Work Text:
“You know, this is actually a really nice place.” Enjolras said once they had managed to get all of Combeferre’s boxes unloaded from Feuilly’s pick-up truck. Which wasn’t as easy as it could have been, considering 75% of Combeferre’s possessions were books. That and the fact that after every twenty minutes of actual work Joly and Enjolras descended into a spiral of petulance which ended with them taking a thirty minute break on the stairs while Combeferre and Feuilly actually did the work.
“A lot better than the first place I got on my own.” Feuilly offered, which some would construe as self-deprecation, but the boy really was just genuinely happy for his friend. Feuilly was a few years older than Combeferre, Enjolras, and Joly, who had just graduated from college and were finally out on their own.
“Yeah, I’m pretty excited about the whole deal.” Combeferre couldn’t help but grin as he collapsed down on the sofa, which wasn’t yet where he wanted it and was surrounded by unopened boxes, but still managed to make him feel at home the second he sunk into the cushions. “It’s closer to work, it’s not too big, the rent isn’t bad at all, really, considering we live in the city… it’s all really exci-” Combeferre’s words were cut-off by a knocking on the door, which Joly jumped up to see who it was. He swung the door open to two of the cutest human beings that Combeferre had ever seen, smiling widely and holding cupcakes for god’s sake. They introduced themselves as neighbors and Combeferre jumped up off the couch, his muscles screaming in exhaustion, and went over to introduce himself. Having a bad relationship with your neighbors was literally the worst (ask Enjolras) and Combeferre was not going to let that happen.
“No, it’s actually Combeferre who lives here.” Joly said politely when the two of them, Jehan and Cosette, asked.
“Hello! Pleasure to meet you both.” Combeferre insisted, offering his hand out to the both of them, surprised by the intensity of the grip of the boy. As aforementioned, both of them were painfully adorable and they were equally eccentric. The girl, Cosette, was wearing a tight black V-neck and an electric blue flowery gypsy skirt that fell to her ankles and matched in color the tips of her bleach blonde hair. She paired that was about fifty bracelets clanging on her wrists and black Grecian-style sandals. Combeferre was impressed. And then there was Jehan, whose outfit… let’s just say that if Combeferre could pick one thing for the archaeologists centuries in the future to uncover of our society after we’ve fallen and something else has risen above us, it would be this outfit, just to fuck with those scientist’s minds. The boy was wearing dark purple leggings with gold filigree at the ankles and knees, a giant black poncho with an alarmingly large skull in the middle, and he had his mint green hair in a simple plait down over his shoulder. To top that off he was barefoot and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.
“Oh, you’re Combeferre?” Cosette asked as Combeferre gestured for them to come in.
“Yeah, that’s me. Sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time to unpack… anything.” He admitted with an awkward laugh, but the two guests just smiled. Cosette moved to the kitchen to put the cupcakes in the fridge and Jehan jumped up to sit on the counter, bringing his knees up to his chest. Joly eyes his bare feet warily as he moved to sit next to Enjolras, relatively underneath the boy.
“So what brings you to the neighborhood?” Cosette asked, perching on the couch next to Combeferre. Combeferre told the two of them about his new internship at the hospital close to the building and conversation went on pretty easily from there, Combeferre positive that both sides were equally charmed by their new neighbors.
“What are you doing?” Jehan asked, sounding thoroughly amused, about twenty minutes into their visit. Combeferre looked back over to see what the problem was and saw Jehan staring down at a stricken Joly who had somehow produced an anti-bacterial wipe and was trying to discreetly clean Jehan’s bare feet. Joly whimpered a little at the attention and then sat up straighter.
“Do you how many germs there are all over floors? Not to mention the risk of stepping on something ungainly and risking infection, and-”
“Joly!” Combeferre interrupted, “Don’t lecture the guests.” Joly blushed but still forced the wipe into Jehan’s hands, who accepted it with a genuine smile. Both Cosette and Jehan smiled as Feuilly put an arm around Joly, comforting the boy who just rolled his eyes and pouted a little bit.
“Sorry for caring about your health more than societal expectations.” Joly muttered for what wasn’t the first time in Combeferre and his relationship.
“Well, this was nice,” Cosette mused, “But we really should get going.” She stood and smoothed out her skirt before looking pointedly at Joly and then Jehan before sighing loudly and moving over to allow Jehan to gracefully climb on her back in a piggy-back ride.
“To save my feet.” Jehan said to Joly, blowing a kiss goodbye before the two of the loped out the door together.
“You have weird neighbors.” Enjolras muttered from where he had been laying on the couch, probably pretending to be asleep.
