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On the Richter scale of headaches, Enjolras' factored a ten. He rubbed his temples, hoping that no one would notice the panic he was trying to contain inside of him. It was Secret Santa Day, and Enjolras, most unlike him, was unprepared.
It had been three weeks ago when Courfeyrac had sauntered into the cafe waving about a Santa hat, looking mighty pleased with himself. "Friends and brothers!" he had called, standing on a chair, ignoring the onlookers, "it has been a hard year for all!"
"Hear, hear!" cheered Bahorel, who was reclining in his chair watching Courfeyrac with unabashed adoration. Courfeyrac bowed in his direction.
"We have had protests and government changes, occupy movements and a new series of Glee to work through, as well as a recession, so I thought to myself 'self, shall we not make Christmas a little easier for us this year?'" He paused for emphasis, eyebrows raised in an expression of mock thought. "Let's shall!" he jumped down from the chair, and held up the hat once more. "I had the most fantastic idea that we should do a secret santa!" he beamed, watching everyone's expressions. "I already put our names into the hat."
He began passing it around, Enjolras watched everyone's expressions as they reacted the name on the paper they picked out. Enjolras found himself hoping for Combeferre, simply because Combeferre had been talking about a book he had been wanting to read quite recently, so it would be very easy to purchase such a thing and not waste time on it. Enjolras was not very good at presents- he had always felt like the worst person when he'd give a voucher of some sort to his friends and in return they'd give very well thought out and incredibly personal, sweet items. Courfeyrac's eyes twinkled as he passed the hat to Enjolras.
"Oh, and, let's not do vouchers okay guys?" he addressed the group as a whole, but Enjolras couldn't help but grin sheepishly at his friend. Courfeyrac winked at him, and Enjolras sighed internally- why did he have to love a man whose biggest pleasure in life was making Enjolras' life difficult?
He uncurled his fist, and looked at the small white piece of paper, with Courfeyrac's chicken-scratch writing scrawled over it in blotchy fountain pen. Feuilly.
Combeferre was Grantaire's secret santa, a difficult task, Enjolras considered. He'd have bought Grantaire wine and be done with it- the man would have been happy at least. But Combeferre had bought him a cheese platter and a book on Leonardo Da Vinci's 'hidden messages'. Enjolras found himself applauding with the others as Grantaire unwrapped the presents, beamed, and pulled Combeferre into a hug. Enjolras' heart was warmed by the action, but not before it was soured by the thought that he was not going to be able to bring Feuilly the same joy.
Enjolras had always felt a sort of affinity with Feuilly; a need to impress-yes, but there was more; Feuilly was a man who had gone through many of the possible oppressions that Enjolras was striving to eradicate. He was, in Enjolras' eyes anyway, a hero and a paragon to all. So the pressure he felt to create something wonderful was like an anvil pressing down on his chest, almost crushing him.
Two days after he drew Feuilly's name, he turned to request help. "Courf." He asked desperately, down the phone at three in the morning.
"Mm, yes?" His friend sounded tired, but not annoyed.
"I need your help." Enjolras hissed, staring at the mind map he had scribbled hastily thinking of ideas for Feuilly. There seemed to be some mumbling down the other end of the phone, and Enjolras realised with a jolt that Courfeyrac was possibly not alone.
"Hang on, buddy." Enjolras hung on, debating whether or not to 'hang up' until Courfeyrac spoke again, much clearer. Enjolras assumed he'd moved rooms for more privacy "What's the matter?"
"I want to change my secret santa."
Courfeyrac chuckled, "I don't think it works like that."
"There's no hard and fast rules!" Enjolras protested. "Besides, Secret Santa is a bourgeouis capitalistic ideal, scratch that, Christmas is a capitalistic holiday made to exploit people into thinking that the only way to prove their feelings is through money and the excessive spending of it!"
Courfeyrac was silent for a moment. "Well, yes. So you better find a way to make a present yourself without the use of foreign slave labour and minimal cost." he sounded amused.
"I'm going to boycott this whole dumb thing." Enjolras threatened, ignoring Courfeyrac's suggestion at making something himself. He was too friendly with real artists, and one of them happened to be Feuilly.
