Hi guys! It has been waaaay too long and I have been away from a laptop for an unreasonable amount of time, but I am back with my first Courferre fanfiction (I'd like to think my writing's improved a little since I last wrote on here haha). So this is a fic I wrote with the help of my friend Sarah (or Courf – either way they're the best) and the title of the fic is also courtesy of them. They are crownless on AO3 and I would highly recommend checking their stuff out. Fic is based on Passenger Seat by Death Cab For Cutie.
Enjoy!
-Abie
"Feeeerre..." Courfeyrac leans over Combeferre's chair as he sits frowning at his laptop screen. He looks up at Courf, glasses perched on the end of his nose, raising an eyebrow. "Watcha doing?"
"You remember I was telling you my friend and I were going to the observatory tomorrow? They dropped out this morning, family emergency. I'm trying to work out how much a taxi would cost."
"You're not driving?"
"I just..." Ferre shrugs, looking at his hands. "I don't like driving on my own after..." Courf nods. He doesn't need reminding of the day he received the phone call to say Ferre had been rushed into A and E after a horrible crash.
"A taxi that far will cost a fortune," Courfeyrac muses. "You should just take someone else."
"As if anyone's going to drop everything to babysit me to an observatory within a day's notice, Courf."
The statement gathers the attention of Grantaire and Joly, sat in the corner nursing drinks. Grantaire holds up two fingers to Joly and they shake on their unspoken deal.
"I'll come," Courf replies without hesitation. Combeferre's face lights up in a way Courf likes to imagine only happens when they're together. Joly hands Grantaire €20.
"Really? That would be great!"
"Sure!" Courf's eyes shine in a way that sends a shiver across Combferre's body. "It's a date."
Grantaire snorts.
-
Courfeyrac is half way home when his phone buzzes.
R: smooth.
Courf sighs, shaking his head and wondering why he ever told Grantaire about his not-so-subtle crush on his best friend. About a minute later, his phone buzzes again.
Bossuet: oh comBefeeeeEeeere ill joiiiin u smooOOOCH SMOOCH
Courf would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't concentrating so hard on keeping the blush off his face. The next text he receives is from Combeferre, and after a moment he gives up fighting to keep the smile from his face.
Combaeferre: are you coming to mine tomorrow or...?
Courf quickly types out a reply, barely hesitating at his promise to be at Ferre's by 8 the next morning, and breathes a sigh. As much as he loves the Amis, he relishes the days it's just him and Combeferre, alone. It's foolish to think that anything could ever come from his crush on his best friend, but Courf loves what he already has with Combeferre, as platonic as it may be. To be near Ferre is enough to keep Courf feeling at home.
-
Courfeyrac is sure he's had some sort of recurring dream through the night of his alarm going off without really waking him. When he rolls over on to his side to snooze his alarm, he realises why the scene seems so familiar. 7:50. Uh oh.
In about two minutes, Courf has thrown on the first sort-of-matching outfit he can find and is rummaging through the cupboards to find a suitable breakfast. He finally comes to the sorry conclusion that it is too late to make cereal, and proposes to himself a breakfast out. Sending Ferre a quick apology, he heads out to the patisserie across the road.
When Courf pulls up outside Combeferre's apartment block and texts Ferre to say he's arrived, it's only a couple of moments before Ferre steps out. Courfeyrac has to do a double-take. Combeferre is looking sleepy and disheveled, wearing a crumpled button-up shirt and jeans, his hair ruffled and stubble unshaven. Courf takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself in the three seconds he has until Ferre opens the car door.
"Hey, sorry I look so awful," Combeferre starts, "Your text woke me up."
You never look awful. "Seriously? Since when do you ever sleep in past 7?" Courf frowns.
"Since finals kept me up till 2am last night," Ferre mumbles, shrugging. His stomach grumbles and Courf gives him a fond look.
"That is the sound of someone who hasn't eaten this morning."
"Not you too, Courf," Ferre sighs. "I eat when I have time, and I had no time this morning. I'm fine."
"Well, I guess you won't be wanting any of Musichetta's pastries then."
Combeferre's face softens. "Courf, really, you don't have to do that."
