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It was hard for Philippe to admit, but Lysandre's reappearance had definitely caused a shift in his and Corbeau's relationship, in how they acted around each other. There was a tension there that had grown slowly, creeping up on them until it became impossible to ignore. Corbeau's energy seemed never-ending, yet instead of focusing on their usual preoccupations – grunt management, city welfare, financial opportunities – he only had one thing in mind: reconnecting with their old benefactor now that they knew he was alive.
At first, Philippe had tolerated it. They'd gone through so much: so much grief, so much hardship, so much time spent surviving instead of living. They'd mourned Lysandre together. Having him back was earth-shattering.
Yet, slowly, something else had nestled in that space. It had taken some time for Philippe to dare give it a name, but he couldn't deny it anymore: he was jealous.
When Corbeau spoke of bringing Lysandre to the Rust Syndicate, the twisting in Philippe's gut was not apprehension; it was jealousy. When Corbeau spent entire evenings ruffling through archives for recordings of Lysandre, Philippe's worry wasn't entirely out of concern for his sleep schedule; it was jealousy. When Corbeau fell asleep at his desk after pushing himself too far and Philippe heard him mumble Lysandre's name under his breath...
The next time he saw Corbeau's thin lips stretching to form the first syllable of that name, Philippe reacted before he could allow himself to overthink it: he grabbed Corbeau by the shoulder and leaned down so their mouths could meet.
"Heh," Corbeau let out once they broke away from each other. His eyes had that glint that Philippe knew all too well, the very same that had made him go weak in the knees upon first meeting him. "Took you long enough."