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Combeferre tempers him. Courfeyrac has a tendency to excess, to flamboyance. He knows he can, and does, wear people out. He's just so insecure about himself that he performs for everyone, puts on an act so well rehearsed that eventually he's not sure how fake it is anymore. There's something about himself that he doesn't want to look too closely at. He's afraid that everyone will realize that he's all flash and no substance, so he presses on. He talks loudly, touches constantly, to remind everyone that he's still here, he still exists, he still needs them.
That's what scares him most of all: his need. He has this vast, cavernous hole in the center of him, and he tries to fill it up with sex and then friendship but he doesn't really trust any of it. But Combeferre doesn't care that Courfeyrac needs too much. He gives and gives until Courfeyrac doesn't know how to take anymore.
He doesn't understand it at first. Combeferre is this quiet, comforting presence in their group. He's always been the one who puts his own needs aside for the good of the others. He's there when Enjolras is so worked up that even his words fail him; Combeferre talks then instead, a steady murmur that doesn't stop until the tension drains from Enjolras's shoulders and he's finally able to talk again. He's there when Jehan's romantic nature gets him hurt, when he puts too much faith in someone and they disappoint him, because Jehan will never admit to it but he expects so much and he's disappointed when people fail him. Then, Combeferre sits with Jehan and gently explains to him that romance is all well and good but people make mistakes, and not everyone sees the world the same way he does. Combeferre is even there when Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta fight, and he keeps their grievances straight and private, talks to them each in turn and sorts out the tangled weave with fine-toothed patience.
But Courfeyrac won't let himself accept that unconditional help. Combeferre has always been the one who has scared him the most. Solid, dependable, unshakable Combeferre. If Combeferre tires of him, then surely Courfeyrac can't be saved. Surely Courfeyrac is broken beyond repair.
One day Courfeyrac screams at him.
"What do you want?" He yells, and he's crying and he can't remember how this all started. Combeferre stands unflinching, and Courfeyrac's face twists and he's not even sure how real this is, if he really wants to cry or if he just wants to get a rise out of Combeferre. "You never seem to want anything, you just exist for other people, god, Combeferre, just tell me what you want."
"You," Combeferre says simply, and Courfeyrac freezes, because Courfeyrac doesn't have anything to give Combeferre. Courfeyrac is the empty vessel he's just accused Combeferre of being. "Everyone comes to me for themselves but nobody has ever asked me what I wanted." He says and he looks at Courfeyrac with something not unlike wonder in his eyes.
"I know that I'm quiet, I know I don't inspire like Enjolras, and I don't keep everyone's spirits up like you. I know that I'm a little boring," He says this self-deprecatingly, but Courfeyrac thinks he's wrong. Combeferre is far from boring. Combeferre is an enigma that Courfeyrac can't crack, and Courfeyrac can read other people better than himself.
"But I do want you," he continues. "I'm happy around you," he admits, and Courfeyrac inhales sharply. "I feel alive, and I want to taste you."
He's unabashed through all of this. Combeferre doesn't want much. He's kept his head down his entire life. He quietly studied hard to get into a good college, and when he was accepted to his top choice, he didn't allow himself much more than a proud smile when he told his parents. His first girlfriend dumped him because she thought he didn't love her, though he did and he'd just been too afraid to say it and push her away. He dumped his first boyfriend because he thought Combeferre loved him but Combeferre didn't, and he knew he was supposed to. But what he feels for Courfeyrac is so much more than all of those things combined.
He wants Courfeyrac so much that his hands shake with it, that he no longer trusts himself to be the dependable one, because his body constantly betrays him, reaching out to touch Courfeyrac when he's near, lips curving into a smile whenever they're together. And if Courfeyrac is asking, then Combeferre will tell him. He denies himself so much, but he doesn't want to deny himself this.
"But you can't want me," Courfeyrac is saying. "There's nothing to want. I'm nothing."
Combeferre snorts. "Can you let me be the judge of that?"
"I don't know," Courfeyrac says, because he doesn't. It's his place in the group to be the light and the warmth. Part of that deal is that nobody ever sees him sad. If he lets Combeferre in, if he lets him see everything he's tried to hide, it will only be that much worse when Combeferre tires of him.
Combeferre comes to stand before Courfeyrac, who immediately apologizes.
"What for?" Combeferre asks, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
"I don't know if you're going to like what you find," he whispers, and Combeferre places his hands on either side of Courfeyrac's face.
"I know exactly what I'm going to find," Combeferre says as he presses and gentle kiss to Courfeyrac's forehead, and Courfeyrac closes his eyes, his hands coming to fist in Combeferre's shirt. He's trembling, but Combeferre is unhesitant, and Courfeyrac clings to his strength. "Someone who is bright," he kisses, featherlight, Courfeyrac's left eyelid. "And kind," his right, "Someone who is afraid to need," now his lips touch Courfeyrac's cheekbone, "But doesn't see that I want to give him everything," he kisses the corner of Courfeyrac's mouth and Courfeyrac makes a wretched sound, somewhere between a broken sob and a disbelieving gasp.
He turns his head to catch Combeferre's lips before they pull away and they're kissing, and Courfeyrac tries to be desperate but Combeferre just guides him through it. He keeps one hand on Courfeyrac's face, centering him, and Courfeyrac thought he was the center but maybe Combeferre is his center. Combeferre's tongue sweeps into Courfeyrac's mouth and he's warm and gentle and Courfeyrac's desperation bleeds out. They're quiet, just the unsteady inhale of breath, and then Combeferre breaks away to mouth at Courfeyrac's neck, and Courfeyrac lets out a little moan.
"I don't taste nothing," Combeferre murmurs, and Courfeyrac clutches a little tighter at him.
"I think I need you," Courfeyrac confesses, and it's the hardest thing he's ever had to say, harder than even 'I love you.' "And I want you, I want you to fill every space inside of me."
Combeferre kisses Courfeyrac again, and Courfeyrac takes it greedily.
"You can have me." He says, and Courfeyrac thinks he will. He will have Combeferre, and they will give and take until there is nothing left but each other.