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The Amis’ annual holiday party was approaching and Combeferre was in crisis. They had recently come to a realization regarding one of their two best friends- they were completely, utterly and irrevocably in love with Courfeyrac. It had been a long time coming, inevitable even, though Combeferre didn’t tend to throw words like that around; Courfeyrac was as bright as the sun and they couldn’t help but be pulled into his orbit. They’d met each other in the second grade when, chasing a butterfly around the playground, Combeferre had neglected to watch where he was going and run straight into another child. Both of them ended up on the ground, but Courfeyrac had cheerfully jumped straight back up and held out a hand for them to take. From that moment on they had been practically inseparable, sticking to each other’s sides through kickball disputes and treehouse turf wars, the dark days of middle school and the turbulence of high school, until now.
Courfeyrac was dating Jehan.
Combeferre liked Jehan quite a bit, fae had unfailingly been kind to them, even when they had been under pressure at a rally and snapped at faer. Now, however, they were finding it increasingly difficult to maintain a pleasant façade around faer, especially when fae was with Courfeyrac. They ostensibly realized that they were being completely unfair- it wasn’t Jehan’s fault Courfeyrac decided he wanted to date faer instead of Combeferre- but still, having to watch the person they’d been in love with since they were eight fall for somebody else was miserable. Enjolras had been no help, proclaiming that ey wanted no part of the situation and that the two of them had to work it out or nothing would be resolved. Usually, Combeferre would be confident in his ability to come up with a plan but now, faced with a hopeless situation and with neither of his usual allies by his side, he had no idea what to do.
The Amis’ annual holiday party was approaching and Courfeyrac was in crisis. She (and it was definitely she today, yesterday’s pants and bowtie discarded over the back of a chair in favor of a skater skirt and bulky sweater) was completely, utterly and irrevocably in love with Combeferre. She had, of course, decided that the most logical way to get them to fall for her was to pretend to date Jehan, though now for the life of her she couldn’t remember why. It had only driven them away, and honestly she should have seen it coming; it was a logical reaction, to become less openly affectionate, less emotionally attached to somebody who was in a relationship with another person. Sometimes, when she was just turning from pecking Jehan on the cheek or hugging faer hello when fae came into the Musain, she thought she could see a flash of- something on Combeferre’s face, though what it was she was never sure. It was probably nothing, not jealousy or longing or any of the things she hoped for every time she saw Combeferre, not what she really wanted. It was hard, being in unrequited love with her best friend, and it didn’t help that Enjolras refused to give her any advice.
“Enjolras, please! I know it’s not the most logical plan but-“ she had begun, stuttering to a halt when she realized she had literally no idea where she was going with her thought.
Ey gave her an unimpressed glare to top any she had seen before, even the time that she and Grantaire had spiked the punch with absinthe at the previous year’s party, and crossed eir arms.
“This situation is beyond ridiculous,” ey stated flatly. “Why, exactly, did you think that pretending to date Jehan would help you?”
Courfeyrac was lost for words. Enjolras huffed and rolled eir eyes, then appeared to come to a resolution. “Courfeyrac, you’re coming to the party. I don’t care that your brilliant plan is going to make it awkward, this is your fault and you’re going to figure out how to fix it.” Eir tone brooked no disagreement and she was left with a growing sense of dread rising in her stomach. All night long she was going to have to watch Combeferre not care about her- no. That was far too harsh for the way they had been acting these past few weeks. Courfeyrac was going to have to pretend to be in love with Jehan, of all people (who she did love quite a lot, but not that way), and watch Combeferre act no differently than normal. It was going to break her heart, couldn’t Enjolras see that? It was only when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her shoulders that she realized she had spoken aloud. Ey held her close until her breathing calmed from its frantic rush, then pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “Courfeyrac,” ey said, voice gentle, “everything is going to be okay.”
Everything, Combeferre decided, was awful. Courfeyrac and Jehan had just walked into the party, hands entwined, and were now standing in the doorway beneath a piece of mistletoe held aloft by a grinning Joly, who was sitting on Bossuet’s shoulders. They looked at each other for a moment, then Jehan leaned up and whispered something to Courfeyrac. He (and it was definitely he today, black-and-white pronoun pin bold on his shirt collar) immediately began laughing, the loud bright laughter that Combeferre wanted to bottle and take to the lab and put in the mass spectrometer to figure out what the hell could make something so happy. In the next heartbeat, he and Jehan were kissing, faces tilted and bodies curved in exactly the right way to make Combeferre regret every time he had bitten back a “by the way I’m in love with you” and Jehan was twisting fingers in his hair and Courfeyrac’s hands were slipping under faer sweater and if they sat there for a single second longer they were going to be sick.
Combeferre didn’t feel the blood rush to their head as they stood, didn’t feel anything at all as they slipped through the doorway and out into the hall (and that was a lie, they felt every pulse-pounding second of it, every step that carried them closer to and then farther away from Courfeyrac, a Doppler effect transmitted in heat and breath). They made it halfway to the elevator before they broke, tears coming hot and bitter as they slumped against the wall. It made no sense- Courfeyrac was clearly happy, so they should be happy too. Combeferre was being selfish and greedy and unfair and they needed to just accept that Courfeyrac would never-
and there were steps coming, soft on the floor but loud as thunder in the quiet hall.
Combeferre knew who it was.
They wished they didn’t.
Courfeyrac crouched down next to them, eyes wide with alarm. “ ‘Ferre, why are you crying? You’re not the type to just take off like that, what’s wrong-“ he cut off as Combeferre twisted away, hiding their face and the truth written on it. He didn’t give up, though; he followed them around until both of them were pressed to the wall and Combeferre had nowhere left to run. They let out a shaky breath and accepted that they were too tired to lie again, far too exhausted for the charade of pretending they weren’t stupidly in love with-
Courfeyrac gasped.
Combeferre swore. They hadn’t meant to say that out loud they didn’t mean they didn’t want-
Courfeyrac’s lips were on theirs, tentative and soft. Combeferre’s entire body stiffened as though a current ran through it, and for the warmth they felt one may as well have. He pulled back and grinned his giant look-at-this-moth grin, the one Combeferre wished was theirs and theirs alone.
It made them think of the way he had smiled at-
Fuck.
“Courfeyrac, you’re dating Jehan!” Combeferre hissed, tone accusatory to hide the pain seeping into every fiber of their being. To their surprise, Courfeyrac’s smile never dimmed, never warped to guilty or secretive or anything they had expected. “No, I’m not,” he said.
“Yes, you definitely are!” they yelled, not willing to let themself believe that this might-
Courfeyrac grabbed their hands, laced their fingers together tight and reassuring. “I am,” he said, very seriously, “not dating Jehan. Not for real, anyways, and fae’s perfectly aware of that. We were pretending to date so you would notice me and maybe-“
Combeferre cut him off. “That’s the most idiotic plan I’ve ever heard, and I’ve known you since you were planning to ride an eagle into space.”
Courfeyrac scoffed. “That wasn’t idiotic, that was- well, what it was is beside the point because the point is that I’m in love with you and I’m not dating Jehan and we should really, really be kissing right now.”
There came a loud cheer from the Amis in the hallway (all of them, because their friends were unapologetic eavesdroppers) and Combeferre sighed, a smile twisting his mouth. “Well, if you insist.”
Courfeyrac leaned forward again and this time- it was perfect.