"Happy birthday, dear Jehan," Les Amis sing as Grantaire carries the cake towards him, "Happy birthday to yooooou!" Jehan is blushing like mad as he brushes the few loose strands of strawberry-blond hair out of his face, leaning down to blow out the candles. Courfeyrac is capturing every moment on his new camera, taking about five photos every second, if it's possible. It makes Jehan blush even more to know that his attention was completely his, and he takes a deep breath and blows out the candles. There are only a few, because Joly and Courfeyrac agreed that having twenty-one candles and Bossuet in the same room is a recipe for disaster. It's traditional for Jehan to make a wish on his birthday, and one wish has been blessing his mind for a few years now. He wishes this as much as he can as he blows out the candles.
I wish for Courf to notice me.
Well, perhaps notice wasn't the best word. Courfeyrac is Jehan's best friend in the whole world. They do everything together – they live together, get drunk together, laugh together, cry together, even sleep together sometimes, but only when one of them is having nightmares over something stupid like the Weeping Angels or something serious like the revolution that could so easily go so horribly wrong. Jehan always feels so much safer wrapped in Courfeyrac's arms. Nothing can touch him, not even the darkness. Courfeyrac is pure radiance and the darkness knows better than to even attempt that battle. And in the morning, Jehan wakes up before Courfeyrac to find them in a tangle of limbs. He pretends to be asleep so that Courfeyrac will make him a hot chocolate just the way he likes it, and wake him up with a kiss to the forehead and a "good morning, mon petit". His. Jehan longs to be his. He longs to kiss those tantalisingly Courfish lips, and Courfeyrac secretly longs to kiss those beautifully-carved red lips back. They would taste like chocolate and sweetness and peppermint, because this is Jehan and he always smells like peppermint, so in Courfeyrac's logic he must taste like it too.
Maybe, just maybe, Jehan might get away with pressing a quick kiss to those lips, because he's Jehan and he does that anyway, but he can't quite do it… and another opportunity is wasted, and Jehan can't waste opportunities forever.
Jehan has been getting presents throughout the night. Courfeyrac is stood looking nervous, twiddling his thumbs, and Jehan doesn't understand why. He offers his bestie a huge grin, making Courfeyrac blush slightly, a rare occurrence.
Joly and Bossuet have got Jehan a calligraphy set he has been admiring in the shop window for months now, and he thanks them both with a kiss on the cheek. He loves all his presents, and they are all his favourite and unique in their own way.
When Jehan goes to talk to Courfeyrac, his friend is bright red, so Jehan takes him to the corner and sits him down. He gives him a fizzy Ribena, which shakes in his hands, making Jehan even more worried.
"What's wrong, Courf?"
"It… it's nothing," he promises, although he is clearly lying.
"Courf, you're almost as bad a liar as I am," Jehan teases him, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles gently. "Now, really – what's wrong?"
"It… it's your present," he begins, sighing and looking at their hands. Jehan intertwines their fingers. "Well, you know I just got made redundant? Well, I don't have much money, so I thought I'd get you something that I didn't have to buy. Well, at least, that's what they say. Money doesn't buy love." Jehan is completely stunned for a moment, and Courfeyrac feels like an idiot because he must have said something wrong, but then Jehan pulls him in for a gentle kiss. When they break apart, the room is in applause and Courfeyrac is in a slight daze. "You really do taste like peppermint…"