Work Text:
In the end, Enjolras somehow resists the urge to kill him. Courfeyrac suspects Grantaire may have had something to do with it and a lot of blowjobs and extremely kinky sex may have been involved but he'sstill in one piece, so he has no interest whatsoever in looking at it any closer.
Besides, things are finally almost back to normal. Well, apart from him still absolutely refusing to be alone in a room with Enjolras and Enjolras looking like he’s about to dismember Courfeyrac anytime he as much as looks at Grantaire. And apart from his camera as well, which somehow got broken into tiny little pieces and Courfeyrac is nowhere near brave enough to ask Enjolras how it happened. When the blond makes no move to replace it, Courfeyrac can’t even really blame him.
At least, all copies of the sextape from Hell have been deleted and Courfeyrac can’t say he feels sorry for their loss - he never quite had the creepy facial hair for cheesy porn anyway.
Still, going through such a near-death experience has made Courfeyrac develop a new appreciation for how fleeting life is, which in turn has led to Bahorel developing a new appreciation for throwing his shoes at Courfeyrac’s head. Oh, sweet summer child, Courfeyrac thinks sadly, he will never know how ephemeral life can be.
Combeferre’s very fond voice, in the back of his head, tells him to stop being an overdramatic idiot.
And oh yes, Combeferre. Courfeyrac hadn’t allowed himself to go back to the bookshop until he was sure Enjolras would allow him to live - no point in making Combeferre fall in love with him, which everyone knows was just bound to happen, if Enjolras was going to violently murder him some point down the line.
And now, two weeks later, when Enjolras has shown no intentions of ripping Courfeyrac’s still-beating heart from his chest, he starts to think about what to do about Combeferre.
He’s never cared about dating rules or conventions and what he wants for their first date is to take Combeferre home with him, make him a nice cup of tea and cuddle the fuck out of him under a blanket while marathoning Doctor Who, because even if Combeferre doesn't like the actual show, he will at least agree with the Doctor when he says that bowties are cool (Courfeyrac didn't use to think that bowties were cool - and then he met Combeferre).
So, Courfeyrac knows exactly what to do once Combeferre agrees to go on a date with him. He just doesn’t know how to get him to agree. And he’s not even allowing himself to think about the fact that he’ll be asking Combeferre out in a bookshop, where there will be countless creepy romance novels glaring at him and judging his wooing techniques. On the bright side, he supposes there’s bound to be at least one copy of Twilight somewhere in there so it’s not like those nasty judgemental little books have a leg to stand on when it comes to romance, considering the company they're keeping. Still, they probably already hate Courfeyrac because they’re books and therefore think, in their bookishly entitled little minds, that they know all about plot twists and romantic gestures and Courfeyrac’s sure they have already guessed he wants Combeferre to spend more time with him and less time with them. It is probably of vital importance that Combeferre is not allowed to ask the books for dating advice.
The problem isn’t even that Courfeyrac isn't used to getting people to go out with him - he's perfectly aware of just how charming he can be when he wants to. It's just. Well. He wants it to be special. And special doesn’t usually include going out with a guy you only met because once upon a time he slept with the Bella Swan to his best friend’s Edward Cullen - and yeah, Courfeyrac may have read the books, but he was home sick with the flu and Marius had left them in his bedroom and there just was nothing else to do.
But Courfeyrac really isn't the kind of person who sleeps with his friend's boyfriends. Courfeyrac is a very awesome (and very humble) person. Even Enjolras agrees (well, not so much on the humble part, but still). Courfeyrac is awesome.
And who better to tell Combeferre that Courfeyrac is a total awesome human being than the people who hang out with him everyday and already think he's awesome? Courfeyrac reasons it’s a completely bullet-proof plan.
Introducing Combeferre to his friends already, however, isn't one. It's not like Courfeyrac doesn't love his friends, he absolutely adores the little shits, but it takes everyone a little while to get used to the adorable mix of weird and lovable that they all are and Courfeyrac would rather Combeferre already had very good reasons to stick around before meeting them. So, it is obvious Combeferre must first get the amazing mind-blowing experience that it is to go out on a date with Courfeyrac.
But for that to happen, it is necessary that he says yes. And so, Courfeyrac comes up with another Plan. If you ask Enjolras, he will tell you that Courfeyrac’s plans are complete bullshit. Enjolras is, objectively speaking, an idiot. Courfeyrac’s plans are the stuff of legends.
Seriously, who else would think of getting their friends to write them dating recommendation letters? It is, Courfeyrac thinks, the perfect plan. You get recommendation letters for jobs from people you've worked with, why shouldn’t you get recommendation letters for (romantic) relationships from people you actually do have (platonic) relationships with? It is a Great Plan.
And therefore Courfeyrac bribes, whines, blackmails, sulks, pouts and generally annoys everyone into writing him a goddam letter until all his friends have given in - and if he was another kind of person, he’d be worried about why it took Enjolras so little time to give in, but Courfeyrac likes to believe in the honesty of people and inner goodness of the human spirit. And also in the relaxing power of Grantaire’s blowjobs.
