Chapter Text
Enjolras was a flurry of movement. Fast and frantic as he angrily paced a path in the back room of the Musain. He was seething and gesturing wildly as he complained, his shoes squeaking against the polished wood of the floor as he turned. Combeferre, sat at their regular table, watched silently as Enjolras’ fury slowly dimmed to a steady simmer. Exhausted, Enjolras dropped into the chair opposite and groaned, resting his head atop his folded arms. Combeferre leant forward and stroked his blonde curls gently.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you ..” Combeferre began, fingers rubbing the blonde’s scalp gently. It had been a long weekend for both he and Enjolras, who had been forced to visit his parents at their lavish home from Friday to Sunday. Combeferre had been unable to join him due to a prior agreement he had made to help Courfeyrac re-decorate and move his furniture into his new apartment. The horror of having to put together 50 IKEA pieces was significantly less painful, however, once Enjolras’ frantic texts had begun.
Enjolras
[11:05]: It’s only 11 and already they are discussing my failures over breakfast. E x
[12: 45]: Oh God, Ferre, they’ve started on matchmaking. I am very tempted to tell them where they can shove their neutral family bullshit. E x
[13:23]: So I told them I’m gay. I’ll be shocked if you can’t hear the horrified and furious screaming where you are. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, they’ve killed me and buried me in the garden amongst the petunias. E x
The weekend had continued to get progressively worse for Enjolras who kept Combeferre updated with an intense and furious collection of texts and occasional snapchats of his seething face or a smashed plate. As best as possible, Combeferre had tried to soothe and comfort his furious friend as he’d screwed together furniture and wrestled Grantaire for a seat on Courfeyrac’s new sofa as they’d settled to watch a movie for dinner. No texts or photos shared, however, could match the feeling of Enjolras once again safe in his arms, suitcase abandoned at his side as he’d buried his face in Combeferre’s chest the second he’d entered the Musain.
“Not your fault” Enjolras responded, lifting his head to rest his chin on the palm of his hand. “I don’t know why I went. It always turns out the same way” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Combeferre frowned.
“Still. If I’d been with you .. You wouldn’t have had to deal with them alone” Enjolras let out a short laugh and shook his head.
“No, they’d have just made it worse. Trust me. Besides, your photos kept me going” He paused, then asked with a small grin “Tell me that photo of Courfeyrac drawing on Grantaire’s face was real, otherwise I’ll riot” He joked quietly. Combeferre laughed and nodded. Saturday night, after a house party at Jehan and Bahorel’s, Grantaire had passed out on the floor making him a perfect target for a very tipsy and giggly Courfeyrac who had been armed with a black marker pen and an enormous amount of courage.
“That was very much real” Combeferre smiled, shuffling his chair closer to Enjolras’ in order to bracket him between his legs. “But are we going to fill our time with talk about Courfeyrac or .. ?” He trailed off with a smile as Enjolras swivelled sideways in his chair to rest his legs between Combeferre’s.
“Courfeyrac’s a very interesting topic of conversation” Enjolras smiled, resting a hand on Combeferre’s left knee, stroking circles on it with his thumb.
“That I don’t deny” Combeferre said, picking up Enjolras’ free hand to kiss his palm gently. “But I can think of something much better to do” He smiled, catching Enjolras in a gentle kiss before he could reply. With fingers carding through long blonde curls, he leant into the Amis’ fearless leader and grinned into the kiss as he felt Enjolras respond with fiery passion, hands tangling in Combeferre’s hair as he pulled him closer. Eventually they broke apart, Enjolras flushed and eyes dark as Combeferre pressed gentle kisses to his nose, cheeks and forehead.
“I love you .. “ Enjolras smiled, pressing his forehead to rest against Combeferre’s.
“I love you too” He responded before pulling Enjolras into another kiss, slower but just as passionate. They continued giving each other slow and small kisses and talking quietly until their friends arrived and the meeting began.
Combeferre smiled as he watched Enjolras speak. Next time, he decided, he would go with his friend and introduce himself not as Enjolras’ boyfriend, but his fiancé. The ring box in his pocket prepared for their later dinner.