Autumn was evil, Enjolras concluded, as he stepped outside, and was immediately greeted by a gust of cold wind to the face. Enjolras let out a growl, Courfeyrac, who was a few steps ahead of him, smirking,
"Might have wanted to bring a hair tie, Enjy!" He exclaimed, as Enjolras' blonde hair seemed to move in every direction possible due to the wind. Enjolras turned around, to go back inside of the house, but Combeferre had already locked the door. Enjolras sighed, Combeferre giving him an amused look, before pulling a hair tie out of his pocket, and passing it to Enjolras. Enjolras gave him a mutter of appreciation, Courfeyrac giving Combeferre a wide-eyed look,
"You are truly magical!" He claimed, Combeferre smiling,
"No, I'm simply prepared." He replied, pausing as they reached their car, "Enjolras, would you like to drive, or should I?" He asked.
"You can," Enjolras answered, slipping in the passenger's seat. Courfeyrac climbed into one of the two back seats.
"Why can't I drive?" He asked, Combeferre and Enjolras exchanging a look.
"Because we wish to be in one piece by the time we get there." Combeferre responded, Courfeyrac rolling his eyes, but making no move to defend himself. Enjolras buckled himself in,
"Why must we do this again?" He inquired, leaning his head against the window, as Combeferre started the car.
"Because, It's Gavroche's final game of the season, he'd be devastated if we weren't there." Combeferre said, the car beginning to move out of the driveway and into the road. Enjolras closed his eyes, exhaustion weighing down his entire body. He had been up most of the night researching freedom-based things, and had barely slept. He never really had time to nap, and perhaps a small one on the 20 minute drive to the park wouldn't hurt… Though, for whatever reason, it was getting awfully hard to breath through his nose.
"Aw, Enjy's falling asleep!" Courfeyrac came in, Combeferre frowning from the driver's seat, but not turning to look at him, since he was an actually safe driver. Enjolras sighed, forcing his eyes open, and straightening up in his seat.
"You really should get more sleep," Combeferre lightly scolded, "You're doing yourself no good staying up late as you do." Enjolras frowned,
"I do others good, though," He defended, Combeferre making an exasperated but affectionate noise,
"You do other's good by taking care of yourself." He responded. Courfeyrac began chattering about something to Combeferre, and Enjolras was silent the rest of the ride. They got out of the car at the park, and headed over to the bleachers. Most of the Les Amis were already there, the families of the kids who were currently kicking a soccer ball around on the field, getting reading for the game giving them confused looks. Mainly because there were so many of them.
Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac sat next to Feuilly and Bahorel, who smiled at them,
"Ah, hello," Feuilly greeted.
"Feuilly, Bahorel, didn't think you'd make it!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, placing his hand on Bahorel's shoulder. Bahorel grinned,
"We got lucky," He said, pointing out at the field, "Kid's already making the other team nervous," He was pointing at Gavroche, who looked quite adorable out there, with his little uniform, and bright grin, and he ran through exercises with his team, though no one except Eponine would dare call him adorable to his face. Enjolras shivered, as a chilly breeze racked his body. Combeferre beckoned him forth with a hand,
"C'mere," Combeferre ordered, opening the bag he was carrying with him, and pulling out Enjolras favorite red jacket. Enjolras took it, slipping it on and giving Combeferre a mutter of thanks, while Courfeyrac gaped at Combeferre.
"Magical!" He exclaimed, Combeferre shaking his head,
"Prepared," He corrected, giving Enjolras' shoulder a quick pat, before beginning to converse with Feuilly. Enjolras climbed down the bleachers, going over to a large tree, where he could still see the game that was starting to begin. The tree's leaves were bright red, the outcome of autumn, which was evil, did he mention that?
"Hey." Enjolras whipped around, to see Grantaire leaning against the tree with a smirk. Enjolras sighed,
"Grantaire, you startled me," He murmured, Grantaire letting out a laugh,
"I always come to this tree to watch Gavroche's games when he has them here," Grantaire said.
