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Once he noticed the snow falling, he felt overwhelmed with emotion by the sight of it.
To the homeless, snow meant that one of the most dangerous times of the year had arrived. It meant shelter or death. Winter’s claws threatened too many of Philippe’s friends, and at one point would’ve threatened him too. He just got an apartment and out of the streets, but the image of the others burned in his mind. Most of all that little brat.
He recently joined forces with a kid, his most annoying rival, to get his team back into shape. The kid had a knack for business and strategy, and getting people to stay took a lot of convincing when he had no money to give them. Most people hated the kid, but he gained a powerful following for the people who did trust him. He moved people in a way you couldn’t teach. The people that stayed after he joined up with him became more loyal than ever, and his ideas helped Philippe whet the passion of his team in a way he never could.
But in the back of his head, he knew the kid wasn’t living anywhere. That boy only ever appeared on the streets. He ignored the notion until he couldn’t anymore. Somewhere this kid was about to be cold and wet in the middle of an unforgiving blizzard. This small kid that no one wanted outside of his business savvy.
Despite trying not to overreact, he started searching for the kid just as the snow started to stick.
No, no, no, no.
He’d get sick out here in this cold, or worse. He only ever saw him in a hoodie. Did he even own a jacket?
Philippe checked a few of his most frequently visited locations. Just outside the sewers. In between a couple buildings. Behind a cafe. Even rooftops that had a bit of cover. Where was the kid?
He felt suddenly frantic in his search and tried to think of where he’d be. He couldn’t call anyone, the kid was a bit of a loner out here. There had to be somewhere he would go.
For whatever reason, he remembered Lysandre’s Cafe. One of the only cafes that didn’t throw people out for not buying anything. He ran there in a hurry, still feeling jittery with adrenaline. Snow fell about half an inch thick already. He better not still be outside!
Before Philippe walked in, he thought he saw him in the window. Finally! He strolled in and so many eyes turned to him.
“Corbeau,” he called out. But it turned out to be some other guy.
The girl at the counter caught his attention. “You just missed him. He drank some tea and moved on. He came here looking for Lysandre, but he’s out of town until spring.”
Looking for Lysandre? Maybe searching for a place and exhausting any options. Lysandre occasionally helped the kid out, but Philippe didn’t know how far his hand extended out to him. Either way, he didn’t get help here.
“Where’d he go? Do you know?”
“I know there’s a community building trying to make room to help people get out of the cold. Besides that, I’m not sure where he goes.”
Philippe navigated to the large community building on the south side of the city, the snow on the ground making him more and more anxious. The snow took a break, but it turned into icy rain. Dangerous. Hopefully he was around people who’d keep an eye on him. Please be inside and not hanging around in this cold.
He could feel the time passing in the pounding of his heart as he ran.
When he entered the community building, he found him right away. Hidden in plain sight. Yeah, he just had on a hoodie. He saw Philippe almost instantly too. But he looked bored, hands in pockets, miserable frown.
Philippe approached urgently.
“What happened, Philippe?” He had a business tone to him. As if Philippe had some pressing problem with paperwork.
“Where are you staying tonight?”
Corbeau frowned at him through his thick frames. “Why?”
He sharply gestured to the door. “It’s snowing out there and you’ll freeze to death unless you’re inside.” Corbeau still looked disinterested, so he added, “Stay with me tonight.”
“Hey, we were enemies until yesterday. Remember that? I’m not staying with someone who lost to me in a fight so he can smoother me in my sleep.”
“It’s not like that. I would never do anything like that. We’re on the same side now.” He wasn’t convincing enough and it killed him that he couldn’t think of the right way to convince him that he was really a trustworthy guy. His cheeks were already burning red, any longer and he’d be an icicle. The community building only got so warm with the door opening and closing so much. “I’m really just looking out for you. You’re important to the business, and me. You’re no good to me dead. Besides that, you hate to hear it, but you’re just a kid. You could die out there.”
He shook his head.
“I’m not leaving you until you accept.” He straightened up and steeled himself up for whatever method Corbeau might use to lose him.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Fine, Philippe. If it’s that important to you. Where’s your place?”
Corbeau and Philippe trudged along the sidewalk that now had a few inches of snow. The blizzard was out of control, and the flakes were thick and heavy right now, sticking to everything and everybody. He looked at the sorry sight next to him barely moving in the snow with old shoes and that pathetic hoodie. He didn’t have the heart to move faster than him and took smaller steps to stay by his side. Philippe pulled off his jacket and put it over Corbeau’s shoulders. He offered his arm too, but the kid pushed him away. The jacket was accepted though, and his smaller hands hid in the pockets as they walked along. He acted so tough and stubborn, but at least he didn’t reject all of his help.
Strong winds knocked things over and buffed people with snow. The chill it carried brought the temperature down to almost unbearable cold, the air felt like knives. Breathing this air made the throat feel like it froze up on the inside.
Corbeau almost never stopped talking, and out here he hardly made a peep. Philippe urged him forward saying things like how close they were, repeatedly telling him it was just a little more walking.
They eventually arrived, and Philippe opened the door for him. When Corbeau entered, he dumped the jacket and his shoes by the door. His face and hands still looked red from the cold, and his glasses fogged up. He sniffled so much on the way in, hopefully he hadn’t gotten sick from all that.
Philippe took some of his own layers off and locked the door. His face hurt from the cold, but his apartment stayed warm and comfortable.
“Maybe sit for a bit while you warm up.” He suggested and watched as the other surprisingly listened.
His small form shivered, still cold. He shut his eyes and yawned heavily. He held his hands close to his chest; his breathing sounded awful, a small wheeze at the end of each breath.
“How long were you outside?”
