Les Mis Modern Aesthetic, Couples Edition: Enjolras x Feuilly

(I was starting to get skeptical that I’d have time to write a full fic for @lesmisrarepairs, so I had to at least do this for one of my favorite rare pairs.  ^_^  So… photoset and a snippet?)

“Wait.  Wait, wait, wait.  You want me to spend Thanksgiving Break at the Cape… with you.  Just… you and me.  No one else.  Did I hear that right?”

Enjolras swallowed hard against the feeling of nervous laughter doing its best to claw its way up his throat.  He’d blurted out the offer without letting it stop at his brain on the way to his mouth, without even considering how it would look from the other side of this conversation.  Feuilly was a freshman.  Enjolras was a first year law student.  They’d barely known each other three months, for all that they’d clicked as easily as Enjolras had with Combeferre four years prior—something that Enjolras hadn’t been able to say of anyone else, not even Courfeyrac.  

Enjolras had no idea what Feuilly usually did with his time at the holidays, if there was a foster family that still had enough space for him in their hearts to willingly take him in, if there were friends who’d already asked, if he even celebrated Thanksgiving, at all.  What Enjolras did know was that he, himself, had a loving family, a host of good friends, and more than his own fair share of invitations for the break… and how selfish was he to throw it all away on what must look like a whim?

Oh *gosh*, Enjolras had to say something.  Offer an explanation.  Make an excuse.  Something about Alpha-Beta-Kappa?  Maybe say that he was inviting everyone on the current board?  *Anything.*  Anything to get that look off of Feuilly’s face.  Anything to make this look less like what it must look like—a graduate student taking advantage of a freshman’s admiration, because that was what it must look like, right?

But before Enjolras even had a chance, the bemused look on Feuilly’s face eased, that small frown inverted into an even smaller smile and his entire posture softened.  Feuilly took a step closer, easing into Enjolras’ personal space as though he’d belonged there all along.  Enjolras’ breath stuttered and froze in his throat, his eyes going wide as Feuilly took his hand and entwined their fingers together.

Feuilly’s smile widened, and, as easily as that, Enjolras could breathe, again.  

“Enjolras… I’d be delighted.”

(…more to come if I have time between now and Saturday?  -.-;;;)


ahh if you’re still taking more prompts – Courfeyrac and Feuilly (obv), ♠ – one character adjusting the other’s jewelry/neck tie/ etc.?

I was having a rotten day (still am), so I thought maybe tackling one of these might put me in a better mood?

Anyway, this ficlet lives in the future of my Fais de Beaux Rêves series.  You don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on, you just need to know this: Feuilly has a foster sister (Tania), who he is still close to and he and (an aro/ace) Courfeyrac have a lovely little queerplatonic relationship going on.  Enjoy?  ^_^

Feuilly reached up to pull at his bow tie.  He was pretty sure that the knot was supposed to be at the base of his throat, but given what a difficult time he was having swallowing around it, it felt like it was in his throat, instead.  He’d never worn a bow tie before, couldn’t have imagined a circumstance in his life that would have required it, but here he was.  In a bow tie.  And a tux.  With a chapel full of people just outside the doors and absolutely *certain* that he was going to royally fuck up.

Just as Feuilly was reaching up to pull on the bowtie, yet again, another’s hand reached out and covered his own before gently pulling it away.  A soft “tsk, tsk” noise came from somewhere over his right shoulder.  A moment later that other hand returned with its twin and reached up to loosen the bow tie just enough so that Feuilly could breathe, then proceeded to smooth the lay of his shirt and the lapels of his coat.

Feuilly turned in the circle of those arms, lips stretching into a smile that had to be just this side of gooey.  Courfeyrac was already smiling when he turned and leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips.  Such gestures were more common now than they had been in the beginning, but Feuilly was still leery of pursuing, of asking more than Courfeyrac was willing or able to give.  So the kiss he gave in return was equally light, a brush of lips, nothing more.  Still… it was enough.  Courfeyrac’s smile widened as he finished his tidying of Feuilly’s clothes.  Into the silence, he said, “Relax.  You’ll do just fine.  You just walk up the aisle, do your thing and that’s it.  The whole thing will be over before you know it and then there will be cake.”

Feuilly huffed out a soft laugh.  “I do like cake.”

“See?  A silver lining.”  Courfeyrac stepped back, eyes swiftly assessing of his handiwork.  He nodded.  “Perfect.  You’re going to do Tania proud.”

Feuilly reached out to grab Courfeyrac’s hand to stop him as he turned to leave.  His breath caught in his throat on his first attempt to speak, but he cleared his throat and tried again.  “I know you never wanted… but I… Do you ever regret that people assume…?”

Courfeyrac’s gaze softened even as his grip on Feuilly’s hand tightened.  “No.”


“No.”  Courfeyrac’s thumb brushed slowly over the wedding band on Feuilly’s finger, the smooth silver a twin to the one on his own.  He smiled again, a brief laugh escaping his lips as he shook his head.  “Maybe I’ve mellowed in my older age, but the things that bothered me when I was twenty don’t bother me nearly as much any more.  And maybe that’s you.  Maybe it’s because you never push.  Maybe it’s because you respect my boundaries.  Maybe it’s because you’re willing to let this relationship be what it is without trying to make it something it isn’t.  Maybe it’s just because you really were the right person at the right time.  I don’t know, and I don’t care.  I love being married to you.  I love *you*.  Let everyone assume what they will.  You and I know better.  Our friends know better.  Your family knows better, even if mine is a little slow on the uptake.  It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re happy, right?”

Feuilly’s heart rate kicked up at that, for any entirely different reason than his earlier nerves.  It wasn’t often that either of them dared ask the other so explicitly if they were happy with the way things had turned out, but this was a better answer than Feuilly could have ever hoped for.  He leaned forward for another kiss, whispering his answer into Courfeyrac’s lips.  “Damned right.”

When Courfeyrac leaned back, the smile on his lips had turned playful.  He spun Feuilly around and pushed him towards the door.  “Then get out there and walk Tania down the aisle.  The sooner we get this wedding started, the sooner we can get to the party that comes after… and the cake.”

Moments later, as Feuilly was watching Courfeyrac walk away to claim his seat next to Fantine and Darnell, a gentle hand reached out to tuck itself into the crook of his arm.  Turning to take in the full on radiance that was his foster sister’s beaming smile, Feuilly couldn’t help but smile in return.  “You ready?”

Tania leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss into Feuilly’s cheek before answering.  “Didn’t you hear your husband?  Let’s get down this aisle and get to the cake!“

Feuilly laughed.  “You’re both hopeless.”

“But you wouldn’t have either of us any other way, would you, big brother?”

Feuilly leaned down to touch his forehead to Tania’s, before turning forward to face the church aisle, and the seat waiting for him next to Courfeyrac.  “No.  No, I wouldn’t.  Not for the world.”