to get the sense that he would keep an eye on him and keep working. Efficiency was his concern right now, surely.
Instead of berating him or scolding him, Corbeau moved to his lap to lay his head there and closed his eyes again. He finally realized just how desperately he needed the sleep, but the act felt so vulnerable. His hair was off limits—a warning Corbeau pressed into him right away. So, Philippe put a hand on his back and lightly rubbed.
The nap lasted only a short while. When he woke up with a start, ready to run away in that moment, Philippe reminded him in a low voice, “You’re safe. We’re in the Syndicate. Same team. I’ll get you medicine for tomorrow. Get up slowly, you’re still half asleep.”
Corbeau looked Philippe over, and his eyes seemed to finally believe him.