"Okay!" Courfeyrac chuckled. Enjolras heard another voice- female and a half-murmered conversation took place. "Well, er, Enjolras, sleep on it, I bet you some good ideas will appear to you in your dreams-- I've got to go."
Enjolras sighed, "Night, Courfeyrac." he hung up, scrunched up the mind map and launched it at the waste paper basket in the corner of his room where it bounced on the rim and landed on the floor next to it. He threw himself back onto his bed with a groan.
Grantaire had even managed to fulfil the secret santa deal, he had picked out Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac was easily pleased, but Grantaire had obviously spent a lot of time and effort on his gift. He presented Courfeyrac with a canvas portrait of their group. Courfeyrac was painted in the center, an arm thrown around Combeferre and another wound about Marius, and from there on, the rest. Grantaire had even painted himself in, even though he had placed himself at the end and as an afterthought.
"Seriously R?! For me?" Courfeyrac had spent a few minutes in silence, running his fingers over the painted figures of his nearest and dearest. "I love it. I love it so much!"
"Enjolras!" Feuilly's voice made him turn around. It was rare to see Feuilly during the day, when he usually worked, and even rarer to see him on campus, where he was not a student. Enjolras' heart leapt as he took in Feuilly's dark skin and bright eyes. He gave his friend a quizzical look. "I'm on my break. Look! look at this!" Feuilly shoved an envelope into Enjolras' chest.
"What is it?" he asked, trying not to flush as he realised Feuilly had actively sought him out to show him something- he didn't know why he was so pleased, but he was, more than he could express into words.
"I was going to save it for Christmas but I couldn't keep it a secret from you." Feuilly beamed, and Enjolras' heart skipped a beat because a) Feuilly was thinking about him in a capacity to give him something for Christmas and b) Feuilly's smile should be photographed and put on promotional posters because Enjolras was sure that it was almost as co-ersive as Courfeyrac's. He kept his cool, pleased that his hands weren't trembling and opened the envelope, taking out a neatly folded letter and nearly giving out a high pitched scream as he saw who it was signed off from.
"You got a reply from General Lamarque??" He beamed, eyes reading through the letter as breakneck speed. He'd pursue it later at a more leisurely pace, going over the handwriting and the words and subjecting it all to memory, but for now, he was desperate to show Feuilly how much such a thing meant to him.
"Well, we've been talking about doing it for ages. Sending him a letter, I mean, so I just did it, using your essay outline- I hope you don't mind that I signed it off from both of us. I would have asked.. but it was supposed to be a surprise." Feuilly became flustered quickly, trying to explain himself. Enjolras placed a hand on his shoulder.
"This is possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." He said, eyes serious, boring straight into Feuilly. Feuilly gulped, and Enjolras hastily dropped his arm in case he was coming across too intense- something he didn't mind with anyone else, but he never wanted to be too scary for Feuilly.
Now he had to make sure he could come up with a gift that would top that.
"Please, please, please can I go next?" Jehan asked the group. "I really want to give Joly his!" . Joly clapped his hands in excitement.
"Gimme the goods!" he beamed. Jehan handed over a medium sized cardboard box with the word 'F R A G I L E' printed in Jehan's elegant gothic script. Joly paused before opeing it. "It's not an animal, is it?" He asked cautiosly, his hands on either side of the box. Jehan laughed and shook his head.
"I was tempted though. I saw some snakes in the pet store that I thought would go perfectly with your shoes- you know, those green ones you own?" Jehan said, and no one could tell if he was joking or not. Courfeyrac cleared his throat from where he was sat next to Grantaire, a hand in his friend's hair as a show of companionship.
"Joly, I really want to see what's in there!" Joly took the hint, and slowly unboxed a human skull. Except it wasn't just a skull, no, Jehan had taken great care to paint sections of it and label it.
"I must admit to cheating a little. Combeferre helped me with a few of the names that had escaped my memory." Jehan admitted. He gave Joly a worried look, as though suddenly frightened it wasn't a good present. Joly turned the skull over in his hands carefully, before carefully placing it back in the box.
"It's... fantastic." Joly gave his verdict. "Very you, and very me!" They hugged, and the group applauded again. Enjolras' headache was building up, if it had been an earthquake before, it was now a fully fledged Day After Tomorrow style environmental apocalypse of the pain scale. He looked from the corner of his eye at Feuilly, who was sat next to Bahorel, grinning widely and clapping his worked hands as hard as he could.
