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Jehan was getting worried.
His room-mate should have returned from his shopping trip at least an hour ago, since he stated that he was 'just nipping around the corner', which in the building meant going to the small corner shop. The blonde had tried to keep himself calm, thinking that Courfeyrac could have bumped into someone and was just teasing them as usual.
But he would have texted. Courfeyrac knew that his little poet got very worried over even the smallest things, so if he ended up being out longer than expected he would send a quick text as soon as possible so that he wasn't bombarded with questions the second he came through the door.
This time was different. Jehan couldn't concentrate on the poem he had started to take his mind off the brunette's long disappearance. His eyes continuously stared at the flower covered iPhone, waiting.
The short sound. The jolt of a vibration. The sudden brightness of the screen.
None of those things came. Something else brought Jehan to attention; the slam of their front door.
"Courf?" Jehan pushed away from the desk, his phone now neglected on top of his notebook.
"I suppose so," a different voice than the blonde was expecting replied, and was surprised when it belonged to Combeferre. The taller man wasn't alone however: Courfeyrac was slung over his shoulder, not even looking like he was heavy, and appeared to be unconscious.
"W-What happened to him?"
"Don't worry, Jehan," Combeferre grimaced, walking past him and lying the still sleeping Courfeyrac on one of their sofas. "I already took him to see Joly, and there's nothing that requires a hospital visit. Just a few scratches."
"But how did they happen?" Jehan choked, kneeling down to his broken brunette and taking a clean, bandaged hand and playing nervously with the limp fingers.
"Thankfully, it was an accident. Courf was around the corner punching a wall and crying when I found him, but as he spotted me and tried to cover it up, he tripped and fell pretty hard on the pavement."
"Crying?" Jehan whispered, putting the bandaged hand down to gently comb fingers through his hair instead whilst remembering what the man was like before he left. Smiling and joking, just as usual. They'd kissed. Nothing seemed out of place.
"Hard to think about, isn't it?" Combeferre sighed, wandering into the kitchen to make a cup of tea for the three of them. He knew his way around everyone's apartments, something that everyone found just a little bit scary, but it was only because of his intense memory skills. "You noticed anything that could have set it off?"
"Just... the normal stuff. But it must have piled up more than usual."
The only sound for a while was the gradual boiling of the kettle, and then the clink of the metal spoons as they stirred teabags around china cups. Jehan continued to stroke Courfeyrac's hair therapeutically, as if he was a snoozing cat, but Courfeyrac continued to sleep.
"Here," Combeferre held out the chamomile tea, making sure it was steady in Jehan's grip before letting go. "Joly said he'd be okay. He's just exhausted rather than injured, since he did wake up for a little while."
"Did he say anything?"
"Just mumbled an apology."
"Idiot," Jehan muttered, tears pricking at his eyes as he placed both hands around the warm cup, trying to let the warm scent calm him down. "And he says that I don't tell him anything... I'm here for a reason after all."
"He just doesn't want to see you worry."
"But I worry all the time-"
"Not the same," Combeferre interrupted, sitting on the other sofa and taking a sip of his black coffee. "He doesn't want to see you worry about things that don't affect you. He's trying to do things by himself because he wants to prove that he's strong enough to take care of himself, but also everyone else around him. He knows a tear is just as infectious as a smile."
"Man, Combeferre, you just love knowing everything about people, don't you?"
"Courf-"
"I'm sorry," the newly awoken Courfeyrac smiled, sitting up and taking the teacup that Jehan was about to drop into both of his hands and drinking it. "I didn't want to worry you."
"It's fine," Jehan shuddered, the tears now freely falling down his face before pulling Courfeyrac into a strong hug. Well, a strong hug for him anyway, which was intensified more than usual from the brunette's weakened physique. "As long as you're safe and here now... then that's all I care about."
"I'd best leave you two to it," Combeferre noted, finishing his drink and going to wash it up. "Courf, you have to go thank Joly later. And you have your own tea behind you. Make sure Jehan drinks the chamomile."
"I will do, when he gets off me."
"No joking either."
"Fine."
When finally left alone, Courfeyrac parted his lips to explain himself, but Jehan had already moved forward with rather uncoordinated kisses to cover them up. If Courfeyrac wasn't ready to talk about what was on his mind, then he was going to be there to cheer him up until he felt able to. If it was minutes, fine. Days, sure. Months, years? He'd wait.
After all, they were always going to be there for each other.