"Enjolras?"

The man didn't look up at first, knowing whose voice it was he figured that they wouldn't mind if he continued to work on his figures, things he was working out for their insurrection that had tumbled down upon them like a wave, whether they were ready or not. At a soft "tut" of what he knew was a ploy for his attention he finally looked up, cocking a blond eyebrow at the other man.

"Yes, Courfeyrac, what is it? Aren't you supposed to be heading out to talk to the workers down by the river?"

"I've done that already, it's been several hours, mon ami." Courfeyrac said, the corner of his mouth quirking up at the surprised look on Enjolras' face, chuckling softly. "I came back to make sure you remembered to eat, and get on your way home."

"I'm not a child, Courfeyrac." Enjolras said with a sigh, shuffling his papers into order and tucking them into his bag, and he heard another little chirp of laughter, although it had an odd note to it that Enjolras couldn't quite puzzle over. He glanced around as he stood up, noting that the room was empty aside from Grantaire slumbering in the corner and Joly and Bossuet haring a late one over some dominoes, and he realized that it was indeed rather late at that point.

"Sometimes I do question that, you know. What would you do without me and dear old 'Ferre to coddle you?"

"I could do without some of your nit picking, my friend." Enjolras remarked, but Courfeyrac wasn't the slightest bit daunted by it, smiling cheerfully at him as he donned his hat before they went outside, adjusting it on his head to a perfect angle which made Enjolras shake his head. He had never quite understood his friend, not since he had first met him when he moved to Paris for school, tugging Combeferre after him everwhere he went, always with a smile on his face and a warm open heart, ready to accept everyone and everything, except injustice. Courfeyrac had a bleeding heart, he wanted to help everyone but he didn't always think, so Enjolras always found his scolding a little ironic.

"What would you even do without me, my dear Apollo?" Courfeyrac said as they stepped outside into the brisk summer evening, only a gentle breeze ruffling his curls that stuck out from under his hat. Enjolras didn't bother with any of the frivolous fashion statements, but Coureyrac's coats and even his culottes were to the highest point of fashion, even his hair which Combeferre had once let slip he curled meticulously every morning no matter how early he woke for classes. He'd found it oddly endearing, somehow, although like many things he would never voice it. They walked down the street despite the dark skies, Courfeyrac chattering away with full knowledge that Enjolras wasn't paying much attention, in fact he mostly did so when the words died off and he lapsed into silence, and when he looked over he was a bit stunned to find Courfeyrac looking right him, an odd look to his warm grey eyes. He blinked a few times, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"What is it? You stopped talking?"

"I do that on occasion, you know." Courfeyrac quipped, but it was without his normal exuberance, and his eyebrows scrunched together as he looked away again, his steps coming to a halt, and Enjolras followed suit, surprised by the look on his face.

"Pardon?"

"I'm not a mindless fool, I just like speaking my mind, although to be honest I don't always quite know what to say to you."

"To me? I always listen to what you have to say, on most occasions at least, there are certain subjects of which I have no desire to speak about."

"Yes, yes, I'm aware that I'm a bit too open about certain subjects for your taste. However, there's one thing that I haven't found the right words to say, not even to 'Ferre, I don't know quite how to say it to you."

Enjolras just watched the expressions flitting over his face, it was strange to see the range of them that could wash over his features in a matter of moments, and yet somehow that rendered them unreadable. Or perhaps everyone was right, perhaps he simply didn't know how to read them, Courfeyrac was such an open book and yet at that moment it was like it was in some completely different language that he wasn't meant to understand.

"I'll admit, I'm not quite following you,friend."

"I imagine you're not, I'm afraid my mind's all a-jumble and I don't even know what I'm trying to tell you, or how to say it." He shuffled his feet, his fingers reaching up to fumble with one of his many curls, a habit Enjolras has noticed several times before, another small thing he found a little endearing. He wondered when he'd even begun to think it as such, it hadn't really occurred to him before it just was a natural thought, the way he thought about the little quirks his friend had.

"Come, let's keep going, it's getting rather late and the streets are not safe." Enjolras suggested, but Courfeyrac shook his head almost stubbornly, like a child.

"No, wait, it'll just be a moment, I just-I want to tell you this, before I lose the courage." He hesitated, reaching up to curl his fingers around the brim of his hat, sweeping it off his head and holding onto it with both hands. "I know that perhaps I have the worst sense of timing, but I feel as if the clock is ticking faster and faster and I fear I'll be out of time. So just…permit me this one thing, Enjolras, and I'll ask nothing more of you."

"Once again, you've lost me." Enjolras remarked, although he was watching him closely, trying to figure out what his friend was saying, but all his thoughts seemed to halt as he felt something warm against his lips, and it took only a heartbeat and yet felt like ages when he realized it was the other boy's lips, his eyes squeezed shut almost comically and if he had any thought process left he would've laughed at that. As it was he didn't know how to react, his body stiffening without him meaning it to, and he felt the breeze once more against his face as Courfeyrac drew back immediately, his cheeks painted scarlet with blush as he worried at his lower lip, fingers rumpling his hat in their nervous movement.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so forward, I just-before I ran out of time, I wanted only to do that, to show you that I feel quite a lot for you, more than I'd thought possible, and I-"

"Please be quiet, my friend." Enjolras said, and he could see a moment of mixed fear and panic running through Courfeyrac's eyes, but then his lips curved up in a soft smile and he reached up, placing a fingers over his lips. "Don't talk, if you can't express it well that way, I believe this is better."

When he leaned up to press his lips to Courferyac's, it was like suddenly he understood everything, it all had a meaning, he could feel everything much more vividly, and he felt his friend's fingers clutching onto the front of his coat to draw him closer, almost urgently, as he kissed him back. It was the only time that Courfeyrac did not mourn the loss of his hat, for what he had gained, if even for that brief moment, was so much brighter, and it made the future seem so much brighter. If Enjolras didn't arrive at his flat that night, well, no one said a word, because in their small corner of the world as they simply laid together that night nothing mattered but each other, even knowing that a week from then none of it would matter couldn't ruin that warmth that had kindled between them.