Work Text:
I.
The stillness in the air was almost tangible, the silence oppressing and the rain more depressing than refreshing. Combeferre adjusted the table light on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. After taking a deep breath and a sip of his tea, he clicked on the Google Meet link Enjolras had shared in their WhatsApp group. He was looking forward to seeing his friends, but the day at work had been especially gruelling and if he was being honest, he just wanted to curl up in bed and watch videos about his newest obsession: a Scotish guy on YouTube cleaning cows’ hooves. Then again, hanging out with Enjolras was always fun, even if they were silent or had a bad day. Enjolras had recently taken up knitting and Combeferre enjoyed seeing the improvements his friend made.
And then there was Courfeyrac.
Courfeyrac, who was now living with Enjolras.
See, the situation was as follows: Combeferre lived with Enjolras, Courfeyrac lived with Marius. Combeferre had once harboured a crush on Courfeyrac when they were around 14-15 - they had kissed once and found it too weird, so nothing ever came of it. In January, those feelings had suddenly resurfaced.
In July came a not self-inflicted fire on Combeferre’s and Enjolras’ balcony, which had shattered their window and made their flat uninhabitable.
With the fire came a decision: Marius moved in with Cosette and her father (awkward) to help the older man and his even older brother. The even older Fauchelevent had recently broken his leg and Cosette’s father had come down with the flu, but Cosette - being a student and working 20 hours a week - didn’t have the time or the means to take care of them properly. So no matter how awkward it was for Marius to live with his girlfriend’s father and uncle (really, so awkward), it was the most logical decision for him to move in and help out for the time being.
All fine and dandy but that left Courfeyrac alone and Combeferre and Enjolras without a flat. Luckily, one of Combeferre’s co-workers was currently doing a work placement in a different city, so Combeferre moved into their flat - and Enjolras had moved in with Courfeyrac.
Which leaves us with the following status quo: Combeferre was tired, over-worked, unter-paid, angry, helpless, alone and lonely - after all, he’d never lived by himself, ever. Videochatting instead of visiting because Enjolras had an early morning at work and Combeferre had had a late day - so it was just so much easier to shift their scheduled hangout online. It’s just… Some days, seeing his friends did more harm than good. Tonight, Combeferre wasn't sure how he'd feel about it.
"Hellooo," Enjolras greeted him cheerfully. "It's good to see you and your gorgeous face and your stylish glasses."
Combeferre laughed softly. "You're spending far too much time with Courfeyrac."
"The audacity!" Courfeyrac yelled from somewhere close by but out of frame.
Before anyone could say more, the man in question popped his head in view and stuck out his tongue.
"I am a delight!"
"He really is", Enjolras smiled.
“A charming young man,” Combeferre nodded, “capable of being a nuisance.”
“Oi!” Courfeyrac laughed loudly and sat down next to Enjolras. “It’s good to see you, Ferre.”
Combeferre envied Courfeyrac’s ability to make someone seen. The soft smile he reserved for only his friends was the best thing Combeferre had experienced all month - and he did see an excited puppy on his way to work the other day!
“It’s good to see you, too. I’m just… I’m so glad.”
“Sounds like you’re in dire need of friends,” Enjolras said.
“We’re here to listen.” Courfeyrac leaned his head against Enjolras’ shoulder and smiled softly. “We’re also here to distract you. Tell us what you need?”
“I…” Combeferre furrowed his brows. What did he need? A hug, warmth, someone to come home to. He had never guessed he’d get so damn lonely. Usually, he was fine being on the sidelines, letting others take over and not being the center of attention. He liked meeting new people, he liked getting to know them, approaching them, but he valued his alone-time a lot. Just… two months was a lot of alone time and it was getting to him.
And he had no idea what he wanted from his friends - what they could give him.
"I finally finished my seal," Enjolras said.
He held a small knitted seal into the camera. "We named him Gustav."
"You named him Gustav, I named him The Glorious Water Tribe Sealephant Gustav The Great Uncle Warrington."
Enjolras leaned a little closer to the camera to mock-whisper: " We named him Gustav."
Combeferre smiled softly. Yeah, maybe he didn't need to talk.
"Courf has been watching Avatar lately. That’s where the Water Tribe comes from in the name."