Enjolras had been sat, with his fingers steepled under his chin for a long while now, almost an hour and a half, when Combeferre finally spoke up. "Something on your mind?" he asked, but either Enjolras was so lost in his own thought that he did not notice his flat mate or he had ignored him. Now Enjolras never really ignored people on purpose so Combeferre assumed it was the former. He put down his mug of tea, and stood by Enjolras, resting on the arm of the sofa and asked the question again.
Enjolras started so hard that Combeferre couldn't help but laugh a little, until Enjolras was laughing too. And then they were laughing together for far too long; as soon as one quietened down, they'd look at the other and set of howling again. Out of breath, Enjolras shook out his hair; "Sorry, I-did you say something?"
It took all of Combeferre's self control not to burst out laughing once more, so he bit the inside of his cheeks for a moment before inhaling deeply- trick he had learned from years at school with Courfeyrac who always found the most inappropriate times to be well, inappropriate. "Ahem, well, I just noticed that you had something on your mind. May I help?" he paused. "But I can't swap secret santas with you." he added hastily as an after thought.
Enjolras' head whipped round quickly. "How did you know that would be the first thing I wanted to ask!?"
"Oh, Courfeyrac sent round a group text forbidding anyone helping you cheat his system."
Enjolras shook his head, "I am glad he is on our side, you know. In another life he'd have made a rather excellent dicatator."
"Yes, he just puts his diabolical skills into organizing rallies and secret santas."
Enjolras rested his head against the sofa. "How are you doing with your secret santa? Better than me, I hope."
"Well, actually, I'm struggling rather." Combeferre admitted, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"Do you think Courfeyrac rigged the hat some how?"
"As brilliant as our friend is, I don't think he's managed to even make Fate and Chance work to his fancies." Combeferre responded seriously.
"It's only a matter of time." Joked Enjolras, sure that if anyone were to be elected as some sort of god then Courfeyrac would be the one. "I don't know what to get my person. They deserve so much but everything I think of isn't enough. "
"Well, you know how they say, it is the thought that counts, Enjolras."
"But the thought isn't enough for them! If I could simply breathe out my thoughts and sculpt a state of how I see them, and how much their friendship means to me, it still wouldn't be enough to show the extent of my.." he waved a hand to search for just the right word. "gratitude. How thankful I am they exsist. That sort of thing."
Combeferre had a good idea who Enjolras' secret santa was.
Courfeyrac handed Enjolras a neatly wrapped present with a small smile. "Merry Christmas, Enjolras."
Enjolras beamed and felt a large amount of panic rise- if he was expected to give his gift next then he was royally screwed. He should've mentioned it before they started swapping that his present wasn't completely ready. He carefully began to rip away the paper, revealing a box- but stuck onto the box was a gift card. He raised an eyebrow at Courfeyrac.
"There's no hard and fast rules." He parroted Enjolras, with a cheeky shrug. "Besides, there's more." he bounced on the balls of his feet. Aware that everyone was watching him closely he opened the box, ready for something to jump out at him, but nothing did, instead there was a length of red velvet, wrapped around a book "The Rights of Man| Written Constitutions from the start of time". He flipped the book open, and noticed that Courfeyrac had written a small message on the inside cover;
for enjolras,
in the hopes he will remember his
friend Courfeyrac when he becomes president
Merry Christmas.
:)
He felt a lump in his throat that had nothing to do with just how touched he was, he stood and squeezed Courfeyrac's face in thanks, much to everyone elses mirth.
"Well, how is anyone supposed to top that?" he asked his friends, despite feeling incredibly proud of them all for how well they knew each other and how amazing they've been and the quality of gifts they've produced, and even more ashamed of himself that he was not as good as them.
Perhaps he could take Feuilly to the Polish market and get him all sorts of delicacies? No, no, that would mean making Feuilly spend time with him, and that wasn't exactly as selfless as a Christmas gift should be. Perhaps tickets to the theatre? Feuilly never really had that kind of chance... but no, Feuilly was always so busy working, and he supposed he'd rather his free evenings to be relaxing. He sighed. All he wanted was to find something that was just perfect, as perfect as Feuilly was; it should not have been this hard.
