I'm relatively new to this fandom, so this may be inaccurate/awful/I don't even know. Bear in mind, I've only read a bit of the brick so some characterisations might not be perfect but ah well. I've had this idea for a while now, but I only decided I actually wanted to write it recently so... here we go.
Set in modern day, because I know I'd end up messing up with the historical stuff because I'd forget Les Mis is set in the 19th century. Sick!fic, as it's just so fun to write:)
The other boys are not particularly surprised by the familiar glazed look on Joly's face as he walks into the café. It isn't uncommon for him to come to a meeting, sniffling profusely as if his dear life depended on it(and if you asked him, he probably would have said that really was the case). Actually, it had become quite regular occurrence. The others know that his ailments are often pulled from thin air but they just ignore him as he clears his throat for what must be the millionth time that night. Bossuet is a little more sympathetic, knowing that his friend feels awful whether the cold is actually down to his body's defences being attacked or whether it is a fabrication of his mind.
Just because Enjolras tolerates Joly's ailments, it doesn't mean that he was particularly happy about it. He cares about Joly, he really does, but he'd rather the man could decipher between when he was actually ill and when he was just getting himself worked up. The sniffling always seemed too exaggerated whenever they were absolutely certain that the illness wasn't real, and always put Enjolras off track as he spouted yet another speech about 'equal rights'.
It's not that Joly fakes it; it's his hypochondria. He's just worrisome, and even the slightest tickle of his nose on a particularly bad day could unsettle his usually jovial mood.
Courfeyrac doesn't mean to come across as not accepting of his friend's worry. He's just concerned. Joly's usually so happy, and all his hypochondriac tendencies do is hold him back. He knows that his friend his happier when he can shove aside his anxieties, so his attempts at getting him to do so are always in good heart.
"Joly, come on," he sighs, as Enjolras finishes his latest speech and wanders over to speak with Combeferre.
"I can't help it," Joly rests his chin on his hand. "I can feel a cold coming on, I can just tell."
"I'm telling you, you're fine. It's all in your head."
"Courf, you're not helping," Combeferre shakes his head from the other side of the café.
"If you had a real cold, at least half of us would have it by now, surely. I'm so sure that you're not ill that I'd let you breath on me, Jol."
"Please don't..." Joly places his aching head into his hand.
"Seriously, breathe on me!"
Joly gives in to Courfeyrac quickly and does as he is asked, too exhausted to listen to the enthusiastic man's pleads for much longer. He regrets even coming to today's meeting, wishing he'd just stayed at home and nursed his cold with a warm cup of tea. He really did feel awful, whether he was making it up or not.
"Karma's going to come back and get you, Courf!" Grantaire laughs whole-heartedly from his corner of the room. "I mean I don't know, Joly looks a little ill, don't you think?"
Courfeyrac joins in with the laughter, leaving his seat beside Joly to join Combeferre and Enjolras. As Courfeyrac and Enjolras delve into a deep discussion on this morning's classes, Combeferre takes it as his opportunity to speak to some of his other friends. He takes it upon himself- as nobody else but Bossuet seems to care- to see for himself whether there is a possibility that maybe this is one of the rare occasions that Joly's illness is not in his mind. Joly is slightly out of it, overcome with a strange feeling exhaustion, so much so that he barely notices his friend place the back of his hand onto his forehead.
"You're are a tad warm actually..."Combeferre whispers, taking a look back at Courfeyrac, knowing that he'll be regretting his actions in the morning. "I hate to say it, but Grantaire was right when he said you looked a little ill."
"I'll drive you home," Bossuet offers, already in the process of lifting his coat from the back of his chair.
The night remains busy, as it usually does after one of the friends' meetings. Whilst the meetings main purpose originally was to help organize protests against inequalities within their community, it also has acted as a brilliant way to bring the friends closer together, sharing drinks and food over sometimes in depth discussions and the occasional song or two. Courfeyrac is often be the reason they all stay until the later hours of the night, turning many of the meetings into parties which only end when they either realised they were getting a little too drunk, or they'd ran out of drink to get drunk on. Although many remain sober- including Enjolras and usually Combeferre- these nights never cease to entertain every member of the group.
For once, they call it a night a little earlier than usual. The absence of Joly is obvious; like a gaping hole amidst the friends. They miss his infectious laughter and jolly nature; and as much as they don't want to admit it, it's a little too quiet without his sniffling. Courfeyrac and Enjolras walk back to Combeferre's. Courfeyrac, in the process of moving to a new apartment, has taken up lodging in his friend's spare room, and with university getting tougher, he's also blessed with Enjolras' presence, as the two are planning to make an attempt at studying together.