“Yeah,” Combeferre admitted, “But I think it’s all going to work out well.”
###
Combeferre was really only 40% listening to Enjolras as he balanced the phone precariously on his shoulder and tried to find his keys in his bag at the same time. Just as he was about to give up and fall asleep on his door, he breathed a sigh of relief when he finally found them and let himself in.
“Mmhmm, yeah Enjolras, I totally agree.” Combeferre mumbled before covering the mouthpiece to yawn dramatically before collapsing on his couch, almost soothed by Enjolras’ constant chatter. When he wasn’t yelling to a crowd of rowdy protesters, Enjolras had a rather pleasant tenor voice that one wouldn’t expect. He was just about to legitimately doze off when he heard a jarring bang resonate in his living room. He shot up in his seat, thoroughly alarmed, and looked around to see if something had fallen over or something. No signs of that and moments later the banging continued, and with it came an increasingly loud noise that even in his sleep-deprived state Combeferre could place.
The tenant below him was having sex.
Really, really loud sex.
“Fuck.” Combeferre said out loud, groaning into a pillow. He took a moment to pray to whatever god was listening that this guy had horrible stamina and was done within the hour.
“Is something wrong, Ferre?” Enjolras asked, seemingly alarmed by the first interjection Combeferre had actually had since the conversation started.
“Yes.” Combeferre said angrily, “The apartment below mine is currently housing two people having sex. Loudly. Like oh my god, Enjolras, who has vocal chords capable of sex this loud?” Enjolras tried not to laugh and told him to go to bed and hope he couldn’t hear it from there. Combeferre agreed and hung up before stalking off to his room, probably walking a little louder than usual out of spite, before collapsing into bed.
He could still hear it.
He grabbed his pillow and wrapped it to cover his ears before trying to fall asleep to the orchestrations of coitus, telling himself that he worked a lot of nights and this guy couldn’t have sex every day of the week so it was just unlucky that it happened tonight. He would be okay...
###
Enjolras stopped dramatically at the top step of the staircase and stared up at Combeferre as he started to unlock his door.
“Are you going to come inside or just stare at me like I murdered your first-born or something?” Combeferre asked with a twinge or amusement and petulance. Enjolras glared at him as he walked towards the apartment, immediately moving into the kitchen and grabbing a sparkling water from the fridge (which Combeferre would never tell him, but he only kept them in the apartment for Enjolras because, come on, how pretentious is sparkling water? But Ferre kept that to himself, otherwise Enjolras would deny himself something which he enjoyed simply for his commitment to not act too bourgeoisie).
“Are you going to apologize now?” Enjolras asked after collapsing on the couch, propping his now bare feet up on the coffee table. Ferre just shook his head and smiled before sitting next to him.
“No. Enj, I really think the Narnia series is my favorite children’s book. It has a multitude of positive lessons couple with a variety of representation and an encouragement towards imagination and the belief that there’s something that makes all of us special. Just like the Pevensies were normal and Polly and Digory were completely ordinary but were influential nonetheless-”
“But Combeferre, it’s an encouragement of the monarchy!”
“No. I don’t believe it is,” Combeferre managed to stay cool even when Enjolras was steadily growing more annoyed, as most of their arguments went (not that it gave either of them an advantage… Enjolras was at his best passionate and Combeferre was at his best collected), “Because we see how poisonous monarchy can be when the person in charge abuses their power, i.e. the White Witch in The Magician’s Nephew and The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the Telmarines in Prince Caspian and The Horse and His Boy, they abuse their subjects and strive only for their own personal power, yes, but then the Pevensies show us that it can work because there can be good people in charge. But the system is still proven faulty, if anything making them a part of a monarchy and able to thrive is a further positive outlook on the Pevensies. They can’t even be corrupted by an institution designed to corrupt. Or you could say they are the exception that proves the rule. I don’t think it encourages monarchy. I think you’re looking at the book and focusing on things you shouldn’t be-”
“And you’re ignoring crucial bits!” Enjolras argued, the passion that made him so intoxicating permeating his speech, making Combeferre smile widely at his best friend; Enjolras really was at some of his best in an argument, “Look at the entire reign of The White Witch! The whole prophecy of the Kings and Queens that would come to save them, the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve, that was the promise of a flawless monarchy coming to their rescue! And that promise is exactly what kept them docile for years! A century! Had they stopped putting all their faith in an, as you put it, ‘institution designed to be corrupt’ then they could have rallied together years ago and revolted themselves, without the oppression of a monarch, or four-”
“Uggggghh, yes! Yes! Ugh, harder!” Combeferre groaned in exasperation and Enjolras’ face went adorably confused as his speech was cut off by an obnoxiously crude scream.