Enjolras was about to make an excuse, ("I left it at my flat.... I'll be right back." and then he'd run off, emigrate to another country and never think of this experience again) but Bahorel spoke up, his loud voice dorwning out anyone who wanted to say a word.
"I want my present!!" He cast an impish grin at Enjolras.
"Very well." Enjolras nodded, taking up his leaderly role. "Who was his secret santa?" Joly raised his hand, and rummaged in his back pack to give Bahorel his gift.
"It's not much." He warned, but Bahorel took it eagerly, and let out a jubilent shout when he opened it. Joly had spent a lot of time meticulously putting together a "book of teacher-proof excuses" in which on each page he had written an excuse that Bahorel could use not to go to university, or why his essay wasn't handed in, with varying degrees of silliness. Bahorel flicked through them, laughing at the ones Joly had written- his knowledge of rare tropical diseases coming in handy.
"Right, now its my turn!" Bahorel yelled, throwing Combeferre a small package wrapped in what looked like a brown paper bag. Combeferre made to catch it, and missed. Feuilly jumped out of his seat and caughtit with the tips of his fingers to a collective sigh of relief.
"Maybe we should make it a rule that the throwing of presents isn't permitted during exchanges. Or ever." Enjolras suggested, patting Feuilly's back (swallowing down guilt) in thanks. Combeferre ripped the brown paper bag, which revealed a mug that had Bahorel had used a marker pen to write "word's geekiest cool dude" in his best handwriting, which was only a little better than an illegible scrawl. Combeferre laughed.
"I'll always drink from this. It's brilliant." He shook his head, but looked incredibly pleased that Bahorel thought of him as a 'cool dude'.
"What if I buy him a holiday?" Enjolras bounced the idea off of Courfeyrac and Combeferre, the three of them were sat at Courfeyrac's flat. He had asked them round because Marius was out with his girlfriend and so had the place to himself, but Enjolras wondered if it was because Courfeyrac was lonely now that he was not the only person in Marius' life. Not that he would ever say such a thing.
Courfeyrac shook his head. "No one could accept something that big."
"What about friendship bracelets?" Combeferre suggested, "They're relatively cheap if youre absolutely certain you don't want to make them yourself, and they are quite symbolic.. of, you know, friendship. And things."
Enjolras nodded. "I suppose, but..." He couldn't word the way it didn't feel like the right gift. "I wouldn't want something that would be a two-way gift. The gift of friendship is theirs to give."
"You are impossible." grumbled Courfeyrac. "You will think of something. It sounds like it's there, in the corner of your head, waiting to be found."
Combeferre looked at Courfeyrac with surprise. "That was quite poetic."
"Thank you." He sounded smug.
"You two are no help at all." Enjolras shoved a cushion on top of his face and pouted.
Enjolras' turn, Feuilly eyed him knowingly because he was the only one left to have no recieved a gift. He swallowed, preparing a speech to apologise. Oh god, Feuilly was never going to forgive him.
"How about we take a break?" Courfeyrac called suddenly. "Save the suspense and all." he winked at Enjolras, and Enjolras wondered how Courfeyrac knew exactly what Enjolras needed at any given time.
"Yeah, I'm parched. I'm going to get a drink in my mug." Combeferre followed Courfeyrac's lead, guiding Grantaire and Bahorel to the bar in front of him, shooting a look as he went at Courfeyrac.
Courfeyrac had bought Enjolras a few minutes to either compose himself, or to get Feuilly in private and tell him why and how he failed as a friend. "Feuilly.. can we talk for a moment?"
Feuilly had just been rooting around in his jacet pocket to get money for a drink, but he looked up and smiled. "Sure." He stood up and followed Enjolras to the back room that they technically hadn't rented out for that night, but no one was likely to complain. Enjolras shut the door behind them and took a deep breath. "What's up?" Feuilly asked immediately, noticing his friend and mentor was looking nervous and pale.
