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Sometimes Courfeyrac forgets that people other than Les Amis occasionally patronise the Musain. Until they do, and it’s absolutely the last person he wants to see. He’s never actually met Montparnasse, but he’s been pointed out to him enough times that he recognises him when he slouches through the door. Even if he didn’t, the sudden rigidity of Jehan’s spine would give him a clue. He moves to join Jehan by the counter, but Montparnasse gets there first, all smiles. His smile isn’t creepy because it doesn’t meet his eyes. It’s creepy because it does.
‘Princess’, he says, smirking, and sweeps a bow. Courfeyrac’s fists itch. ‘I’ve missed that pretty face. Buy you a drink?’
Jehan’s eyes are hard. ‘Stay away from me.’
Montparnasse laughs. ‘You’re so cute when you try to be tough.’
‘I said stay away. You like to think you’re so on top of everything, don’t you? But you could never resist a bit of pillow talk, especially if it was all about you.’ Jehan leans in and hisses something in his ear. Something shifts in Montparnasse’s face and for a second he is truly ugly. It barely registers before he’s smiling again.
‘See you around, petal.’ He makes as if to kiss Jehan’s hand, but Jehan pulls it away. Then he’s gone. Courfeyrac is at Jehan’s side before the door closes.
‘Are you okay?’
He takes Jehan’s hand. His nails have left angry red marks in his palm. Jehan says something quiet that Courfeyrac doesn’t catch.
‘Sorry?’
‘He didn’t seduce me. I don’t want you to think- people know about him, and they think they know about me. I’m not an idiot. I’m not naïve. I could tell he wasn’t a nice person, but he was hot and I wanted him so I fucked him. I never cared about him, he just managed to hurt me anyway.’ He breathes out, a little shakily, and smiles. ‘Sorry.’
Courfeyrac kisses him and feels the muscles in his back relax. Jehan’s hands slip into his hair. He tastes like camomile tea and Tic Tacs, and when Combeferre coughs pointedly right by his ear and he nearly jumps out of his skin, Jehan is smiling again.