Courfeyrac nodded enthusiastically. "I’ve seen it twice in three weeks! Enjolras’ been on a Ghibli binge.”
“It’s inspiring and very wholesome,” Enjolras said. “And the food looks so good, which is annoying because I have zero energy to cook! And we can’t get to the Japanese store to get the groceries we’d need, anyway, because they are renovating.”
“ It was a dark day in our lives when we found out. We only have the international aisle at the supermarket and all they have are taco kits, glass noodles and plenty of sauces. Not even udon noodles!”
“Certainly not good enough to make Ghibli-esque food”, Combeferre agreed. “But you guys are eating properly, right? I know, I ask this every time but with the two of you living together...”
“But you know that we sometimes get side-tracked and without you reminding us to eat, we’re sometimes terrible at cooking food,” Enjolras smiled. “How about you?”
“Cooking is too energy-consuming some days, so I thought about getting Hello Fresh or something similar but local. Or food kits from restaurants, if that’s a thing...”
“It is in London,” Enjolras supplied unhelpfully. “So I assume it’s also a thing in Paris. Maybe…” He furrowed his brows. “Maybe we could figure it out and buy the same kit? Cook together over Google Meet and it would feel like we’re actually having dinner together on nights when we can't meet but need food?”
“Yes!” Courfeyrac beamed at him through the screen.
In moments like these, Combeferre was very jealous of Enjolras - his friend got to see Courfeyrac’s smile in real life, not dimmed and somewhat distorted through a screen. But he didn’t want to be ungrateful. At least he got to see Courfeyrac.
“The Filipino restaurant we like has a DIY kit,” Enjolras said, holding his phone to the camera - not that Combeferre could see anything, but it was the thought that counted. “And they even have a vegetarian kit, so perfect for Ferre and me.”
“Yessssss!” Courfeyrac pumped his fist in the air. “Success! Perfect, we can cook together! Ferre, I need you to prepare a playlist for our cooking sesh. You might not have the best taste in music, but you can bring all our tastes together.”
Combeferre laughed. “Thank you, I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“I remember that one evening,” Enjolras said, “when Courf and you and I just lazed on our balcony. Like, three years ago? And you insisted on connecting your phone and playing the newest and… what did you say?”
“Hottest, toppest and on fleek music,” Courfeyrac grinned. “It was the time when Ferre had that phase and called everything and everyone on fleek .”
Combeferre groaned. “Please, I don’t want to relieve that phase of my life.”
Enjolras stuck out his tongue. “It was glorious! But you subjected us to hours of odd music mixes with, like, whale noises, top ten pop music and this odd… what was that genre called?”
“Nordic post-rock…” Combeferre supplied.
“Yeah, that was it! That was a fun time,” Enjolras sighed.
“We can still have fun times. That’s why I send Ferre so many memes. I show my love through them. And by sending him rambly voice messages.”
“I love your rambly voice messages, Courf.”
In fact, Combeferre loved everything about Courfeyrac.. Honestly, pining through a computer screen was so much worse than just pining in person. Luckily he’d get to see him in person in just two days - and then probably complain how much harder pining in person was.
II.
Bleary-eyed and still way too tired, Combeferre shut off his alarm and opened his eyes. He wasn’t one to slumber or snooze - mainly because one snooze usually led to him oversleeping. Combeferre still thought it one of the big injustices of the universe that one’s birthday didn’t automatically grant a day off work - well, of course there were much much much worse injustices but sometimes Courfeyrac’s dramatics rubbed off on Combeferre and Enjolras. And Marius. And Jehan. And, really, most of their friends. Grantaire had enough dramatic flair of his own, though.
Anyway. The point was: Combeferre dreaded working on his birthday. He didn’t know why, but he really, really disliked it. Even as a kid he’d always hated going to school on his birthday - and he’d loved school! In uni, his birthdays were the only days he took off - yeah okay, he did feel guilty throughout the entire day and hated having to catch up with his studies, but he never skipped out on a free birthday-day. Working at a hospital, however, Combeferre wasn’t quite as free with his vacation days. He’d originally taken off his birthday, but a co-worker of his had gotten sick, so Combeferre had to cover his shift - the early shift. 4am was not a time he particularly wanted to be awake at, especially not on his birthday. Courfeyrac had argued that he’d had a longer birthday then, which, by all scientific standards about how many hours a day had, did not make sense. But maybe he was just being extra cranky. Working the early shift also meant that he didn’t get off work until 4pm, which was fine. Most of his friends worked until later anyway, but after a morning shift, Combeferre was usually pretty much done and just wanted to sleep. So he’d cancelled his birthday dinner. He was annoyed, but in the end, there was nothing to be done. He’d have other birthdays.