"You go to Gavroche's games?" Enjolras asked. Grantaire nodded,
"All of them, wouldn't miss em' for the world." He replied. Enjolras gave him a half smile, new appreciation for Grantaire flooding him. He wiped his nose with his hand, and removed it, pausing when he saw the wetness it had left behind. Great. As if it could read his mind, and hated him, his nose began to run profusely, and Enjolras turned away from Grantaire, trying to stem the snot with his hand. Grantaire, thankfully, was mainly focused on the soccer game, and didn't notice him. Courfeyrac walked over to the tree, handing Enjolras a few tissues,
"Here you go, Ferre told me to give them to you - Holy cow." Courfeyrac exclaimed, as he saw how much Enjolras' nose was actually running. Courfeyrac shook his head, "Combeferre really is magical…" He walked off, Enjolras wiping at his nose, and sticking the used tissues in his pocket. Grantaire turned his head towards Enjolras,
"You alright, your cheeks are pretty red?" He asked, Enjolras slightly baffled that Grantaire had taken time to notice his cheeks.
"Yeah, It's just the stupid cold air," Enjolras responded, Grantaire giving him a nod, paired with a skeptical look, and went back to watching Gavroche. Enjolras did the same. He was certain his nose would clear up once they were inside. The game was over about forty minutes later, Gavroche's team winning by a landslide. Gavroche ran off the field the second he could, all of the Les Amis showering him with hugs and praise. Grantaire and Enjolras drifted over to join them, each giving each other a warm smile.
"Didja' see that one goal?!" Gavroche enthusiastically asked Enjolras, "I wasn't anywhere near the goal, and it still went in!" Enjolras ruffled Gavroche's hair,
"I saw everything, you did wonderful," He assured him, Gavroche running over to Azelma and Eponine, who gave him loud shouts of pride. Enjolras made his way to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who were both beaming, leaning against the bleacher railings.
"We're all going to the Musain to celebrate," Courfeyrac told him, Combeferre nodding, and passing Enjolras a few more tissues,
"Your body does not like the cold," Combeferre commented, Enjolras sighing,
"Just like my mind then." He said, as they headed out to the sidewalk. The Musain was only a five minute walk, and they could get their car later. They entered the backroom of the Musain, the friends all talking excitedly over one another. Courfeyrac jumped up on a chair,
"Let us all commend Gavroche for his excellent playing!" He cheered, everyone else cheering in response, and Gavroche beaming. Enjolras took a seat in the corner of the Musain, Combeferre sitting next to him. Neither of them were really known for socializing over great time periods, even with their friends, and both preferred to sink into the background of events such as these, enjoying each other's company.
"H'taschu!" Enjolras let out a sudden sneeze into the crook of his amr, sniffing loudly. Combeferre frowned,
"Your nose hasn't stopped running." He observed, Enjolras scowling,
"Of course it hasn't," He grumbled, mentally cursing fate, as Combeferre fished a tissue out of his pocket, passing it to him. Enjolras loudly blew his nose, before discarding it in the waste-bin near the table. Courfeyrac skipped over to him, Enjolras opening his mouth to say something, but sneezing instead, trying to desperately stop the flowing nose that came after it with the sleeve of his shirt. Combeferre handed him another tissue, Courfeyrac rolling his eyes,
"Magical," He mouthed, Combeferre rolling his eyes in turn,
"Prepared," He mouthed back. Courfeyrac frowned,
"Enjy looks really flushed, though," He pointed out, Combeferre nodding. Enjolras shook his head,
"Just the cold air!" He protested, Combeferre crossing his arms,
"We're inside, Enjolras." He countered, Enjolras shivered,
"Well, It's still cold!" He argued. Combeferre frowned, pressing the back of his hand to Enjolras' cheek. He paused for a second, frowning, then pulled a thermometer out of his bag.
"This backs up my claim of you being magical." Courfeyrac said, Combeferre rolling his eyes, and handing the thermometer to Enjolras,
"You know what to do," He ordered, Enjolras shaking his head,
"That's really not necessary-" He began, Combeferre responding by taking it and sticking it into Enjolras' mouth. By now, most of the rest of the Amis had paused their conversations in favor of watching the Triumvirates current interaction. After a few more seconds, the thermometer beeped, Combeferre sliding it out before Enjolras could intercept it.
