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“He’s gonna kill me,” Courfeyrac says, sitting on the floor and tossing yet another empty Solo cup into the plastic bag he’s been filling with a distinct air of defeat.
Jehan, who is perched, cross-legged, on the breakfast bar, watching him, nods like this is a fair point and says, “He might.” Then he ducks as a Solo cup is chucked at his head. It’s actually a great testament to how wonderful Jehan actually is that he has not once said I told you so.
“You will be sad when I am dead,” Courfeyrac says indignantly, but Jehan just shrugs.
“Eh,” he says. “I’m sure I’ll find love again.”
Courfeyrac positively pouts at that. “Come on,” he whines, rolling onto his back to reach for an empty beer bottle. “I’m going to be murdered, tell me you love me.”
Jehan grins and slides down off the counter, ghosting toward Courfeyrac and dropping down in front of him to brush his fingers over his love’s lovely face. Courfeyrac has stopped breathing and is gaping at Jehan because no matter how many times they’ve done exactly this before, Courfeyrac finds Jehan luminous, and it all but takes his breath away.
And then Jehan’s lips are brushing lightly over his own and Jehan is whispering “I love you,” into his mouth and Courfeyrac falls headfirst into this moment.
Jehan nuzzles his cheek. “And I will protect you from Enjolras,” he adds. “No need to fear, I’ll be your white knight.”
“You’re always my white knight,” Courfeyrac murmurs, snaking his arm around Jehan’s waist to keep him there and kiss him again.
Jehan laughs into the kiss and when they break apart, he whispers against Courfeyrac’s mouth, “I like kissing this and that of you.”
Again, Courfeyrac thinks that he really needs to learn more poetry so he can return lovely words like these.
He’s just staring at his poet in wonder when his phone goes off in his pocket. Jehan giggles again because he’s pressed close enough to feel the vibration on his leg, and Courfeyrac shifts, pulling the phone out of his pocket and holding it where he and Jehan can both read the message, one of his arms still positioned possessively around Jehan’s waist.
It’s from Enjolras.
Any indirect result of what you did last night does not forgive or excuse your actions.
Courfeyrac glowers at the device. “What the hell does that mean?” he demands, but when he turns back to Jehan, the poet’s face is completely lit up. “What?”
Jehan just shakes his head, grinning and digging in his pocket for his own phone. Frantically, he types out a message and sends it. Courfeyrac is still thoroughly confused, but when Jehan’s phone vibrates a minute later, it is turned toward him to read.
Yeah. He told me he wanted to be with me and then we kissed. Fair warning: when I manage to come out of this haze, I might also kiss your boyfriend for being such an ass.
“Holy hell, they got together?” Courfeyrac exclaims, almost unintentionally dislodging Jehan from his lap in his excitement.
“Hang on,” Jehan says, grabbing hold of Courfeyrac’s shoulder to keep from falling to the floor, “he sent another one. ‘You guys have to keep this quiet, though, Enjolras will be pissed if people find out before he tells them.’ Oh my god!” He practically squeals the last bit. “They got together! Your meddling worked?”
“Well don’t sound so surprised,” Courfeyrac says, but he’s grinning, too.
“Of course I’m surprised, it was the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.”
“I was drunk!”
“Not when you had the idea!”
“Details,” Courfeyrac sighs.
But then Jehan kisses him again and he wonders, briefly, why anyone in the world does anything at all when they could be kissing Jean Prouvaire.
They’re not subtle, which is a point of high annoyance to Courfeyrac because they still haven’t saidanything to anyone so he isn’t allowed to talk or make jokes about it but Grantaire keeps fucking nudging Enjolras under the table with his feet and then smirking about it and at one point Enjolras actually brushes Grantaire’s hair on the way past him and Courfeyrac isn’t allowed to comment on it.
And it’s driving him fucking insane.
Jehan is fully aware of the pain Coufeyrac is in, although he doesn’t really share in it, but he keeps very calmly reaching over and tangling his fingers in the curls at the nape of Courfeyrac’s neck and it…helps a bit.
But then Grantaire is texting and then Enjolras looks at his phone, and then Enjolras blushes and Grantaire fucking smirks again and Courfeyrac can’t take it and lets out a high-pitched keening sound while he’s storming out of the room.