The only good thing about early mornings was the quiet - the bad thing was that Combeferre was still living in his co-worker’s flat and the commute to the hospital was annoying in the early mornings. Luckily, he could catch the first bus of the morning. The whole apartment thing was simply annoying. Living without Enjolras was annoying and very lonely. Sure, Feuilly had offered to host him, but Feuilly had a one bedroom apartment and it wouldn’t be very comfortable for both of them to live there. It simply wasn’t possible to just live on anyone’s sofa, not until they knew how long it would take to get their flat fixed up. The insurance company was just such a pain to deal with and it's been five months. But it actually seemed to move forward and if luck would have it, they could move back into their flat just before Christmas.
Anyway. It was just after 4am on a Saturday, Combeferre’s birthday, and he was grumpy. Given the time, he was quite surprised to see his phone light up with a new message. Well, maybe Bahorel or Bossuet or someone had been out late and texted in the group chat or had messaged to wish him a happy birthday. Either way, it could wait until after his shower.
15 minutes later, Combeferre grabbed his phone on the way to the kitchen and unlocked it. There wasn’t one, but 13 messages in the group he had with Courfeyrac and Enjolras. Turns out: It’s apparently really cold outside at 4am when you want to surprise your friend on his birthday and he does not check his phone at all.
Feeling very, very guilty, Combeferre quickly turned on the kettle before buzzing in his friends.
“I’m very mad at you”, were Enjolras’ first words upon seeing Combeferre. “But I love you, so it’s okay.”
“I’ve already started the kettle, so tea should be done any second. I’m so sorry, guys!”
“Can’t talk, too tired.” Courfeyrac simply hugged Combeferre and pressed his - admittedly very cold but very lovely face - against Combeferre’s chest, making Combeferre a very happy man. “Happy birthday, you wonderful person. I love you lots and I’ll support you and the person you’ll grow into.”
Enjolras threw him a knowing look before he joined in on the hug and pressed a kiss to Combeferre’s cheek. Sometimes, Combeferre forgot how annoyingly perceptive Enjolras was - he’d probably known about Combeferre’s crush way before he did himself!
“Happy birthday! I hope we could surprise you a little bit.”
“It’s 4am. I am very pleasantly surprised but would also like to offer you guys some coffee or tea.”
Coffee was prepared quickly and Combeferre even offered both of them a bowl of cereal - the only breakfast he currently had at home - but Courfeyrac was not an early breakfast person and Enjolras wasn’t in a cereal-for-breakfast-phase.
“I’m sorry I don’t have much time with you guys today…”
Courfeyrac simply leaned against Combeferre and yawned, nearly murdering Combeferre as he could not handle sleepy, cuddly and soft Courfeyrac. It was probably his main weakness when it came to pining after his friend. That, and basically everything else about him.
“‘s okay. Sorry you have to work on your birthday. We know how much you love your birthday, so we wanted to do something nice.”
“We borrowed Joly’s car and we’ll drive you to work so we can spend some more time together. And it’s quicker to get to the hospital by car than by bus.”
Combeferre smiled into his coffee. God, he loved his friends so very much.
“And we brought a present. You’ll get more at your party next week. And we’d love for you to sleep over at our place,” Courfeyrac said.
“Courf…,” Combeferre said with a slightly annoyed tone - fully expecting them to have planned a surprise party after he’d cancelled his birthday dinner.
“I know!” Courfeyrac held up his hands and then grasped Combeferre’s hand to squeeze it softly. How Combeferre wished he’d be able to lift their joined hands up and kiss them. “No grand dinner, no surprise party. Just the three of us. You have the spare key, you can go into our flat after your shift. Take a shower, take a nap, take a bath, whatever. We’ll meet up when we get off work and make sure you’ll get a nice meal. And then we just hang out.”
“... what sort of meal?”
