This was for a prompt from Tumblr user thor-broke-the-rainbow-bridge, who gave me the prompt of "malapert" and Combeferre/Courfeyrac.
"Whatever you're doing, it can't be that urgent."
Combeferre, at his desk, was turned away from the bed where Courfeyrac had flung himself, but he could well imagine how Courfeyrac looked: sprawled, limbs everywhere, hair scattered, mouth curved with mischief.
"I am reviewing the article I wrote for the new pamphlet." Combeferre was aware that he sounded prim and stern, like a schoolmaster in love with propriety and afraid of laughter. He knew, too, that his severity would only prod Courfeyrac to new heights of sauciness, but Combeferre could not regret that.
"Pfft!" Courfeyrac rose from the bed with an audible creak, stomping over to Combeferre's side to loom over him with folded arms and a half-hearted attempt at a serious look. "The new pamphlet! In the first place, my dear Combeferre, even Enjolras doesn't expect to have the new pamphlet ready before next week. In the second place, I can tell you exactly what is wrong with your article, without even reading it. It is beautifully reasoned, but much too mild, much too restrained, much too correct. You are always correct. It's your most irritating quality, my friend." With this last sally, Courfeyrac knelt by Combeferre's chair, leaning against his leg.
"And yours is your runaway tongue." Combeferre wished Courfeyrac didn't feel quite so warm and firm.
"You know perfectly well how best to silence me," Courfeyrac murmured, casting his eyes down with an entirely unbelievable show of docility.
Of course, that wasn't true at all. Courfeyrac could tease and taunt and argue with kisses and caresses even better than he did with words.
"Are you trying to annoy me into kissing you?" Combeferre did his best to accompany this question with a frown; he suspected, however, that he had only managed to muster up an indulgent half-smile.
"Well, yes," Courfeyrac admitted, pressing even closer. "I do think it's the best tactic. You enjoy correcting all of us when we go astray. And we rely on you for it. I merely offer you a better method of correction, that's all. Would you leave me in ignorance, when you could show me the error of my ways?" Courfeyrac looked up through heavy eyelashes, his smile beguiling despite its smugness, or perhaps even because of it.
Combeferre surrendered. He slid down from his chair, and allowed Courfeyrac to be as impudent as he pleased, in the language he liked best.