He bursts into Combeferre’s bookshop on a rainy Thursday afternoon (freaking Parisian weather, it's like everyone neglected to inform it that it's suppose to be summer), dripping water all over the hardwood floor and quickly throws his pink Hello Kitty umbrella into the umbrella stand by the door.
“Hello,” Combeferre says with a soft smile. He is wearing a green bowtie this time. “I see you’re still alive.”
“I’m just surprised as you are, to be honest.” Courfeyrac grins as he grabs a stack of letters from inside his backpack and flings it unceremoniously to the floor.
“Have you gotten lost?” Combeferre asks. “The post office is two doors down, you know.”
"I've been thinking," Courfeyrac says.
"Oh dear," Combeferre replies with the easy grin that Courfeyrac already likes so much. "I have the feeling that that's how trouble usually starts."
"Oh, ye of little faith," Courfeyrac says, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead and sighing rather dramatically. "I'll have you know I have come here with nothing but your best interests at heart."
"I'm sure you have," Combeferre says, and he manages to keep almost all sarcasm out of his voice. Courfeyrac appreciates the effort, he really does. "So, what have you been thinking about?”
"I have been thinking that you should go out with a date. With me." Courfeyrac says confidently.
The way Combeferre’s face lights up at this may make some butterflies set up camp on Courfeyrac's stomach. He really, really wants to pull him down by the stupid green bowtie and kiss him senseless. But he won't. Not yet, anyway. Because he has a Plan, and plans are important. It is essential for Combeferre to understand that Courfeyrac is a perfect date and a perfect boyfriend and a perfect human being (although maybe not a very humble person). And there’s no one better than his friends to tell Combeferre that, except perhaps Courfeyrac’s mom, but dating etiquette really does not include asking your mother to tell boys they should date you.
"Have you?" Combeferre asks, trying to keep his voice level, but there is an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes.
"Yes. But I also realized that all you know about it is that I am some kind of weird person who doubles as a pornstar in his free time. So you need to be told why you should date me!"
"I see," Combeferre says, looking like he does not see at all. "And so the letters are...?"
"Recommendation letters! From friends."
"Recommendation letters," Combeferre feels the need to repeat. "You somehow felt you needed recommendation letters from your friends to get me to agree to go on a date with you?"
"Yes?” Courfeyrac asks slowly.
"Right," Combeferre says, nodding to himself. "Why wouldn't you do that, that makes perfect sense."
Courfeyrac settles the pile of letters down on the counter. “Read them?"
"Sure," Combeferre says, grabbing the letter on top of the pile. The neat writing on the envelope means it can only belongs to one person: Enjolras. Courfeyrac really would rather Combeferre had started off with someone who doesn’t look like they’re still one wrong word away from making a grab for a knife every damn time Courfeyrac opens his mouth.
Combeferre’s eyes shoot up almost immediately after he starts reading. "You really didn't read them before giving them to me, did you?"
"No?" Courfeyrac asks with a nervous smile. "You're really not supposed to read your own recommendation letters."
Combeferre looks like he has to try very hard to fight off a smile as he hands Courfeyrac the letter. "You should probably read this out loud."
"Of course, I can do that," Courfeyrac says and tries to make his voice go all lovely and deep as he begins to read Enjolras’ letter, “Citizen, do not go out with Courfeyrac. Go out with Courfeyrac and any shred of normalcy in your life will disappear. Don’t even think about it.” Courfeyrac gulps in terror and quickly looks over the rest of the letter, seeing bullet points and expressions like “complete idiot”, “serious lack of a brain-to-mouth filter”, “really low life expectancy as I am bound to kill him sooner or later” and “revolutionary fervor” and does the first thing he can think of, which is to rip the letter into tiny little pieces and shove them all inside his mouth.
He blinks innocently at Combeferre. Combeferre blinks back at him.
“Are you going to swallow that?” Combeferre asks and there’s a “spit or swallow” joke in there that Courfeyrac would really love to make if his mouth wasn’t stuffed with paper.
He vigorously nods his head instead.
“Right,” Combeferre says, nodding to himself, “let me just go get you a glass of water to help with the digestion, then.”
He leaves the room muttering something about ‘black-haired idiots’ and Courfeyrac seriously considers getting everyone edible paper for Christmas but when Combeferre comes back, he has already swallowed most of the paper.
“How did you even do that so fast?” Combeferre asks, handing Courfeyrac the glass of water and sounding both fascinated and horrified.
Courfeyrac shrugs and finishes the glass at a single gulp. “Guess all that time swallowing notes in highschool actually payed off.”
“So,” Combeferre says, matter-of-factly, “That was Enjolras.”
“That was Enjolras,” Courfeyrac confirms, “On the plus side, no one will also be as bad as him. Read on!”
“Courfeyrac, you really don’t need to - “
“Shh,” Courfeyrac shushes him, “Read on, will you?”
Combeferre picks up another envelope, this one with a surprisingly accurate caricature of Courfeyrac drawn on it - Grantaire’s letter, then. Grantaire who is still glaring daggers at him when he feels Enjolras isn’t being terrifying enough. Courfeyrac really should have read the letters first.