“What the fuck?” Enjolras looked down at the ground, following the now constant stream of noise. His face flushed red as the dialogue got increasingly more desperate and the rocking noise got louder and louder.
“Jesus Christ,” Combeferre muttered, “I really thought that was just going to be a one-time thing. I’d honestly forgotten about it. It’s been like two weeks since I’ve been here when he…”
“You know it’s a guy?”
“Well, I assume. Last time it sounded vaguely like two guys and now it sounds like a guy and a girl. God, I hate that I can tell. I never wanted to be this informed about sex noises of other people, but man this fucker can go all night.” Combeferre complained before flopping down onto his pillow dramatically. Enjolras stared at him for a few moments longer before standing up and walking to the door.
“Right, I’m going to talk to this bastard.” Enjolras announced. Combeferre scrambled up to protest but grimaced instead when the guy beneath them let out a stream of profanities.
“Okay, but don’t be too mean… I don’t wanna be that guy.” Combeferre tried. Enjolras just rolled his eyes and moved out and down the stairs. Combeferre contemplated that the chances of Enjolras making someone cry was about 85%, but he had to take that risk. He really wanted the sex noise to stop.
Enjolras wasn’t planning on making anyone cry. He never planned to do that… he just got a little carried away sometimes. He felt oddly like one of those times was coming up quickly when he rapped on the door to the apartment directly below Combeferre’s and waited patiently to bitch someone out for ruining a perfectly good constructive argument with his best friend.
The door swung open a minute later and the unsuspecting person’s smile quickly vanished at the sight of Enjolras’ irritated countenance.
“Um, can I help you?” she asked. Enjolras had to fight not to scoff, because really, what’s the point of social conventions when you’ve already abandoned any semblance of decency, considering the woman was currently half-naked, in only a large t-shirt that was very cliché and only barely covered her, and two minutes ago was screaming her pleasure across the building.
“Yes. You could put some clothes on and try to have some respect for the people around you.” Enjolras scolded. The woman started, looking slightly offended and considerably scared.
“Oh… I’m sorry… Wait, who are you?” she asked. Well, at least she was trying to stand up for herself. Enjolras just rolled his eyes.
“I’m the person who has unfortunately decided he needs to have his ears cut off because he had to hear the obnoxious sex noises of the horribly disrespectful couple who lives in this apartment.” The woman just gaped at him so Enjolras sighed, realizing he was getting nowhere with this girl. “Are you going to say something or are you just going to stare at me blankly? Come on, I know for a fact you aren’t mute.”
“Andy, is something wrong?” a voice called from farther in the apartment and the girl looked between Enjolras and the voice with wide blue eyes before caving and grabbing her jeans off the back of the couch and putting them on quickly before grabbing her bag and running out of the apartment and past Enjolras quickly.
“Whoa, where are you going?” the voice called out again. Enjolras was about to walk away smugly, reassured that the sex was over for today, but this time the voice was accompanied by a man emerging from his bedroom. However, while it hadn’t been too much of a shock for Enjolras to see the girl open the door, she had at least worn some clothes, this man was actually completely naked.
“What the fuck?” Enjolras yelled, “Put some clothes on!” the man squeaked and hid behind a wall, so that he could stare at Enjolras with only his head peeking out.
“Who are you? Did you scare off Andy?”
“Yes! … Well, no, I just…”
“That’s not cool, man!” the naked guy scolded. Enjolras was thoroughly caught off guard because who the fuck did this guy think he was? It was supposed to be Enjolras scolding, not Enjolras being scolded. He wasn’t the one who was in the wrong here. “You can’t just come in here out of nowhere, come into my house all sexy and blonde and just cock-block whoever you want! There are rules for that kind of shit! Probably…” Enjolras just stared at the man in what was probably came across as disgust but was equal parts wonderment.
“Whoa… that’s an impressive glare you got there.” The man said, looking increasingly intrigued, “It’s kind of hot. I’m Courfeyrac, by the way. Do you wanna-”
“Put some fucking clothes on.” Enjolras snapped, not even going to allow this asshole to finish that sentence. The man just nodded and disappeared around the corner to return a few moments later, adorned with a huge plush purple robe.
“So, what can I do for you, sir?” Courfeyrac said, annoyingly happy.
“You can start by apologizing.” He growled, making Courfeyrac scrunch up his face in confusion.
