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Corbeau led him to a cozy rooftop with exclusive seating and no one else around. Awaiting them was a little tea party, set up ahead of time. After opting to do decorations and stuff too at the last minute, Corbeau had gone a bit over the top with some of it. It also looked like he stole a tablecloth and candlesticks from a high-end restaurant, but it fit the theme. The Gracidea bouquets almost looked out of place, but they stood for gratitude better than everything else did.
Skarmory and Gyarados left their sides and decided to touch the sky while their trainers sat to chat. Skarmory called out the way that he did to promise Philippe he would return.
Corbeau went to explain the occasion after his reliable right hand man looked confused by what they came across. “I know you don’t like this sappy stuff, but you’ve done a lot for me, and I thought we should enjoy ourselves today. I know it’s Valentine’s Day, but this is more of a gesture of thanks, you know?”
“I do like this stuff, Boss.”
“Really? Well, there you go. This is for you, Philippe.” Corbeau pulled out his chair and gestured for him to sit. He swore Philippe blushed from that gesture alone.
The location overlooked the Rust Syndicate building, but Prism Tower could also be seen from here. The spread might’ve been a bit much, but he liked nice things and wanted to give Philippe nice things. He deserved the finest things Corbeau could find.
He picked a jasmine tea for himself and served Philippe a special Earl Grey tea he imported for this occasion next to a small container with cream since he adored a bit of cream with his tea. The table held plenty of fresh, warm pastries to choose from made late that morning so they would be eating them nearly right out of the oven. Philippe already eyed a heart-shaped, strawberry cake that the bakery insisted Corbeau take despite his insistence that it wasn’t for a date. Every place he went assumed he’d be going on a date so he took it as long as it was fresh and of fine quality. At the center of the table was a large Lumiose Galette with a gold pie server next to it. All the utensils on the table were gold. Philippe had an affinity for gold, not because they were pricey, but he had a discerning eye for quality. Although, maybe Mega Skarmory’s coloration played a part in that.
“Thank you, Boss.”
“You know, Philippe, I don’t have family in the city.” Corbeau fidgeted near his chair and tapped at the back of it.
“Come sit,” invited Philippe.
Corbeau slowly sat and sighed. “I sometimes wonder why I stay.”
“Because you love this city.”
“Sometimes I don’t. There are times when I feel like I don’t even belong here at all. I’m not from here; this city owes me nothing and gives me nothing. Except you. The only way I ever feel like I’m home is whenever you’re around.” Corbeau fixed his glasses. “Thank you for that. For making me feel like that.”
Philippe shook his head because of course he wouldn’t take the compliment. “It’s all you, Boss. You let your guard down around me, and I promise I would never hurt you for that. I think we’re supposed to be partners anyway. The way we work together, it’s hard to find that with anyone else. I know I’ll never find a better boss, so I don’t feel the need to look.”
“You know I’d tell you anything and not worry about you repeating it. That’s why we work together so perfectly: communication and connection.” He told Philippe so much that he’d never tell anyone. Not once had Philippe betrayed his trust. People like Philippe simply didn’t exist anywhere else.
Philippe leaned in a little and softened his voice a touch more than he usually did, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.” Like an absolute gentleman, he pulled out his handkerchief and passed it over.
Corbeau tried to refuse it, didn’t even know he was tearing up at first, but Philippe gently insisted. Corbeau teased him while wiping his eyes, “For a Steel user, you’re quite the soft touch.”
Philippe looked embarrassed by that and scratched the back of his head. Even sitting he towered over most people. Dressed up the way he was in his usual suit, perfectly tailored to his size, he still scared most people. But around Pokémon or children, he was about as scary as a Teddiursa. His own Scolipede figured out how to beg Philippe for attention, or food, or anything he wanted. Corbeau had some pull, but he tried not to take advantage. He deserved better than that.
They each ate a little, Philippe finally grabbing the cake he’d been wanting and happily digging into it. They could easily gaze at the beautiful Prism Tower; it wasn’t often that nothing harmful plagued the city. Corbeau stayed present and hadn’t even thought of work this entire morning, and even Philippe looked calm and content. Not a cloud in the sky.
Corbeau put his fingers near his mouth and whistled for Gyarados. Gyarados sped towards them as Corbeau tossed up a macaroon for him. He noticed Skarmory following closely behind and sent another one up for Philippe’s ace. Philippe watched with amusement as they came just close enough to snatch up food and then both fly off again.