“Nothing spectacular,” Enjolras said, “so don’t worry about it being too much work. Grantaire agreed to make soup, so we’re picking that up after work. Some jollof rice with veggies, which we’ll pick up from Bahorel. Marius will provide dessert but he refuses to tell us what exactly he’s making. So, no one is stressed and your friends are still somehow participating in your birthday.”
“God I hope Marius will make cake,” Courfeyrac groaned. “You can’t have a birthday without cake!” Combeferre silently agreed.
“Marius knows that though, so I’m sure he’ll make cake. Or brownies or cupcakes or something.”
“I miss living with him. I always got to eat so many baked goods.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoy living with me so much, thank you.”
Combeferre snorted. “I’m sure he enjoys your company. I always did and I can’t wait until our flat is finally soot-free and renovated so we can move back in together. Jehan is already having a field day cause I allowed them to have some say in the decoration.”
“Good thing they have taste and style,” Enjolras nodded. “And a knack for knowing which plants we can keep alive.”
“I’m so much better at keeping people alive,” Combeferre said.
He really was not blessed with a green thumb at all but, luckily, he was blessed with incredible friends who woke up before 4am just to surprise him on his birthday and who did everything to cater to him - despite his foul mood and the slight curveball.
III.
Moving was always stressful. Having friends who knew what they were doing and could handle a move were a blessing. Enjolras on moving days was an utter disaster - as much as that man had a knack for planning, he was pretty bad at organising a move. So, with Enjolras on food and drink duty, Joly on first aid duty (he was currently putting an emoji-bandaid on Feuilly's elbow) and everyone else working together, they managed to get Combeferre's and Enjolras' renovated flat furnished in basically no time. The day before, Grantaire and Jehan had already painted one living room wall (tranquil aqua, a nice and soothing colour) and invited themselves over for interior design purposes in a few days - once Enjolras and Combeferre had unpacked their boxes and settled a bit.
When everyone had left, Combeferre collapsed on Enjolras’ bed - and on top of Enjolras, who let out a small “oof”.
“We’re finally back”, Combeferre sighed.
“The order of the universe has been restored,” Enjolras agreed, wriggling to dislodge Combeferre. “I am back with you, Marius is back with Courf. But honestly? I’m, like, so certain Marius is gonna move in with Cosette next year.”
Combeferre hummed. “He tasted blood and he wants more. But do you reckon they’ll move into the flat she shares with her father and uncle?”
“Cosette wouldn’t leave them and if Marius wants to live with her, he’s got no other choice, I suppose. Though I’m sure he’d be really upset to part ways with Courf.”
“Yeah, they really do adore each other.” Combeferre sighed deeply.
Enjolras nudged him softly. “And you adore him, too, hm? Just a tad more romantically.”
“That… what… why would you even…” spluttered Combeferre. “Maybe you like him romantically! Ever thought about that? Hm?”
“I haven’t heard you this flustered since our first year at school when you forgot about the presentation you had to hold and Courf saved your ass by being his extroverted self and taking over everything. You kissed him after that.”
“I did. First and only time, back when I was 14 and he was 15.”
“Yeah, I was right there. I stood right next to you guys and I do have to say: it wasn’t the most awkward I’ve felt in my life but it is in the top five moments of awkwardness.”
“It was awkward for us, too, even though I was really into him at that time.”
“And now the feelings are back?”
Combeferre shrugged and curled into Enjolras’ side. “Yeah, in like, January or so? I can’t really say, it didn’t hit me like it did 15 years ago. It was more that he said something and I looked at him and thought oh right. It wasn’t even something cool. I think the three of us were watching a movie and you were talking to him, he made an offhand comment and just… I don’t know. I realised that very old feelings had resurfaced. Maybe. Maybe they’re just new feelings.”
“It’s been going on for a while then. Why haven’t you said anything?”
“To him or to you?”
“Either, I guess. Though I’m sure you knew that I knew about it.”
“I suspected that you suspected it. I was sure you suspected something when you surprised me on my birthday.”
“Oh, you only knew I knew back then? I think I suspected it in like May!” Enjolras laughed softly and pressed a kiss to Combeferre’s cheek. “You are just incredibly obvious but Courf can be just so oblivious, so I don’t think he knows.”
“He better not know, it would just make me so uncomfortable. I mean, I don’t think I’d lose him as a friend if he knew but…”
“But it’s still scary, I know. How about I get us some tea, you order food and you tell me all about why you like Courf?”