"100.0," Combeferre read through squinted eyes, "That's the start of a fever," He claimed, Enjolras groaning,
"It's nothing, I was fine this morning," He insisted, Combeferre raising his brow,
"How about this, you sneeze one more time, Courf and I are taking you home, deal?" He offered. Enjolras nodded, taking on a confident smirk. And instantly sneezing. It was Combeferre's turn to smirk, as he forced Enjolras into his jacket, zipping it and collecting his bag. Courfeyrac, though he enjoyed socializing with friends, was also gathering his coat, Enjolras and Combeferre more important to him than anything else.
Combeferre grasped Enjolras' arm, leading him back down to their car, and securing him in the passenger seat. Courfeyrac slipped into the back again.
"You should have told us the moment you felt off," Combeferre chided, Enjolras simply rolling his eyes. Combeferre sighed, beginning the drive back to their house. Once they were back home, Combeferre glanced at the clock in the kitchen, which read "8:47." Gavroche's soccer games were later in the evening. He glanced at Enjolras, who was still was adorned with flushed cheeks and a runny nose,
"Early to bed for you tonight," He ordered, leading a protesting Enjolras into Enjolras' bedroom. He tucked Enjolras under the covers gently, kissing his forehead, "You'll feel better in the morning if you rest," Combeferre said, Enjolras frowning,
"It's too early," He complained, Combeferre shaking his head, and turning off the lamp on Enjolras bedside table, before leaving the room. Courfeyrac skipped in, giving Enjolras a grin,
"I am 99 percent sure that Combeferre is magical," Courfeyrac theorized. Enjolras rolled over, burying his head in his pillow,
"I am not going to listen about your conspiracy theory, Courf." He responded, closing his eyes, and waiting for the morning to come, so that he could get back to life.
Turns out, getting back to life was going to have to wait, as he woke up with a sore throat, a pounding head, an extremely stuffy and runny nose, and a stomach ache. Oh, and every bone in his body was aching. That was a slight problem. The stomach ache was overpowering, and nausea suddenly overtook him. He bolted out of bed, and into the bathroom, his throat convulsing, as he tried with all of his will not to vomit. There was a sudden presence beside him, and Combeferre put a cool hand on his cheek, rubbing Ennjolras' back with his other hand.
"Just let it out, Enj." Combeferre encouraged, Enjolras gagging, as yellow liquid dribbled down his chin, and he finally allowed himself to vomit. He heaved into the toilet for a few minutes, before dropping back against Combeferre. Combeferre ran his fingers through Enjolras' hair, offering him murmurs of comfort, before he procured a thermometer out of nowhere, pressing the back of his hand to Enjolras' forehead, before placing the thermometer in Enjolras' mouth.
"103.1," Combeferre read, stroking his friend's hair, "You must be feeling awful," He murmured, Enjolras giving a tiny nod, not seeing a point in hiding this, and not really wanting to either. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep.
"Enjolras, I need you to get dressed for me." Combeferre asked, Enjolras giving him a dismayed look,
"Why?" He rasped, breaking off into a sudden coughing fit. Great, that was new.
"You need to go to the doctor, get tested for flu." Combeferre explained, Enjolras shaking his head,
"No doctors…" He muttered, Combeferre giving him a sad smile,
"I'm sorry," He replied, hauling Enjolras to his feet, "You can wear my old sweatshirt," He promised, helping Enjolras back to his room. Enjolras thankfully managed to get dressed without any assistance, and walked out of his room, Combeferre pressing a cup of something into his hand,
"Apple juice, you need to stay hydrated," Combeferre urged, Enjolras taking a small sip of it. Combeferre was scribbling down a note on a sticky note for Courfeyrac.
Taking Enj to the doctor, be back soon.
The car ride to the doctors was fairly normal until around the middle, when Enjolras' throat began convulsing once more, and he tried to swallow down the vomit that had risen in his throat.
"Combeferre." He weakly said, Combeferre handing him a plastic bag, while still keeping his eyes on the road. Enjolras briefly considered Courfeyrac's theory about Combeferre being magical, but he had to draw that thought short, as he began to retch into the bag. Finally, they pulled into the parking lot of the doctor, Combeferre helping Enjolras in, sitting him down on one of the chairs in the waiting room, and going up to talk to the person at the front desk. He returned to Enjolras side.