After he finished the cake, Philippe turned his head a little to where there was music playing on the Rotom Phone. “Waltz music?”
“Maybe, I just put a playlist on.” He drank a little and nodded to himself because the tea was perfect.
Philippe looked around the rooftop for a minute. Corbeau paid that no mind, him being constantly observant and all, but once Philippe stood up and pulled off his suit jacket, he grew concerned.
“What’s up, Philippe?” He scanned around for a threat out of habit.
“Want to dance?”
Corbeau put down his tea and squinted up at him. “What?”
“I learned how to waltz a while back and… I would like to dance with you if you don’t mind.”
Philippe tried to pull back the offer when Corbeau didn’t answer right away, “If not, don’t worry. This was out of the blue, and I didn’t eat much of the galette yet.”
Corbeau shed his long coat and got up. “Surprised you know how to dance.”
“I wanted to be prepared just in case Jacinthe required us to attend some kind of event that required dancing.” Philippe pulled up his shirt sleeves, showing off his large forearms and the end of his tattoos there.
“Uh huh, sure.” Corbeau didn’t believe that for a second. “You can just tell me you like dancing, Philippe.”
Despite slightly blushing at being caught, he held out his arms. The invitation was more like a petition for a selfish desire, but no arms could be easier to run into. Corbeau just grabbed his hands since he had no clue what to even do. He found the size difference in their hands amusing for a moment.
“I don’t actually know what I’m doing. Is the height difference gonna be a problem?”
“Nope.” Philippe moved Corbeau’s left arm to lay over his right. “Hold onto my left hand with your right.”
Corbeau grabbed his hand.
“Loosely though. I won’t let you fall.” Philippe shook their hands so he’d lessen his grip a little.
Corbeau relaxed and grinned up at him. “I trust you.”
Philippe chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. For whatever reason, that was the thing that got him blushing the most. Trust.
They walked through the absolute basic steps until they got a small rhythm going. It took a while to get there, and Corbeau kept looking down to adjust.
“Can I tell you something, Boss?”
Corbeau locked eyes with him. “Of course.”
“You don’t have to worry; you’re a natural at this. Picking it up fast.”
“Tsk, pretty sure I just have a good teacher.”
Philippe smiled. “No, you’ve always been light on your feet.”
Whether Philippe’s comment was genuine or just to get him out of his head, he loosened up after hearing it. Also, since he looked away from his feet, he figured out he didn’t need to keep looking down so much. He could feel where he needed to go next.
The better they got, the nicer it felt. Philippe added a tip now and then as they floated around the rooftop. Raise your heel a little. Drop your shoulders. Pull down a little if I’m going too fast.
“Philippe, why do you call me ‘Boss’ when no one’s around?”
“I call you that because that’s the title I wanted for you. You didn’t want it, remember? I think a small part of why you fit the title so well is that you didn’t want it at first. You might come off as arrogant from far away, but you’re definitely not.”
Philippe taught the grunts to respect him and never let anyone say anything bad about their boss; Philippe was too good a man for this business, but he wanted to be here more than anything.
Corbeau frowned at a sudden thought. “If you ever want something else, just tell me. I can get you any gig in this city. Just say the word.”
“I’m exactly where I want to be. We have the same goal, the same ideals, the same vision for the city: we were always going to end up exactly where we are,” Philippe insisted. He got a little fancy with the dance and dipped him. Corbeau reflexively gripped his hand and arm at the sensation of falling; Philippe coolly continued talking and easily held onto him, “We would’ve run each other to the ground if not. I don’t think there’s a universe where we don’t work together, Boss; we have the same destiny. I don’t mean to go over your head with this, but if either of us don’t believe in this city, then we’re not us anymore. And if we don’t work together towards the future, neither of us will get there.”
He pulled Corbeau back up and returned to the basic steps. No longer flustered, he asked Philippe, “You don’t think I could’ve done it on my own?”
Philippe made a face like he already regretted what he was about to say, but answered honestly still, “No. It’s been long enough working with you that I’m sure you would’ve burnt out by now without a hand properly guiding you. You just took it on too young. You’re talented, but you were inexperienced. There’s some things I handled behind the scenes that I’m just not sure you would’ve caught in time.”
