Work Text:
"That's cute."
"What is?" Corbeau's eyes flickered up from the screen of his laptop as he tapped away on the keyboard.
You hummed from your spot on the sofa, and turned the page of a magazine you were flipping through. "Did you know that you do this cute little hop when you send your pokemon out during battles?"
Corbeau had just finished a promotional match with another player. You had arrived just when the match started, and decided to stay and watch. The Rust Syndicate leader came out victorious, naturally. You decided to stay a while, having nothing else to do. That, and he promised to take you to dinner once he was finished with file reports.
The tapping of the keys stopped. Then, Corbeau cleared his throat.
"I ask that you refrain from referring to me as 'cute'. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know. And also, I do not 'hop'."
The tapping resumed.
"Mm, I'm pretty sure you do."
"You must be imagining things."
"Oh, so I'm just imagining that small space between the floor and your feet? Isn't that called hopping?"
"I do not hop!"
"Do you do it to compensate for your vertically challenged stature, or something? You know, to make yourself seem more intimidating?"
Corbeau closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. "If you're that bored, I'm sure I can find some work for you to do."
You scoffed, closing the magazine and placing it on the spot next to you. "None of my friends are in debt to you anymore. I don't owe you anything," you said, struggling to sit up. You had been laying upside on the couch with your legs propped up on the back, your feet crossed and resting on the top.
"That can certainly be changed."
"Yeah? And whose going to be your enforcer? We all know Philippe has a soft spot for me."
And it was true. Ever since the strongest trainers banded together to stop Ange and the wild rogue mega evolved pokemon, Philippe had started treating you a bit softer, especially when he noticed how your presence seemed to positively affect his boss.
Corbeau closed his eyes in annoyance. "That may be true," he sighed. "However." He pushed his glasses up and smirked, his yellow eyes holding your gaze. "I'm still his boss. And his loyalties are towards me and the Rust Syndicate. I still have you beat, kid." He resumed his typing.
You bristled at the name for a second, before letting it roll of your back. He only called you that when he wanted to rile you up.
"Look, all I said was that you do this little hop and that it was cute," you said. "Here, lemme show what you do."
You stood up, perhaps a bit too fast as you briefly saw stars, and made your way to the battle court in the back. You walked over and stood on the side he usually stood on during matches. Then, you looked back over at Corbeau and saw that he had followed you, but was standing on the sidelines, his gaze stoic.
You suddenly felt nervous, but shook it off. You cleared your throat and took up a stance. "Now, what does he do again?" you murmured to yourself. "Oh, right." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, and donned your best Corbeau impression (you hoped).
Taking your right hand, you squeezed your left hand (why did he do that? Was he massaging his hand or something?) before you reached for one of your pokeballs. You dramatically brought your left hand back and gave a little jump, bending your knees. You flicked your legs out as you threw the ball, releasing your shiny scolipede. Your scolipede looked confused for a second, before turning around and trotting towards you, bringing its face close to yours.
"I'm sorry, girlie. No battle right now," you laughed, stroking the bug-pokemon under the chin.
Corbeau slowly clapped as he made his way over. "Very nice, though I suppose it could use some work," he said, stopping in front of you.
You shot him a deadpanned look, before turning coy. "Well, why don't you show me how it's done? As the boss."
A dangerous glint flickered in Corbeau's eyes, and you briefly regretted asking. He shut his eyes, sweeping his hair back. "I suppose that's appropriate. After all, if you're going to do it right, you may as well be shown."
Like you haven't seen it hundreds of times. You rolled your eyes when he walked to the other side of the court.
"Watch carefully, sweetheart."
You raised an eyebrow at the name. He also knows you hate pet names like that. But very quickly, you found that you that you didn't care as you watched him perform said action.
There was something about the way that he did it. The power. The confidence. So. Much. Rizz. Was it even possible to love this man even more than you already did?
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't notice him and his scolipede make their way to you and your own scolipede. Your shiny scolipede trilled at his, and the two nuzzled each other fondly.
"Well, I'd say based on your drool, that you found that anything but cute."
Did you say confidence? You actually meant ego.
"Nope," you said, closing your eyes and turning your head in defiance (discreetly wiping your face and finding no drool). "That was about as cute as watching a buneary."
You suddenly felt gentle fingers under your chin and moving your face. When you opened your eyes you found his cool yellow ones staring into yours. Your eyes widened, and you felt your face grow warm.
"Surely you're referring to yourself. Though, if you ask me, you're much cuter and more pleasant to watch than a buneary."
When did his voice get so low? You closed your eyes and sighed, willing yourself to keep it together. But it was hard when he was so close and you could smell him: cedarwood, musk, and the spicy bite of black pepper.
"Ah, who am I kidding," Corbeau continued, "Cute things are Jacinthe's thing. Me? I like the ones who can stand on their own. Who don't rely on the help of others. Self-sufficient." His thumb brushed up against your bottom lip. "But you, you're all that and more. And you don't even gloat about it."
Your heart was beating fast. Like, really fast. The room was beginning to feel small and stuffy.
“Even when you beat me, I still end up having fun. Guess it’s ‘cause I can be myself around you--"
*SMOOCH*
You didn't get to see Corbeau's surprised and flustered face because you were too busy giggling and running back to the office part of the room.
"Hurry up and finish your work. I'm starving!" You called over your shoulder.
Corbeau watched as your scolipede and his scolipede trotted after you, intending to create a snuggle pile. He adjusted his glasses as a small smile graced his face for a fleeting moment, before returning to it's stoic expression. Slowly, he made his way back to his desk, yellow eyes glinting with the promise of a good time later.