“For what?”
“For being a horrible neighbor!”
“Hey! I am a great neighbor!”
“Oh, yeah, if great neighbors have sex loud enough to shake the goddamn walls!” Enjolras shouted. Courfeyrac stared for a moment and then giggled.
“Shit, you heard that?” Courfeyrac asked laughingly. Enjolras continued to glare.
“You think this is funny?”
“… I do.”
“You think it’s funny that you’re bothering people around you, people who are in their homes? You’re violating a sense of privacy that is supposed to be implicit in the sanctuary of one’s house! God, how disrespectful are you? You could at least have pretended to be sorry! But no instead you run out here half naked, trying to proposition the man standing at your door, no matter how uncomfortable that might make someone-” Enjolras’ voice had been rising steadily so he was definitely yelling at this point in his rant, so he really shouldn’t have been too surprised that the people around them might come out to see what was wrong. Well, only one person did in this case.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s with all the yelling?” asked a scratchy voice. Enjolras whirled around, turning away from Courf’s shocked expression to see who had interrupted him. Enjolras’ knew he was gaping as he stared, but he couldn’t help it because man Combeferre had the weirdest neighbors. The man was a little bit shorter than Enjolras, with wild black curls and wide blue eyes. Enjolras also got full view of the tattoos winding up his sculpted biceps as he was wearing only a pair of ill-fitting black jeans. He also had a toothbrush in his mouth, was holding a paintbrush in his hand and behind his ear and a Webster’s dictionary clutched his hand in what Enjolras assumed was for… protection? Enjolras didn’t say anything right away, content to just stare at the man until he went away, but the intruder wasn’t budging (not that he could really be called an intruder… since they were in a hallway, but he intruded on the conversation, so…)
“Hey, Grantaire. This guy was just, um, yelling at me for... something along the lines of me being a loud prick.” Courfeyrac explained. Enjolras groaned at the understatement.
“Way to diminish every point I made… Prick.” Enjolras said to Courfeyrac, making Grantaire laugh loudly.
“It was a pretty impressive speech… did you prepare that?” Courfeyrac asked. Enjolras just shrugged.
“No. I just said what I was feeling… How did you not hear him?” Enjolras asked Grantaire, “You live right next to him.” Grantaire just shrugged.
“I was listening to music. So, can I hear it? The speech? The one you yelled at Courf?” Grantaire asked, looking like he as having just a great time. Enjolras scowled at him, completely not fighting the feeling to get lost in those stupid blue eyes.
“It doesn’t work like that.” Enjolras snapped. Grantaire just nodded and leaned against his doorframe.
“I guess I’ll just have to find a way to piss you off, get my own personalized rant.” Grantaire mused and when Enjolras looked over at Courfeyrac the man was smiling as well, albeit less deviously. Suddenly feeling double-teamed, Enjolras rolled his eyes and turned around, aiming to march up the stairs angrily as his job here was more or less done.
“I wasn’t kidding, Apollo!” he heard Grantaire calling after him, “I will get you to scream my name! In whatever context!” Enjolras did not flush red as he stormed up the stairs, he did not.
“Thanks for making it stop, Enj.” Combeferre said gratefully, smiling infectiously at him once Enjolras had collapsed next to him on the couch.
“My pleasure.” And Enjolras did not spend the rest of the night thinking of black curls and tattoos and provoking words. No he did not.
###
A couple days after the Enjolras-yelling-at-the-sex-man thing, Combeferre was just getting back to the apartment at about noon after a particularly long shift. He was desperate to get out of his scrubs and to take nap for about ten years. He had stopped in the lobby of his building to pick up his mail when he felt a tap to his shoulder.
“Hello, stranger!” Combeferre turned around quickly to see Jehan behind him, smiling widely.
“Hey Jehan!” Combeferre greeted, pulling the smaller man in for a hug. It had been a couple weeks since they had been able to talk, since Combeferre had been working a lot. When he pulled back from the hug he realized that Jehan wasn’t alone. Combeferre turned to the stranger and held out his hand.
“Hi, I’m Combeferre.”
“Courfeyrac.” The man said as he shook Ferre’s hand.
“Oh, yes! Sorry! Courfeyrac, this is the new neighbor I told you about.” Jehan said amicably. Combeferre smiled as Courfeyrac nodded and he tried not to stare. The man was gorgeous.
“Hey, is that… Turkish?” Combeferre asked, pointing to the tattoo that Courfeyrac had up his right forearm. The man smiled, looking delighted.
“Yes! Do you speak it?” Combeferre shook his head.