"Shame," Courf shrugs, pulling out the paper bag from by his feet. "I already did."
"Courfeyrac, you are a star."
"I try," Courf grins, taking out a croissant and digging in. For a moment, Combeferre can't take his eyes off him, watching as he happily bites into the pastry and somehow manages to get icing sugar on his nose. Combeferre does not think about how much he would like to kiss it off. Oh no.
Courfeyrac smiles as he watches Combeferre wolf down the pastry. When Ferre notices, he furrows his brow. "Can I help you?"
"Oh, uh. Um. Nah. Just waiting."
"For what?" Ferre frowns.
"To leave."
"Courf, you're the one driving."
Courfeyrac looks down at the steering wheel in front of him and offers a sheepish grin. "Oh. Right."
Ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks, Courf starts the ignition and they begin their road trip.
It's about half an hour later when they reach a cross road.
"Okay Ferre," Courf turns his head towards Combeferre, "Which way?"
Ferre pats his pockets and opens his rucsac. "Uh... confession? I may have forgotten the directions."
"You're kidding." Courf points to the glove box and Combeferre pulls out a road map.
"This old thing?"
"That 'old thing'," Courfeyrac puts a hand over his heart dramatically, "Has brought me through thick and thin. And we can find the observatory with it."
It's another hour before they reach the observatory. An hour of "Courf, let's just ask for directions" and "Combeferre, are you insinuating that my map isn't good enough?" and "hi there, I don't suppose you could point us towards the observatory?" and "really, Ferre? Really?" before they finally pull up in the small car park and make their way inside.
Courfeyrac has little interest in the stars beyond looking up into the sky and trying to make out the zodiac constellations, but Combeferre's astronomy professor recommended her students visit this observatory at some point over the course. And, although he would never admit it to Ferre, Courf would happily drop everything with only a moment's notice if it meant a road trip and a day of listening to Combeferre talk about something that really strikes up a passion within him. It might be dangerous, he thinks, to spend what Combeferre thinks is a Friend Outing simply falling further and further for Ferre. He almost feels guilty for it. Combeferre, he knows, will never feel anything more than friendship for him, and as much as that hurts, Courfeyrac knows he has been blessed beyond words through their friendship. Even if he thought there was some tiny chance that Ferre would say yes if Courf asked, their friendship is too much to risk.
Combeferre will never get tired of the way Courfeyrac listens so intently to everything he says, never letting him feel like he's said too much or that the topic is boring or that he wants to talk about something else. Ferre knows how little astronomy actually interests Courf, and is eternally grateful to have someone to babble on to about the little facts that he picks up walking around the observatory. Courfeyrac's attention is something Combeferre would love to hold on to forever. To have Courf look at him with that adoring smile he saves for his favourite things in the world, to be the cause of Courfeyrac's contagious laughter, to be the person Courfeyrac falls in love with. Combeferre shakes the thought from his mind. Courfeyrac does not love him. They're just friends, and as much as that word pangs in Ferre's chest, he knows there is nothing he can do to change it.
It's nearing 6 o'clock when Combeferre and Courfeyrac decide it's time to head home. Courf doesn't mention the growing bags under Ferre's eyes or the inevitable stream of yawns, but simply offers a fond smile and suggests they leave.
The air is bitter as they walk out the observatory, and the sun is setting, creating some kind of fiery halo around Combeferre's head, and Courfeyrac's breath hitches because Combeferre is just so beautiful. He quickly catches up before Ferre realises and they get going.
They are only driving ten minutes when Courfeyrac begins to hear a soft snuffling coming from the passenger seat beside him, and he looks over to see Combeferre curled up as much as is possible when wearing a seatbelt, glasses slowly slipping down his face. Courfeyrac knows he's going to need a map reader, but he doesn't have the heart to wake Combeferre. It's been too long since he's been this relaxed in a car, and the poor man has had such a long day. It's only fair. And it has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with how adorable Combeferre looks. Nope.
Courfeyrac spends the next fifteen minutes driving around in circles when Combeferre begins to shift in the passenger seat.
"Courf," Combeferre mumbles, "Where are we? Any closer to home?"