Jehan just sort of smiles fondly at everyone before he follows Courfeyrac out.
“IF THEY DON’T TELL EVERYONE SOON, I WILL,” Courf shrieks once they’re both out on the street and out of earshot.
“No, you won’t,” Jehan says simply. “Enjolras actually will murder you if you do.”
“But everyone knows!” Courfeyrac groans. “They’re the least subtle people in existence and yet they refuse to stop pretending this is some kind of secret.”
He’s pacing and fuming and it’s so damn hard to keep secrets like this why are they making him do this? So Jehan doesn’t say anything because nothing he says will help. Instead, he smiles and takes a few steps toward Courfeyrac, stopping his pacing by taking his hands in both of his own
“Tell me, then,” he says gently.
Courfeyrac blinks at him. “What?”
“Tell me.”
“But you already know,” Courfeyrac whines half-heartedly.
Jehan shrugs. “Pretend I don’t. What the hell is going on with Enjolras and Grantaire?”
Courfeyrac rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now because his Jehan is so perfect and it’s almost unfair. “They’re dating now,” he whispers conspiratorially thinking it will feel ridiculous to tell someone who already knows, but actually it feels like a relief. Jehan gives him this shocked expression and he wants to laugh but he half believes it and he had no idea Jehan was such a good actor. “They got together a couple of days ago and they’ve been stupidly clingy ever since.”
“How so?” Jehan asks like he doesn’t know.
“Well, they keep making out everywhere and pretending they’re being so discreet,” Courfeyrac complains. “And if they’re not with each other, they’re fucking texting each other all the time, it’s sickening.”
Jehan giggles a little. “Like you can talk,” he says lovingly, reaching up to stroke Courfeyrac’s lovely face. Courfeyrac’s eyes close and he leans into the touch with a soft, hmm.
“Have they had sex yet?” Jehan suddenly asks, genuinely curious.
Courfeyrac opens his eyes and frowns. “I actually don’t know,” he says. “You know, I don’t think they have. They’ve done some pretty heavy petting, though, which is not something I wanted to walk in on in my living room.”
Jehan blushes, but doesn’t point out the hypocrisy this time. Instead, his turns the hand that’s still holding Courfeyrac’s and starts stroking patterns into his palm. The sounds of their friends talking gets louder, an indicator that they’re coming out of the back room and outside.
“I think the meeting’s over,” Jehan mutters and Courfeyrac sighs.
“Thank god.”
They don’t even bother to stop petting each other as their friends come out around them. Not that they ever do, but they also know that tonight they will not be the couple on everyone’s minds so they can do what they want.
As Enjolras passes him (with Grantaire literally just behind him), Courfeyrac calls to him, “Hey, where are you going?”
Enjolras gives him a look like it should be obvious and why is he asking and says, “Home.”
Courfeyrac groans quietly as Enjolras walks away and Grantaire shoots Jehan a little grin as he follows.
“Well I guess I’m going to yours, tonight,” Courfeyrac sighs like it’s some big inconvenience and he and Jehan don’t have half of their belongings at the other’s apartment anyway. “So I don’t walk in on them doing that shirtless horizontal thing on the couch again.”
“Mmm,” Jehan says, tipping up on his toes to kiss Courfeyrac as their friends disperse to their own homes, thinking it might be nice to do their own horizontal thing tonight. “Good.”
And then Courfeyrac nearly screeches because as Enjolras and Grantaire are walking away, Grantaire actually puts his hand on Enjolras’ ass and they are still in view of everyone and this is completely unfair.
Remarkably, it’s actually Feuilly who breaks it.
They’re in a meeting, and he probably shouldn’t bring it up at all, but it’s been a week and they are fooling no one and he’s tired of the whole thing. So when Grantaire says something mildly obnoxious and the irritated glance Enjolras casts over him is severely tempered by a kind of innate fondness, Feuilly just shouts, “We all know you’re together!” into the ether to see what will happen.
Everyone goes silent instantly. All eyes turn to Enjolras and Grantaire.
But neither will confirm it. Grantaire looks startled and guilty, and Enjolras just won’t look up from his notebook. Until he briefly looks toward Grantaire, and Grantaire smiles at him.
That, and the lack of denial, is enough to throw the whole group into an uproar.
Courfeyrac could not be more relieved.