"I didn't get you a present." he blurted out. At first Feuilly looked confused because he couldn't understand Enjolras speaking so quickly, but when he deciphered Enjolras's phrase he furrowed his eyebrows into an amused-shocked expression. "I'm really really really sorry. I really- I had a lot of good ideas, in fact, some of them were incredibly good if I say so myself, but I kept thinking, well, I just kept thinking that they were not good enough, simply because you are too good-- no wait, you must let me rephrase that. What I mean is, I respect you so much as a person not just what you bring to the cause and everything I tried to find to convey that didn't seem good enough, too cheap or tacky or not very you I have literally spent the last three weeks running around like a headless chicken and honestly, please just name me one thing and it will be yours." Feuilly watched as Enjolras' face steadily turned more and more pink, before he paused his very fast speaking to take a breath and watch Feuilly's reaction. His eyebrows had been raised higher and higher as Enjolras had rambled, mainly from the shock at hearing everything Enjolras had to say about him. "I'm sorry that was a bit full on--mmph!" Feuilly pressed his hand against Enjolras' mouth to make him pause.
"One thing?" Feuilly asked, his voice low and uncertain. He didn't remove his hand as though frightened of Enjolras' answer. Enjolras nodded his head as best he could, uncertain about how he felt about having Feuilly shushing him in this way, in such close proximity. Feuilly slowly took his hand away. There was a little pause, Enjolras staring openly at Feuilly, unsure how to progress the conversation, Feuilly wringing his hands together, nibbling on his bottom lip.
"So... do you have anything in mind?" Enjolras pressed.
Feuilly looked into Enjolras' eyes for a moment, as though weighing up the pros and cons, before deciding against asking for what he wanted. After all, he wanted Enjolras to kiss him out of romance or attraction or something- not because he couldn't find a gift. Feuilly shook his head. "No. I'm kind of happy anyway." Feuilly admitted. "I never know what to do with my face when people give me presents."
Enjolras chuckled a little. "You are... are you- I mean, Feuilly, I do need to get you something. And I intend to. But, well, if there's anything I know you will enjoy for certain please tell me. Mainly for my own selfish reasons, really, so then I don't have to do as much work." He joked.
Feuilly shook his head and smiled. "You gave me a present allready. All those other presents that everyone got each other- it all said the same thing you just said to me. That you respect me as a friend and a collegue is.. more than I could have wished for. So, thank you." Feuilly held his hand out to Enjolras to shake but Enjolras went to hug him, resulting in a slight awkward pause as they switched roles- Enjolras stepping back to give room to extend his arm and Feuilly going to hug him.
Feuilly laughed. "Hug on three?" he asked.
Enjolras nodded. "I think that sounds like the best course of action."
"One... two--"
"Wait, on three, or after three?" Enjolras inquired, suddenly worried about messing up again.
Feuilly rolled his eyes, muttered "three" and pulled Enjolras in for a big hug, hoping to put a lot of his feelings into the action. Enjolras knew Feuilly wasn't the most tactile of people, and so appreciated the gesture much more, inhaling Feuilly's scent (he smelled of pine, hard work, and liberty to Enjolras). After a while, Feuilly cleared his throat and made to move away, Enjolras hastily pulled out of his grip also, and focused on straightening out his christmas jumper (he had decided that if everyone else was wearing there's then he should wear his, after all, it was only fair).
"Merry Christmas?"
Enjolras looked up, seizing all his courage as he debated his next action. To hell with it! He leant down, and pressed his lips against Feuilly's. It was a fast, closed-mouth kiss, Enjolras's hands on either side of Feuilly's face. It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but both Feuilly and Enjolras were flushed and light-headed by the time Enjolras pulled away, looking wary as though he'd made a giant mistake.
"Um." Feuilly said. Enjolras looked away.
"Uhm." he was speechless for once.
Feuilly swallowed, a small smile on his face. "Well, I guess you figured out what I wanted for Christmas."
Enjolras' head snapped up like a meerkat's. He let out a high pitched "huh?"- his brain had stopped working. In fact, Enjolras was sure that it had stopped working ever since Feuilly had been introduced to him.
Feuilly leaned up, and pressed a small kiss on Enjolras' cheek. "Merry Christmas. I do think we may need to have a talk. A talk-talk. But not right now, our friends are probably waiting for us." Feuilly held out his hand for Enjolras to shake, and he shook it, slowly getting back to his normal self but with a wider smile than ever.
"If they're not pressed against the door trying to listen in.."
From behind the door, Bahorel scrambled to get away. "Shit, they're on to us! Abort! abort! Abort, I say!"