"Are you cold?" He asked, Enjolras nodding. Combeferre took his coat off, wrapping it around Enjolras' shoulders, while Enjolras coughed weakly into his fist. Combeferre rubbed his back gently, glaring at the people who were glaring at Enjolras for coughing.
"Courfeyrac says you're magical…" Enjolras murmured, "Maybe he's right." Combeferre let out a small laugh,
"I'm not magical, my friend, just prepared." He responded, thinking for a moment, "Come over to my seat," Combeferre said, letting the shivering Enjolras curl up on his lap, and press his burning forehead to Combeferre's neck.
"Enjolras, Julien?" A nurse called after what seemed to be an excruciatingly long wait. Ultimately, they went home with a positive flu test, and strict instructions to rest. Courfeyrac gave them an enthusiastic greeting, Combeferre taking the blankets from Enjolras' room and setting them down on the couch. Enjolras lay down on the couch, closing his eyes. All he wanted was to sleep, and escape the throbbing of his head, stomach, and throat. And so, with his mouth slightly open to breath, since his nose was entirely blocked, he drifted off.
He awoke to the feeling of a thermometer in his mouth, and slowly blinked, seeing Combeferre hovering over him. Combeferre took the thermometer out of his mouth,
"103.7," Combeferre murmured. Enjolras let out a small moan, and winced at the dryness of his throat. Combeferre instantly passed him a glass of water, Enjolras drinking it slowly, relishing the cool relief it brought to his aching throat, even if it was only temporary. Enjolras blinked, his eyelids already dropping, and he felt something cool on his forehead, before he drifted back to sleep again.
"Hey, Enj." Enjolras awoke to a gentle voice. Enjolras opened his eyes slowly, seeing Combeferre above him once again, Courfeyrac beside him. Enjolras let out a small groan, longing to go back to sleep.
"I know you're tired, Enjolras, but we need you to eat and drink something," Combeferre coaxed, Enjolras looking out the windows of the living room, seeing that it was early morning.
"Okay," He murmured, "H'tauchu!" He let out a miserable sneeze. Courfeyrac rubbed his shoulder in sympathy, Combeferre passing Enjolras a cup of what looked like gatorade. Enjolras drank it slowly, hating it's taste, but also quite thirsty.
"Alright, good. Now try some applesauce." Combeferre coaxed, Enjolras taking a few bites of applesauce, while shakily holding the spoon, before pushing the bowl away.
"Very good," Combeferre praised, kissing his forehead, which was slick with sweat. Enjolras paused, making an indiscernible noise.
"What?!" Courfeyrac frowned, not understanding him. Combeferre rolled his eyes,
"He obviously wants water." He said, pouring it into a cup and tilting the cup to Enjolras lip. Enjolras drank slowly, Combeferre taking the cup away after a few minutes, as his thirst was satisfied. Enjolras then curled into the pillow that was on the couch, falling into an uneasy sleep.
"FERRE!" Enjolras screamed, shooting up on the couch. Sweat and tears trickled down his face, and shivers racked his body. Combeferre rushed into the room, Courfeyrac close behind him,
"Enjolras, what's wrong, are you alright?!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, Combeferre simply wrapping his arms around Enjolras' small frame.
"N-Nightmare." Enjolras stammered, crying into Combeferre's chest. "Everything hurts so much…" He whispered, Combeferre kissing his head,
"I know, Julien, rest will make it better." He softly replied. Enjolras gave a small yawn,
"Stay?" He begged Combeferre and Courfeyrac. Combeferre smiled, sitting down on the Couch, Courfeyrac sitting beside him, and both letting Enjolras' sprawl across their laps, as Enjolras slowly drifted back to sleep.
Enjolras opened his eyes, "Combeferre?" He murmured, wiping a hand under his running nose. Combeferre was doing something in the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, while Courfeyrac was nowhere in sight, probably at work.
