Even if every Les Mis fic was Courferre, there would still not be enough Courferre. I'm still going to try.
Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis.
"Honey, do yourself a favor and put that garbage back down. Even I would be more absorbing to take home than that drivel."
Courfeyrac was rather proud of himself for the line. To his disappointment, Combeferre just arched an eyebrow at him.
"Why do you insist on trying all of your pick up lines out on me?" he sighed. Courfeyrac wasn't about to admit that he was waiting to see if any of them would work, so he just shrugged.
"I've got to try them out on someone," he replied. "But honestly, that book is horrible. My sister read it and we had a great time making fun of it together. Don't bother. You can do much better."
"Would you consider yourself to be much better?" Combeferre asked dryly. Courfeyrac shrugged.
"You can do me if you want," he replied. Combeferre snorted in laughter.
"I suppose I did walk into that one," he murmured. Courfeyrac draped himself over Combeferre's shoulder, which took some maneuvering, considering he was half a foot shorter than Combeferre was.
"Come on. Let's go somewhere else. This bookstore is overpriced and badly stocked anyway." A passing employee gave Courfeyrac a dirty look, which he ignored. "We can find someplace better."
"Your bed?" Combeferre muttered, setting down the book and walking to the door. Courfeyrac grinned.
"I'm willing if you are," he replied. Combeferre rolled his eyes. Courfeyrac hated that his flirting was seen as nothing more than jokes, when he was actually serious this time, but he knew that would be how it was until he vocalized his feelings in a non-joking way, and he had no desire to put his heart on the line like that.
"How about that little coffee shop instead?" Combeferre recommended. Courfeyrac grinned.
"The one with the killer hot chocolate?" he asked. Combeferre nodded. "Sounds perfect to me. Shall we?"
"Oh, after you," Combeferre replied, letting Courfeyrac step out first. He did so without so much as a moment's hesitation; the bookstore was stuffy. Outside was cold, but he slid on his gloves and buttoned his coat.
"It's so cold," Combeferre muttered, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck and nestling his face into it. Courfeyrac wrapped an arm around his waist.
"Body heat, then?" he asked. "We mustn't let you freeze, after all."
"I don't think I'm in danger of freezing," Combeferre replied, but he didn't push Courfeyrac away or move out of reach. "The coffee shop isn't that far away. We'll be there before I have time to freeze."
"Ah, but as your friend I must do all that I can to keep you from even getting close," Courfeyrac replied. He went up on tip-toe and pressed a dramatic kiss to Combeferre's cheek. "I couldn't let your pretty face get frostbite, could I?"
"We're not on stage, you know," Combeferre muttered, a flush creeping up his neck. "You don't have to act all the time."
"Who says I'm acting?" Courfeyrac countered, but he thought it was probably best not to do any more unexpected kisses. "We should have taken that last turn, by the way."
"Now you remind me," Combeferre sighed, turning around. They walked down the side street until they reached the door to the coffee shop, stepping inside. It was much warmer and smelled like coffee and cinnamon.
"This is such a great place," Courfeyrac sighed. Combeferre nodded.
"I love it too. Do you remember when we met here?" Courfeyrac nodded, not admitting that the memory was a big part of the reason he liked the place so much. "You almost spilled a coffee on my shirt."
"You walked into me!" Courfeyrac retorted, the easy argument one they'd had far too many times. "It's not my fault you weren't looking."
"Of course not," Combeferre murmured, looking amused as he went up to the counter. The barista was new; Courfeyrac didn't recognize her.
"A mocha cappuccino, please," Combeferre said, pushing Courfeyrac off him. The barista nodded, scrawling something on a cup.
"And for your boyfriend?" she asked. Combeferre's eyes went wide.
"We're-"
"I'm paying separately," Courfeyrac cut in smoothly, not refuting the idea that he was Combeferre's boyfriend, a thought he found rather enjoyable. The barista nodded, gave Combeferre his total, and took Courfeyrac's order. They were the only ones at the counter, so it didn't take long for them to get their drinks and sit down.
"You could branch out a bit," Courfeyrac told Combeferre, looking at his cup. "The mocha cappuccino will be the same as last time, I guarantee you."
"As if you can talk, always getting hot chocolate," Combeferre retorted. Courfeyrac shook his head, taking a sip.
"Ah, but I always get different types of hot chocolate. The peppermint and vanilla is really good, by the way."
"I'm sure," Combeferre murmured, lifting his cup to hide his smile. Courfeyrac took a self-satisfied sip of his hot chocolate. His phone buzzed in his pocket.
"Enjolras?" Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac checked.
"Yup," he replied. "We're supposed to study in half an hour. He wanted to make sure it was still on."
"Study for what?" Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac shrugged.
"Boring law stuff," he replied. "We've got a test coming up."
"Believe me, I know," Combeferre muttered. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes.
"Okay, maybe E can talk about tests a lot, but it's not like you're any different," he retorted. "I know your test schedule as well as you know it, and I'm not even in med school." Courfeyrac's phone buzzed again. "Enjolras is wondering if we can start studying now," he relayed, rolling his eyes.
"You might as well," Combeferre replied, checking his watch. "I have class in ten minutes, so I need to head out."
"I feel like I shouldn't enable him," Courfeyrac replied. Combeferre rolled his eyes.
"Enable what, his studying?" he retorted. Courfeyrac shook his head.
"The fact that he's sold his soul to law school. He needs a life."
"Just study with him," Combeferre replied, amusement in his tone. He stood. "I've really got to go."
Courfeyrac barreled into Combeferre with a hug that Combeferre honestly should have been expecting, considering how long they'd known each other. "Are we still on for tonight?"
"I wouldn't miss movie night for the world," Combeferre promised. "What are we watching?"
"It's E's turn to choose, so probably a horribly depressing documentary," Courfeyrac replied. "Or maybe Mean Girls."
"If you can talk him into Mean Girls, I will be very impressed," Combeferre replied dryly. "I don't think that's happening again."
"A man can hope," Courfeyrac sighed, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "See you tonight, then."
"See you tonight," Combeferre replied as he left the coffee shop and turned right. Courfeyrac turned left, heading back to the apartment he shared with Enjolras.
Someday, he'd tell Combeferre how he felt in a way that Combeferre would actually recognize as serious. But today… Courfeyrac sighed as he took a sip from his hot chocolate. Actions speak louder than words, but Courfeyrac would stick with playful flirtation. He'd tell Combeferre how he felt someday, but not today.