“I’d like that, if it’s not weird for you.”
“Not at all.” Enjolras tossed Combeferre his phone. “You know the code, just order anything, I’m just hungry tonight, no preference for anything in particular.”
He had just finished ordering when Enjolras came back into the bedroom with their teas.
“I’m glad that our friends apparently prioritise tea over everything else because while I have no idea where our plates and cutlery are, we do have a very well stocked tea cupboard.”
Combeferre snorted. “That’s what happens when you give Jehan a key to your flat: they buy a fuckton of tea and stock up. Probably just so they could have a nice cuppa while painting the walls. I’m very thankful. We need to send them a message to express our gratitude.”
“Tell them you’re into Courf, that’s probably better than any thank-you-message ever. You know how much they love gossip, especially our group’s weird intermingling gossip.”
“You’re an idiot,” he laughed. “But you’re also kinda right… They do love gossip. And causing gossip. Thank you,” he said, accepting his cup of tea.
Enjolras snuggled close again. “Okay, tell me about how awesome my best friend is and why you wanna bone him.”
“Enjolras…. please…. please don’t ever say that ever again, it sounds so awkward. Like… yes I do think about Courf that way but please don’t make me think about him that way.”
Enjolras laughed and nudged his shoulder. “Go on, I can feel you vibrating with the need to open your heart and spill it!”
“You’ve spent too much time with Courf, you adopted his dramatics.”
“He’s fun to be around.”
“He really is. He’s got a great sense of humor. And style! I love his fashion sense because it is confident, cozy and while he does follow trends, he doesn’t obsessively do so? And he has developed his own signature style with bright colours and patterns, which is so nice. He’s just so inventive and clever, you know?” Combeferre sighed dreamily and took a sip of his tea. “His creativity is amazing and he has so much passion. And I like his hair. It’s just so bouncy, you know? Fits his personality. And I do like his body, yeah… I just feel fuzzy when I’m around him.”
Enjolras hummed softly. “It sounds really nice. And… I haven’t really talked to Courfeyrac about any of it, so I can’t say anything with certainty but… I believe you should tell him, whatever the outcome. Always best to be honest. He values your honesty.”
“I’ll think about it. It can be my New Year’s resolution! It’s only three weeks until then.”
“I can’t believe it’s already December and we’ve only just moved back into our flat.”
“Right? It took the insurance companies forever! But I’m glad to be back here with you and I can’t wait for our housewarming slash Christmas party.”
“Which will give you the perfect opportunity to flirt with your cruuuuush,” Enjolras sing-sang, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Why are we even friends, you are so obnoxious,” Combeferre laughed, kissing his cheek.
He was so glad to have Enjolras in his life - wouldn’t trade him for the world.
+ I
Combeferre gently placed the little sheep next to the shepherd and pushed it in place carefully. It was funny how neither he nor Enjolras were Christian yet they still had a small nativity scene. Barely anyone was Christian, let alone a practicing Christian. Only Marius and Cosette went to church on the regular and they weren’t even into nativity scenes! Marius mainly felt bad for Baby Jesus, who had to live outside the crib until the evening of the 24th. And, he argued, as they were in Paris, Baby Jesus must be freezing. Truly admirable reasons, according to Courfeyrac. Grantaire, on the other hand, who had grown up with a very Catholic family, liked to hide a pop culture figurine somewhere in the nativity scene every year. It was a fun game. Whoever would spot it first during their annual Christmas party would win a prize - which would only be revealed by Grantaire after the discovery. Last year, the prize for finding the Tenth Doctor had been a massage voucher.
Nativity scenes were just such an integral part of French Christmas traditions, it was hard to not admire the little sheep and the worn-down donkey. Okay, the angel proclaiming the birth of Jesus was quite creepy and did once make Courfeyrac’s baby niece cry but it was about the tradition! The emotion! And the annual rock-paper-scissors competition which decided who was allowed to unwrap Baby Jesus from his toilet paper cocoon (Marius: “This way, he doesn’t freeze to death before he’s even legally born.”) and place him in the small crib.
With a last approving nod, Combeferre stepped away from the nativity scene he had placed on their bookshelf. When Enjolras walked by, putting some biscuits on the table, he cocked his head to the side and looked at the scene.
“So where’s the snow?”
