Chapter Text
Courfeyrac had kept a close eye on Combeferre all through the meeting this afternoon. He had seemed somewhat nervous, didn’t concentrate enough. It wasn’t normal for Combeferre to be so spaced out.
Spaced out.
Courfeyrac quietly chuckled at his own thought-joke, which earned him a strange look from both Enjolras and Combeferre.
He mouthed a ‘sorry’ in their general direction and concentrated on the meeting once more. Still, he couldn’t help but glance at Combeferre every now and then. It wasn’t only the fact that his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his tattoos, his muscles, the way his arms could wrap around Courfeyrac, how his hand could tug on Courfeyrac’s curls… stop. Courfeyrac shook his head lightly to banish the more than impure thoughts he sometimes had about his best friend. They were like brothers! It was nearly incest! Metaphorical incest.
Except it wasn’t, and Courfeyrac did have these feelings when he saw Combeferre. Not always, not often, but often enough to worry him a little.
Courfeyrac decided to pull himself together. The meeting was important, since they planned the counterdemonstration against next month’s Pegida demonstration. It would be interesting, really, as their group was mostly made out of people with a migration background. They hoped with having Enjolras as their leader, the people were more willing to listen to his reasoning. The meeting ended with a plan on how to arrange, how to attract more people. Feuilly was in charge of getting the local carpenters to make a small stage. Grantaire had the job to design a poster until next week, which, he swore, was really easy. Bahorel was assigned the task to rally more people for their cause. He knew so many, from work, from boxing, from other hobbies (no one really knew much about those obscure hobbies but at some point he came into the Musain dressed as a banana).
After the meeting, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, and Combeferre stayed behind to tidy up. Most of the time some of the others stayed, too, but this evening everyone was somehow very busy.
“So…” Combeferre started after a while of silently stuffing everything into his messenger bag, “you know that we have this really stupid Valentine’s Day Party at our office, right?”
Courfeyrac nodded. They had it every year, Combeferre and Enjolras always went together. It was required to bring a Plus One, no matter if it was a romantic partner or your little sister.
“Well, Enjolras is in Lyon that week.”
“Pegida is planning a demonstration in Lyon in April, so I wanted to meet with them Amis there before our counterdemonstration, so we can coordinate them better.”
“I know. Isn’t Bossuet coming with you because he’s got a cousin there?”
“Yes, exactly!” Enjolras beamed at him. “It’s gonna be a lot of fun, and I’m sure we’ll be very successful. But, point is, I won’t be there for the Valentine’s Day Party.”
“Which is why I wanted to ask if you’d come with me. It’s the day before Valentine’s Day, so any potential plans would remain untouched.” Combeferre fiddled with the buckle of his bag and closed it before he finally looked up to Courfeyrac. “What do you say?”
“Yeah, sure! I’d be happy to accompany you. Do we have to bring anything? Like, is it a BYO party?”
“Yes, a small Valentine’s gift. You can have mine, I already bought it. They are all thrown into a box. It’s a bit like Secret Santa. Secret Valentine, so to say,” Enjolras informed him while shrugging on his jacket.
“Veiled Valentine,” Courfeyrac chuckled and wrapped his scarf around himself.
“That’s really clever,” Combeferre smiled at him, “but I expected nothing less of you.”
Courfeyrac hated the warm feeling that spread through him. He hated the way his whole body tingled, hated that he wanted to stand on his tip-toes and quietly ask Combeferre to kiss him. This couldn’t be. He needed to shake off this feeling. Soon. Yes, Combeferre was gay. As gay as the moon (though the moon is clearly a lesbian, please and thank you), but Courfeyrac knew it could never be. Combeferre wasn’t the type of person to fall in love with his best friend. Courfeyrac on the other hand… he could already count an affair with Grantaire and a failed relationship with Jehan.
“You know me, I’m the clevererest of us three,” Courfeyrac grinned at Combeferre. He pushed down the feeling in his stomach, telling him to just come clear or at least talk to Enjolras about his feelings.
Talking to Enjolras was not an option. He loved his friends so dearly, he would have a lot of trouble not telling Combeferre. He’d mediate between them, sit them both down, and not leave until the air was cleared. So, really, Courfeyrac had no other choice but suffer silently until his feelings were gone. He knew himself. Back in his first year of lycée, Courfeyrac had suddenly developed a gigantic crush on Enjolras. It had lasted two months and that was it. Surely, this crush on Combeferre would be gone soon enough. Just… it wasn’t as sudden. Or as strong. It was slowly, had crept up on him for months now. But that was a truth Courfeyrac managed to ignore.
“My friends, how about me make pizza tonight and watch some more Parks And Rec?” Enjolras suggested.
“I’m down!” Courfeyrac looped his arm through Enjolras’ and kissed his cheek. “Ferre?”
“Always. Though, as much as I love Parks And Rec, we all know Enjolras’ reaction to it. He denies he’s totally Leslie but he’s so Leslie.”
“Am not,” Enjolras pouted. “If I’m Leslie, you should be Ben. Hence we should marry. But I do not intend on marrying you.”
“He’s not a bad catch,” Courfeyrac chirped, pulling the door of the Musain close behind him. “You could do worse than Combeferre. You could marry me, for example. Wouldn’t recommend that.”
Combeferre laughed. “You’re not a bad catch either. So I guess it’s homemade pizza and Parks And Rec? But I get to have the red blanket!”
“No!” Enjolras protested. “It’s the biggest, I need it, I can wrap myself in it. We could share?”
“And what am I supposed to do?” Courfeyrac complained. He pouted up at Enjolras and Combeferre but quickly looked down again. “I got rain in my eyes…”
They three were silent for a few seconds before they burst out laughing.
This, Courfeyrac thought, this is what he needed and wanted. His friends should love him like this. It was warm and happy. He didn’t need the discomfort of maybe having more than a small crush on one of them.
At least no one at the party would mistake them for boyfriends.