"That, my dear sleepy friend, is a very good question," Courfeyrac smiles, laughing nervously. "One I don't happen to know the answer to."
"I thought I was Designated Map Reader?" Combeferre sits up, straightening his glasses. "Why didn't you ask me?"
"I, uh... I didn't want to wake you," Courf murmurs, "It's been a long day."
"Cute." Combeferre yawns. "But impractical."
"How can you use such a big word as impractical when you literally woke up twenty seconds ago?"
"It won't last," Combeferre shrugs.
It doesn't last. It isn't long before Combeferre has absent-mindedly rolled down his window and is leaning out, watching the stars.
"Ferre, it's kinda cold," Courfeyrac says between shivers, reaching out a hand to pull Combeferre back.
"But Courf have you seen it? There are so many stars and shooting stars and it all smells like a forest, and Courf, everything feels so like home."
Home is where you are. "That's great, Ferre, but can it feel like home inside the car where it's warmer?"
"Courf, a shooting star!" Combeferre cries out as if he hasn't even heard Courfeyrac. "Oh, never mind, it's a satellite." He puts his head back in the car and winds up the window, offering Courf a sleepy smile. I want to fall asleep to that smile every night. "Hey Courf, do you think they ever crash? The shooting stars and the satellites? It's bound to happen sometime, right? Courf?" but Courf simply smiles. He is so at peace. He is so at home. He is so in love. Oh.
"Tell, you what, Ferre, you get out the map and see where we are and how we get home."
Combeferre puts his glasses on his head and opens the map. "Courf, this is so blurry. You need a new map."
"Combeferre, you just took your glasses off."
"Courf, it's blurry! You need a new map, this is old."
Courfeyrac laughs and Combeferre allows himself to focus on that laugh, that beautiful, strrong, anchoring laugh. Because the world is a blur but it doesn't matter, because he is solid and he is steady and he is here. Now.
"Ferre, maybe you should go back to sleep and let me do some navigating, okay?"
Ferre frowns but leans back into his seat and offers Courfeyrac a drowsy smile. "Night Courf, don't keep us lost."
"Night, Ferre." I want you to fall asleep beside me every night.
When Combeferre's breathing evens out, Courfeyrac allows himself a lingering glance, relishing the way Combeferre's hair flops down over his face a little, the way he will every so often make a snuffling noise not unlike a puppy, the way he is completely relaxed. Courfeyrac has no idea where in the world they are, but he has never felt more at home.
"Of all the people I could have possibly fallen in love with," he breathes, "It had to be you."
Courfeyrac isn't sure how, but he manages to navigate them back to Courfeyrac and Enjolras' apartment without waking Combeferre. When he wakes the next morning it is gone 9 o'clock, and he can hear a muffled conversation coming from the kitchen.
"Enjolras, I need your opinion on something," Combeferre is saying, "I think I heard Courf say something last night, but..."
"Ask away, Ferre," Enjolras replies, "But the realm of Courfeyrac's verbal meaning is beyond exploration."
"Do you... do you think he might like me?"
There is a pause, and Courfeyrac takes his chance to sneak out of his room and stand just out of Combeferre's eye line behind the door. Enjolras sees him and they lock eyes for a second.
"Why don't you ask him yourself?"
Courfeyrac pales, but is too frozen to react before Combeferre turns and sees him, a deer in the headlights, opening his mouth with no words to say. Enjolras makes a quick escape, and Combeferre's face softens.
"You said it, didn't you?" Ferre asks, taking a step forward. "I wasn't dreaming."
"You weren't dreaming," Courfeyrac echoes, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry, Ferre, I should have told you, you deserved to know I kept it from you, I'm s-"
Courfeyrac is interrupted by lips on his. Soft, gentle lips and they're Combeferre's lips and Combeferre is kissing him and Combeferre is pulling away too soon and those syes are watching him, and Courfeyrac is so in love and Combeferre is smiling, smiling that smile Courfeyrac likes to imagine he only smiles when they're together, smiling that smile Combeferre knows is reserved for Courfeyrac and Courfeyrac alone. And they are home.