It came up in graceful nudges and tips that Philippe had years on him when it came to experience. Philippe could openly suggest things to Corbeau if he wanted, but he was too polite to do that all the time. Plus, he’d have to deal with Corbeau fighting him at first about it every time.
“You make it sound like we’re soulmates,” he teased Philippe. Corbeau was a sucker for every time that man blushed. He was determined to get him to do it even more, to get his steely gaze to bend and true colors to show.
“Not soulmates. That’s too picturesque for what we are. It’s more like… Xerneas and Yveltal.”
Corbeau raised an eyebrow at him. “Wouldn’t it be more like Zygarde? Neither of us are exactly destroying anything. We’re just cells or cores working together to protect the whole of the city.”
“Doesn’t that just sound like soulmates?” Philippe dropped one arm and spun him around. Philippe seemed to be enjoying leading this dance; he handled Corbeau a little bit too easily.
“No, we’re cogs in the machine that makes up Lumiose City.” Corbeau slipped his hands away and just leaned against Philippe’s chest, looking at Prism Tower, the symbol of the city. “Maybe that’s why I don’t leave.”
Philippe put his hands on his back and continued to sway. “Thank you for this. You know, I really do like stuff like this, Boss. We should do this more often; it gets you out of the office and out of your head.”
He liked tea parties and pretty views of the city? Dancing and swaying to music? Could he be more soft?
“Yeah, we’ll do more stuff like this, eating, talking, even dancing if you want. Doesn’t have to be private either. We can do things with the entire Rust Syndicate.”
“But not all the time. It’s nice to catch up with just you, Corbeau.”
This time Corbeau felt his face warm up, so he fixed his hair to obscure his face. “Yeah, whenever you want. Just say you want a break or to drink some tea, and we’ll go hang out for a bit.”
“Unless we’re busy protecting the city.”
Corbeau looked up at reliable, steady eyes as soft grey as a sprinkling, spring day. “Zygarde can’t do it by itself, Philippe. That’s what makes us cells: us working together to protect the city.”
Philippe nodded solemnly but then poked Corbeau on the nose.
Corbeau glared at him.
“You’re so cute sometimes.”
“Seriously, Philippe?”
“You can’t take things too seriously, Boss. That’s why this is important, stuff like what we’re doing right now. Otherwise we might resent each other.”
Corbeau was impressed. “Wise words.”
“Thanks. Got them from you back when I took every loss personally.” Philippe continued, “You probably don’t remember because it wasn’t a big deal to you. I’m sure I’ve done stuff that was a big deal to you that I don’t remember.”
“I knocked over a vendor cart, running from you back in the day.” Philippe looked confused as Corbeau recalled this memory. “I knew if I stayed to help, you’d grab me and drag me away. You ran past too at first, but then you saw a kid start crying and hit the brakes. I got to a roof and saw you help the guy with the cart and bring a flower to the crying girl. That’s around the time I realized you wouldn’t really hurt me.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Yeah, well, it was just another day for you. You didn’t think about it. You were always running after me, and after you finished with the girl, you threw your hands up cause I was long gone. Not a big deal to you, but you helped that girl for no reason. Every time I took help from you, it was partially because you helped that girl, not expecting anything back. Not so cold and hard for a Steel specialist.”
Philippe shyly chuckled at that.
“Corbeau. Let’s sit.” Philippe guided him back to his chair and sat across him again. He looked like he wanted to say something, and before getting to it, he served him a piece of galette.
“Thanks, Philippe, but I’m supposed to be serving you today.”
“You did, and you did great. But remember, I’m yours. Whatever you need, Boss. Use me however you want. I trust you. You always seem to know what’s best for the city in the grand scheme of things. It’s important that you know I’ll always be around for whatever you need.”
“Wow, you really believe that cells of Zygarde stuff? We’re not heroes, Philippe. We’re barely good guys.” He sipped more tea. Still delightful, nice.
“Heroes don’t call themselves heroes, Boss. Other people call them heroes.” Philippe cleared his throat and looked a little embarrassed before saying, “You’re a hero to the city, and my hero, Boss.”
Corbeau disagreed, shaking his head. How dare he beat him to the chase. “And you’re mine. Really. Because you’re right: there’s no me without you. There’s no Rust Syndicate without us. Together.” He held out the tea cup. “For a better future.”
Philippe clinked the cup and looked at the view and their Pokémon in the sky before adding, “For our beautiful city.”