“They opened the community center to the public like an hour ago. I was in a cafe before that, so I wasn’t outside long.”
“And last night?”
No answer.
“Where’d you sleep last night?”
Nope. He stopped talking. Just shivered and stared at something else. Careful not to lower his gaze—was he seriously still worried about looking weak?
“Listen, kid, stay here as long as you want. My place isn’t big, but it’s better than nothing. Even if I’m not here, just come in, I’ll give you a key.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re partners—at least until you finally accept being the boss of the team. Then I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Corbeau laughed at that and grinned at him. “Whatever I want?”
He meant it as a service to help him achieve their common goal, but he knew from his tone he heard it as a ‘I’ll get you anything in the world’ sort of deal.
“What if I want a cloud?”
“Like a Swablu?”
“Oh clever. What if I want the biggest bar of chocolate in the world?” He chuckled.
Philippe hesitated. “You hungry? I can cook.”
“You’re such a flirt.”
He didn’t say no.
With that Philippe started throwing stuff in a pot. Soup to warm up the soul. Maybe some leftover meat because this kid needed some meat in his bones to keep him warm. Stock instead of water to give it body. Once he threw in some spices, the kid appeared in the kitchen with the couch blanket over his shoulders. Still shivering hard.
Philippe passed a spoonful of the soup to him. Corbeau accepted and lightly blew it before eating it. He bit the spoon with his teeth, a personal pet peeve of Philippe’s, but the kid probably hadn’t eaten well in a while so he let it go.
“That’s good. Where’d you learn to cook?”
He gestured vaguely. “Necessity? Kind of. You can train your palate and adjust what you do as you cook. It’s more an experience thing than a training thing. Starting with a recipe helps.”
Corbeau sat on a counter he wasn’t using and watched him. He imagined the brat admiring the techniques, but he probably just drooled over the food. He passed him a piece of bread that he ate before Philippe even turned back around.
“How long since you’ve eaten?”
“Stop with the questions already, old man,” Corbeau shot back. His tone lacked bite.
Philippe chuckled. “Fine.” All of those questions only had bad answers. May as well move on since he did find him and got him inside.
He served him a bowl. Corbeau clutched it to his chest with his right hand and ate with his left, until he wasn’t patient enough for that and drank the rest.
Philippe filled it up again before serving himself. The kid ate it just as fast and happily accepted another piece of bread when Philippe offered. His hungry eyes hurt Philippe’s heart the more he thought about it.
“Wanna wash up?”
Philippe found some old drawstring pants from another guy who stayed over some time ago. The pants might fit him. He dug around for a shirt and just couldn’t find anything.
“I found some pants but not a shirt.” He yelled out to the kid.
“Bring me one of yours.”
He picked something comfy and doubted he’d be able to use it. Well, it was temporary. He’d clean up the kid’s clothes for tomorrow. Wait, where were the rest of the kid’s clothes? No more questions, he was already pissed.
“Coming in,” Philippe announced before entering the bathroom.
Corbeau sat in the bathtub, cleaning himself up. The color on his face slowly returned to normal, but he looked tired. He looked so much younger without his glasses, but obviously he couldn’t joke about that. The kid was already insecure about his age, the guys never shut up about that. But he was young.
“You brought it?”
“The shirt’s too big for you, boy.” He folded the clothes and set them to the side. Philippe pulled out shampoo and passed it. “I’ll bring you a towel in a bit.”
He warmed up a towel and brought it over to him, setting it on the pile of clothes. “No rush, but don’t fall asleep in there.”
Corbeau squinted at him—looked like a glare—and gave him a wave in acknowledgment.
The kid eventually walked out of the bathroom and looked ridiculously small in the clothes. He started tying the end of the shirt so it wouldn’t be so long, but it still looked ridiculous. Philippe must be three times his size; he could use that shirt as a blanket.
“Comfy?” Philippe chuckled at him.
“It’s still snowing out there.”
They both looked out the window. The snow had been falling the entire time, and it piled up high. The wind blew in long, loud bursts. The day grew colder and deadly as time went on. It must’ve hit him that he was safe in here.
“Thanks for coming for me,” he finally said to Philippe while he put his glasses back on. He sat on the couch and wrapped himself in the blanket again. Now he got comfy, pulled his feet up, leaned against the arm of the couch, not all tense like earlier. Good.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Make yourself at home. Use whatever you want, just don’t go outside.” Don’t you dare leave.
Corbeau didn’t technically agree, but he met his eyes briefly and didn’t look like he was about to move any time soon.
After a quick rinse to get the stress sweat off him, Philippe checked on Corbeau, really to make sure he didn’t skip town. The kid stayed on the couch, and he fell asleep there in a little ball, no longer shivering but still struggling a little with every breath. Philippe slipped off his glasses and set them nearby.
Philippe changed into something comfy and draped a duvet over Corbeau instead of leaving him with just the little blanket. Tired, yellow eyes glanced at him cautiously, deciding something. After that, the kid disappeared into the blanket in appreciation.
He debated carrying him to his bed, but just getting this kid here took all this work. If he was comfortable there, he could stay there for now. At least he was warm and not buried outside in the deadly cold.
Years later, nearly a decade later, the world felt quiet and serene. It grew colder overnight, but that just made Philippe’s lover move closer to steal his warmth.
Philippe sat up and looked outside the window to see if anything was going on to cause such palpable peace. Nothing going on, just silence and a white sky.
Corbeau crawled up behind him and hugged his neck, lazily trying to squint at whatever Philippe sat up to see. He felt warm everywhere they touched despite the minor chill in the air. The twinge of cold felt nostalgic. Corbeau stayed over for the first time on a cold, winter day. The sky looked just like this too.
Once he noticed the snow falling, he felt overwhelmed with emotion by the sight of it.