Combeferre glances at Grantaire’s letter and makes an odd choking noise. “Courfeyrac,” he says very patiently, “there are only three words in this letter.”
“Oh?” Three words can’t be too bad. “What did he say?”
“Courfeyrac isn’t Enjolras,” Combeferre reads and Courfeyrac hides his face in his hands.
“Read another one?” He says in a very small voice.
Combeferre sighs, grabbing another envelope. The handwriting on it is clearly Éponine’s, but there is a weird lumpy shape inside it that Courfeyrac does not understand until Combeferre removes it from inside the envelope and Courfeyrac can see that it is, in fact, a USB drive.
“Well, that makes no sense,” he says with a frown, “Did she write anything else?”
“Yes,” Combeferre says in a choked voice and the tips of his ears go slightly pink, “Inside the envelope she wrote ‘gives good head’”.
How the hell did Éponine get a copy of the damned tape?
Courfeyrac looks at Combeferre. Combeferre looks at Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac looks at the USB drive.
“Courfeyrac,” Combeferre says, very slowly, “you are not going to eat the USB drive as well.”
“But - “
“No.”
“Spoilsport,” Courfeyrac says with a pout, “Fine. But you’re going to owe me a healthy, well-balanced meal, then.”
“Just like the USB drive would have been a healthy, well-balanced meal?” Combeferre asks, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.
“Judge not lest ye be judged,” Courfeyrac says piously and the look on Combeferre's eyes suggests he has to refrain himself from hitting Courfeyrac with the remaining stack of letters.
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but who’s next?” He says instead.
Courfeyrac considers this, before grabbing Joly’s recommendation letter from the pile of envelopes and handing it to Combeferre. It isn’t so much that he trusts Joly more than he trusts the rest of his friends, but, for some strange reason, it is a very thick envelope and Courfeyrac is reasonably sure he that he can grab it from Combeferre’s hands and run as fast as he can out of the store before the letter gets too bad.
Combeferre takes the letter out of the envelope, quickly glances at it and immediately dissolves into helpless laughter. This does nothing for Courfeyrac’s nerves.
“What’s so funny?” He asks, dreading the answer.
Combeferre has to bite his cheek to stop laughing before answering Courfeyrac. “This isn’t so much a recommendation letter as it is your entire medical history.”
Courfeyrac shrugs. “Coming from Joly, that is a recommendation letter.”
“Oh,” Combeferre says, “Courfeyrac, this is all very nice, but - “
“You have to keep reading!” Courfeyrac is not above resorting to begging, “Please, please, keep reading?”
“I don’t need to keep reading,” Combeferre says calmly.
“Right,” Courfeyrac nods, feeling extremely sorry for himself. “I’ll just see myself out then, yeah?”
“No!” Combeferre reaches out with his right hand and grabs Courfeyrac’s arm. “You don’t understand. I don’t need to keep reading because I already know that I want to say yes.”
“Oh, but - Why?” Courfeyrac can’t keep the tone of surprise out of his voice. “Those weren’t exactly glowing recommendations.”
“I didn’t need glowing recommendations, you know,” Combeferre says with a soft smile, “You could have just asked and I would’ve said yes.”
“See, I did not know that.” Courfeyrac points out, “Wait, but you still want to go on a date with me even after those letters?”
“After those letters, I want to go on a date with you even more,” Combeferre says with a smile that lights up the entire bookshop.
“But they were horrible,” Courfeyrac feels the need to point out, and maybe Enjolras was right - he does not know when to shut up.
“That’s it, though.” Combeferre explains, “They were awful. But you trusted your friends enough to not read them before giving them to me and your friends loved you enough to go along with your ridiculous idea - “
“That was not a ridiculous idea,” Courfeyrac interrupts indignantly.
“Yes, it was. And you know it was,” Combeferre says softly.
Courfeyrac shrugs. “Did you see Enjolras letter, though? He gave you an alphabetized list as to why you shouldn’t go out with me!”
“No,” Combeferre says, “he gave me an alphabetized description of who you are. I barely know you and I already know you aren’t a quiet person, Courfeyrac. You’re loud and you’re dramatic and you’re, occasionally, completely ridiculous and you’re always going to be like that. Enjolras just told me what to expect. Besides, you didn’t see how your he finished his letter, did you?”
“Trust me, Combeferre, I saw enough,” Courfeyrac says sadly.
“I daresay you didn’t. Because while Enjolras did enumerate what you consider to be all of your shortcomings in alphabetic order, he also mentioned that if I were ever to hurt you, he would come into my bookshop and set fire to all my books.”
“Oh,” Courfeyrac says, taken aback, “but Enjolras loves books.”
“Clearly,” Combeferre says softly, “he loves you more.”
Courfeyrac has no idea what to say to that. “So, you’re going to go out with me because my best friend apparently loves me more than he loves books?”
“I own a bookshop, he really couldn’t have given you a higher recommendation,” Combeferre says and Courfeyrac makes a mental note to never be mean to Enjolras again.
For the next twenty-four hours, at least.