It’s nearing midnight, probably, and Feuilly has been dozing on Enjolras’ shoulder, book long abandoned in his lap, for a good hour when Enjolras looks up from his own studies, blue eyes twinkling.
“You should go to bed,” he wraps an arm around Feuilly, trying to gently shake him awake. “You’ll hurt your neck and you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”
Feuilly sighs deeply but doesn’t open his eyes.
“But y’hair smells good,” he mumbles, moving a little so he can settle more comfortably against Enjolras’ side. “’n it’s soft.”
Alright then, Enjolras smiles, and turns back to his book.
your baskets! The ingredients you must use in your dish are…”
sets the remote control on the coffee table, next to an empty pint of
Ben & Jerry’s and two spoons resting on the upturned ice cream
lid. Chopped is a show that they can both agree on; Enjolras likes
to learn new tricks he can use in the kitchen (he really is
getting better at cooking, he insists as Courfeyrac teases him),
while Courfeyrac enjoys most any kind of reality competition show.
two of them had been sitting together on the couch, with Courfeyrac’s
head on Enjolras’s shoulder. When Enjolras sits back again after
setting down the remote, Courfeyrac leans against him and rests his
head where it had been before, snuggling close to him. Enjolras’s
hand comes to rest on top of Courfeyrac’s, and he rubs his thumb
gently against the back of his friend’s hand.
a moment, Courfeyrac lifts his head. Enjolras looks over at him,
curious, and the look on Courfeyrac’s face is not one he recognizes.
Courfeyrac takes a deep breath.
Another breath. “Um.”
Enjolras is even more curious now. Courfeyrac’s tone of voice
doesn’t worry him, exactly, but it makes him feel uncertain.
next few words sound as cautious as Enjolras feels. “What are we?”
definitely looks confused. But Courfeyrac barely gives him time to
think before backpedalling. “Scratch that. Don’t answer that.
I’m sorry.” His hand stiffens under Enjolras’s, and he looks down
at it, then back up at Enjolras, as if to ask if this was still okay.
smiles that gentle smile of his, the one that warms something in
Courfeyrac’s chest, and squeezes his hand. “It’s all right.”
shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve never done
anything like this before. I don’t really do the romance thing, and
I know you’ve said you don’t either, but it’s—.”
leans in quickly to kiss Courfeyrac on the cheek. It works as he
intended, and Courfeyrac cuts himself off mid-sentence. “It’s
really all right. Honestly, I don’t have a word for this either.
But… that’s fine, yeah?”
eyebrows flash up for a brief moment, then sighs with relief. “Yeah.
Yeah, that’s fine.”
nestles back into the couch and pats his shoulder. “Come on, the
judging’s about to start.”
laughs and flops back down, his head finding Enjolras’s shoulder as
his hand reaches for his friend’s hand.
Maria you truly do know me!
Also I’m tagging this for #LesMisRarePairsWeek because I’m just in time before the end of the week 😀
28. Stop pinning this on me! You started it!
It is a peculiar sensation, to wake up in a world you don’t quite recognize. Courfeyrac has only felt it a few times before, mostly in the throes of truly spectacular hangovers.
Actually, the one thing that’s reassuringly familiar, this time around, is the hangover itself.
The unfamiliar things: the hotel room, which isn’t his. Enjolras pacing the length of said room, talking way too loudly for Courfeyrac’s pounding head. The ring on his finger which has already started to turn his skin green.
“I can’t believe,” Enjolras says. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
the #angst with a happy ending tag is now true
“Jehan,” says Combeferre, surrounded by two microscopes, five piles of books, more papers, three unfinished tea cups, one of coffee that’s empty, and a suspicious box making suspicious noises. “It’s late, you should really go to sleep.”
“Combeferre,” answers Jehan patiently. “It’s morning. I did went to sleep. Six hours ago. The first time you told me to do it.”
Combeferre glances at the window. The sun is quite up in the sky.
“Oh,” he says. And then, faintly, pensively. “I do wonder if it is possible i went on a trance – i have a book somewhere on missing moments i had bought for Enjolras…”
Courfeyrac worries he isn’t enough for Feuilly. Feuilly worries he isn’t doing enough.
Together, they work things out.
I’m writing this for Les Mis Rare Pairs Week because apparently that’s the kick in the pants I needed to actually write something the ship I’ve loved for months and months. It’s going to be 3 chapters but since it’s looking like I won’t finish it before the week is over, I figured I should at least post the first one today. Enjoy–and sorry about the angst, i swear it actually gets resolved in this one!
“I, ah, you know we’re getting married at the end of this
week.” Marius said, clutching Cosette’s hand tightly.
“Yes,” said Courfeyrac. “I had figured that out. The
invitation and months of planning helped, I confess.”
“Oh.” said Marius. He seemed as a loss. “Yes, right.” Cosette
nudged him gently with her arm. “Well! Since we’re getting married soon, as,
um, established, I…” He trailed off, gently biting his lower lip as he did when
he was nervous. Courfeyrac lifted an eyebrow encouragingly, and was rewarded by
the sight of Marius’ stubbornly determined face falling into place. “That is,
we though we should do this first.” Marius darted forward and kissed an
astonished Courfeyrac on the mouth.
Courfeyrac stared at him for a moment, blinking in shock. Then
he turned to stare at Cosette, ready to reassure her that her husband-to-be was
temporarily mad, but that no harm would be done in the long run. Surely. No
matter how much and for how long Courfeyrac had been wanting to kiss Marius
But Cosette was smiling at him shyly, a playful light
sparkling in her eyes as she leaned forward and kissed him too.
“Oh.” said Courfeyrac.