“For fuck’s sake, Enjolras, not again. There was no snow in the Middle East and there’s no snow in Paris currently.”
“There also wasn’t a dinosaur in a Santa costume, but who am I to judge.”
“You judge a lot, my friend. And you know fully well: the Santasaur is for Courfeyrac.”
“Remember that one year, when we’d just moved into our old flat and somehow lost the Santasaur in one of the boxes?”
“It was mayhem,” Combeferre laughed. “But we’ve got him now.”
“We do. Oh, Courf texted, by the way. He’s on his way to pick up Jehan and Grantaire, so they should be here in, like, 30 minutes. Just enough time for you to make the poached pears.”
Which, honestly, was one of Combeferre’s favourite things about Christmas with their friends. Poached pears were nice, especially with Jehan’s homemade ice cream - which might melt on the way over, because it was an unusually warm late December.
Ah, global warming. If only some large and influential people could do something to stop it. Combeferre and his friends really tried their best, but less than twenty thirtysomethings really couldn’t stop a climate catastrophe on their own. Either way, poached pears with homemade ice cream were incredible and they had a large enough freezer to re-freeze the potentially melted ice cream. Luckily, it hadn’t suffered too much once it arrived. After everyone had made their way to Combeferre and Enjolras, Grantaire’s figurine was hidden and the various dogs had found their perfect spot to sleep or observe the merry group, Combeferre found himself back in the kitchen. There was more mulled wine to be heated up - both alcoholic and non-alcoholic - and Joly had given him a spice blend he claimed would make the wine Christmas-y yet healthy and also help with digestion. He had just poured two bottles of wine into their large pot when Courfeyrac entered the kitchen and closed the door behind himself.
“I was hoping to catch you alone.”
Oh, and hadn’t plenty of Combeferre’s less decent dreams started just like that?
“Is it about Enjolras’ present? Don’t worry, I hid it in my closet.”
“I used to do that,” Courfeyrac sighed dramatically.
“Buddy, you never did,” Combeferre laughed. “Ever.”
“True, but I couldn’t let that opportunity slip by.” He jumped onto the counter and snatched up one of the orange slices Combeferre had peeled.
“So, Enjolras’ present?”
“Ah, no, that’s not even what I wanted to talk about. Ugh, these oranges are really sour.”
“Yeah, there’s better ones out there but people go crazy over oranges during Christmas time and no one had time to go to the really good fruit market to get some. And it would be a bit of a waste, given they’re going into the mulled wine.”
Courfeyrac shrugged his shoulders and grabbed another slice.
“I’m actually here to tell you I love you.”
Combeferre snorted. “It’s been known, darling. Love you, too.”
“Yeah, that, too, but, like, really. I’m in love with you. Have been for, like, two years now, I guess? Idiot me didn’t clock that you love me, too, until last week.”
“Fuck,” Combeferre swore. “I cut my finger.”
“Oh shit!”
“I literally don’t give a fuck right now.” He looked up from his finger and grabbed the front of Courfeyray’s sweater. “You’re not fucking with me right now, right?”
Courfeyrac smirked. “Honey, you’d know if…”
“Na ah, no joking right now.”
“I’m not joking,” Courfeyrac smiled. “I’m in love with you, even if you’re currently getting some blood on my good sweater.”
“Don’t care,” Combeferre whispered and pulled him in for a kiss.
It was as if something within him shifted, righted itself. Not like something would’ve been missing - he was his own complete person, thank you very much - more as if something had been tilted and was put back into place once more.
“I can’t believe I have to live through a Christmas party with blood on my sweater now,” Courfeyrac laughed.
Combeferre dropped his forehead onto Courfeyrac’s shoulder and laughed. “I’m so sorry. You can borrow one of my sweaters, if you’d like.”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Courfeyrac teased.
“Actually, I would. And I can say that now. By the way, is Enjolras standing in front of the kitchen door, desperately trying to listen in?”
“Probably. I told him I was gonna tell you now.”
“I can’t believe he somehow witnessed both of our first kisses.”
“I can,” Enjolras yelled from outside, “I’m happy for you!”
“We love you, too,” Courfeyrac shouted back.
“I really do need a bandaid for my finger..”
Courfeyrac laughed and kissed him again. And again. And again. And a few more times, for good luck’s sake.