"Hey," Combeferre said, pulling a thermometer out, "You feeling any better?" Enjolras nodded. He still felt horrible, but no longer felt overly cold. "101.8, that's good, Enj," Combeferre exclaimed, Enjolras giving him a small smile. Combeferre cupped his cheek,
"There's that beautiful smile I love," He murmured, going back to the kitchen. Enjolras sneezed suddenly, Combeferre giving a call of,
"Tissues to your right." Enjolras frowned, before shrugging, and blowing his nose. He winced at the pain in his throat, and he did his best not to swallow and aggravate it. Combeferre paused in the kitchen, opening the freezer, and taking out a popsicle, giving that to Enjolras. Enjolras gave him a mumble of thanks, and a delighted look. Combeferre chuckled, ruffling Enjolras blonde hair, before returning to the kitchen. He stopped whatever he was doing in there, and Enjolras leaned against the couch, the knots that had formed in his curly blonde hair immensely annoying to him. He usually did all that he could to keep his hair in top condition, which Courfeyrac laughed at him for, but hey, everyone was allowed to have one vanity, right?
"Lift up your head, Enjolras, and scoot over." Combeferre ordered, Enjolras moving to the side. Combeferre was holding a comb in his hand.
"Magical," Enjolras murmured, Combeferre just rolling his eyes, and kissing the top of Enjolras' head, before gently beginning to detangle the blonde curls using his hands.
The next day Enjolras was down to a temperature of 101.4, and was in high spirits, trying to get off of the couch the second he woke up. Courfeyrac, who was hovering nearby, pushed him back down,
"Easy there, tiger, you're still on bedrest," He said, Enjolras scowling. Courfeyrac grinned, laughing,
"And there's your famous glare, now I know that you're on the mend!" He exclaimed. Enjolras rolled his eyes, but let out a small laugh anyways. "Oh, and Grantaire's here." Courfeyrac added. Enjolras' eyes widened. Grantaire? Here? With him in this state?! Courfeyrac burst into laughter at his panic, and Enjolras would have slapped him if his arms weren't aching so much.
"It's alright, Combeferre made him promise not to tease," Courfeyrac reassured him, "You want me to call him in?" Enjolras sighed,
"Okay." He murmured, Courfeyrac going out to call Grantaire in. Grantaire gave Enjolras a wide smile, and a look that Enjolras had never seen on Grantaire's face.
"So… I heard you've been pretty sick." Grantaire said, Enjolras giving a small nod,
"Yeah, I guess," He replied softly.
"I'm so glad you're okay," Grantaire voiced, taking his hand. Enjolras frowned,
"I thought you didn't like me." He said, Grantaire sighing, and leaning forward. He gave Enjolras' forehead a small kiss, which made Enjolras' skin tingle, and his heart seem to forget that it had a regular beating pattern.
"Get well soon," Grantaire whispered, before hurrying out, leaving Enjolras very confused.
About a week later, Enjolras had almost made a full recovery, though he was still extremely congested, lethargic, and had a lingering cough. He still wasn't allowed outside the house, but he was allowed free range inside, finally. That particular morning, he was talking softly with Courfeyrac, while Combeferre was fixing breakfast in the kitchen.
"I dunno… Things just feel different when I'm around him." Enjolras whispered, Courfeyrac grinning,
"Enjy, my friend, I think you have a crush!" He exclaimed, Enjolras frowning,
"But… I can't have a crush on Grantaire!" He yelped, Courfeyrac smirking,
"Do you want to be in his company? Does he make you a better person? Does he make your heart forget it's job? Then yes, you have a crush." Courfeyrac confirmed. Enjolras blinked,
"I. Have. A. Crush…" He repeated slowly, almost unbelievingly, a small cough following the end of the sentence. Courfeyrac smiled,
"There, was that so hard?" He asked, Enjolras shrugging.
"You know your Combeferre's magical theory?" Enjolras inquired, Courfeyrac grinning,
"Mhm," He said.
"I think you're onto something," He whispered, in an over-dramatic voice. Courfeyrac burst out laughing, Enjolras letting out a few giggles, before narrowing his eyes, and sneezing into his arm.
"Bless you, tissue box's on the floor." Combeferre said, without looking up from the stove, where he was frying eggs. Courfeyrac grinned,
"Magical!" He called.
"Shut up."