Enjolras looked up from his reading to see that Courfeyrac had listed over from where he’d been propped up on the pillows on Enjolras’s bed.
No wonder. Courfeyrac had been up since dawn. They had helped some of Enjolras’s friends from a different print shop, and one or two of Feuilly’s fellow fan painters, flee the city a few steps ahead of the police. Charles X was trying to tighten his grip; many of their allies were feeling it close around them.
And now it was past midnight. Enjolras put his book down. He removed the papers from Courfeyrac’s lap and laid him down on the bed, pulling the covers over him. Courfeyrac had already rid himself of boots, coat, waistcoat and cravat. They were strewn about the floor, Enjolras noted in fond exasperation.
He tidied up and changed for bed himself. As he slipped under the blanket, he felt Courfeyrac stir next to him. “Mmmm.”
Enjolras kept silent, hoping Courfeyrac would go back to sleep, but it wasn’t to be. Courfeyrac’s eyes snapped open. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he said, sounding bleary. “I–where’s that letter–I wanted to–”
He flailed out with his arm; Enjolras caught his wrist, and drew it back to the bed. “It needn’t be done right this second, whatever it was.”
Courfeyrac made a soft, harrumphing noise. “I suppose you’re right.” He flopped back down on the pillow and closed his eyes, managing to look sulky about it.
Half-smiling, Enjolras lay down beside him.
It’s been raining all afternoon, and
showing no signs of letting up, but that’s all right. Saturday was a
busy day–putting in the garden, grocery shopping, laundry, running
errands, scouring the little thrift shops in the suburbs for the
perfect end table–but today there’s nothing urgently hanging over
them. They can afford to spend the gray, sleepy day on the couch,
reading and watching movies and drawing. And the newly planted
tomatoes need the water.
Feuilly’s half-asleep, their
paperback slipping from their hands to rest against their chest,
their head pillowed against Courfeyrac’s shoulder, when they feel the
soft touch of lips against their temple. Struggling to blink their
eyes open, they turn to look up at Courfeyrac.
whispers. "I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just. This is so
nice and cozy and I love you a lot and–“ He doesn’t need to
finish the sentence. Feuilly knows that Courfeyrac’s most natural
way of showing affection is through touch; that sometimes his love
for his friends just wells up and he has to hug or kiss or caress.
They know–without having to go through that whole discussion again–that
it doesn’t Mean Anything.
But at the same time it means
everything Feuilly could ever want and more. They smile sleepily up at
Courfeyrac, then settle back against his shoulder, their eyes
slipping closed again.
deaf feuilly meeting enjolras for the first time and enjolras isn’t familiar with his name so he asks how to pronounce it, and feuilly just shrugs because he sure as fuck doesn’t know
Interviewer: Who’s the best smelling celebrity you’ve ever met?
Hayden Christensen: I’d have to go with Natalie Portman. We’ve spent so much time together in the past few years, in pretty close quaters, and she’s always smelt wonderful. Natalie has a great aroma about her!
“Hayden and I found a rhythm together right away, learned to trust each other completely, and became co-conspirators” —Natalie Portman
Oops I’m not done talking about Courferre librarian stuff sorry
Imagine Courf being ill one day and he can’t afford to miss work (or more he doesn’t want to force any of his coworkers to have to do more to make up for him etc) and the morning is okay because one of his colleagues is around too and they’re sharing the load
But in the afternoon he’s in his own and he knows he has to pull himself together
But then the really hot librarian from upstairs who has wonderful opinions and a wonderful way with words come to chat with him and ends up staying the entire afternoon to help him and he takes all the difficult customers without even seeming to do it on purpose and Courf just gets left with the simple jobs and the polite kids
And it’s only like the next day that he finds out that Combeferre hadn’t been reassigned down in children’s because it was busier, he’d actually been supposed to have the afternoon off but he ?? Stayed to look after Courf????
Cue some very very obvious flirting and some amused glances from customers until Courf finally asks Combeferre out on a date