“Not really. I’ve learned the basics, but I’m really nothing special at it.” Courfeyrac nodded his understanding, never taking his eyes off Combeferre’s. It was a little unnerving, especially coupled with the way Jehan was looking between them like he was watching a movie.
“My dad is fluent, so I know it pretty well.”
“Were you born there?” Jehan asked. Courfeyrac shook his head.
“Nah, born in Greece, where my mom is from. Don’t speak a lick of Greek, though, sorry.” Courf explained when he saw Combeferre’s hopeful look. He had always wanted to learn Greek. It got quiet for a moment as the three of them stared at each other.
“Well, enough about Courfeyrac! Who wants to come to my place and try the new orchid vanilla tea I just bought?” Jehan saved Combeferre from a potentially embarrassing social situation wherein inner Combeferre realized there was no more conversation, but real Combeferre continued to stare at Courfeyrac’s unnaturally long eyelashes.
They entered Jehan’s apartment and Jehan went immediately for the kitchen to fill the kettle. Combeferre felt a bit more himself now, and instead of staring awkwardly at Courfeyrac he made to sit on the burgundy cracked-leather sofa, moving a total of four afghans and one quilt to the back of the couch in the process.
“So Combeferre,” Courfeyrac smiled from the couch cushion right next to him, much to Combeferre’s surprise. Not discomfort, just surprise. “Tell me, what do you do for a living?”
Ferre laughed, pulling at his scrubs uncomfortably.
“Yeah, I just got off a shift at the hospital. But I’m only an intern, not a doctor yet, so please, keep your fawning to a minimum.”
“Oh, my fawning?” Courfeyrac’s arm swung up to the back of the couch as he turned to face Combeferre more directly. “You assume I’ll fawn over you? Aren’t we confident? What just because you’re tall, and you’ve got great eyes, and you’re a doctor? Oh, sorry, and intern. Am I to be so easily swayed?”
“In my experience, people tend to latch onto the ‘doctor’ title. Once they hear it, they either want free medical attention, or they find me irresistible all of a sudden, presumably for all the millions they assume I’ve amassed helping… blind children in Africa, maybe? Either way, they forget that I’m a person. And that I need things like sleep and normal human interactions once in a while.”
Combeferre stretched his arms over his head, suddenly feeling another wave of exhaustion coming over him. He pulled one hand back to lazily cover a yawn and thought he caught Courfeyrac staring at a bit of his briefly exposed hip bone before trying to look away casually and grabbing one of the multitude of newspapers that were stacked underneath a very antique-looking coffee table.
“Well,” Courfeyrac interjected, “no worries about that here. I already have an excellent doctor who would quite frankly be nothing less than insulted if I did not go to him for advice.”
“We shouldn’t go around risking that relationship.”
“No, it is very important to me.” Courfeyrac said, not looking over at Combeferre but smirking as he obviously pretended to read the article in front of him. Jehan walked over a few minutes later, smiling widely and raising his eyebrows suggestively at Ferre, who pretended not to notice.
“So wait, Courfeyrac, where do you live in the building?” Combeferre asked as he sipped the tea, despite knowing that he really hated tea.
“Oh I live in 8A.” Courfeyrac answered with a smile. Combeferre choked on his tea as he realized-
Courfeyrac was the sex-man.
“Oh. Oh, um. Wow, I really should be going. Good tea, Jehan, but I am exhausted. Really need a nap. Um… you know, the crazy hours of an intern. Every Thursday night I have to work the evening and then into the next morning. I don’t get home until noon, so I haven’t slept in a very long time… so, yeah.” Combeferre rambled as he made his way to the door. Courfeyrac looked up at him in surprise and what also seemed like disappointment, and Jehan stood up to try to get him to stay. Still, he insisted and made his way out rather quickly. Much too quickly, he knew, but there was no way he would be able to get through a conversation with the man now that he knew his was the face to the moans.
###
Combeferre had managed to slow his mind and get a few hours of sleep before there was a rhythmic knocking on his door. He groaned and almost ignored it, but whoever it was was a persistent little fucker, so Combeferre forced himself out of bed to stumble towards the front door.
“Jehan.” Combeferre mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t put his contacts back in but he still managed to figure out it was Jehan. Even if he didn’t have literal mint green hair, the electric orange t-shirt and forest green skinny jeans gave it away.
“Combeferre! Sorry! I woke you! I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t worry about it. Come on in.” Combeferre stood to the side to let his neighbor in, who immediately sat crisscross on the couch and patted the cushion next to him, beckoning the sluggish Combeferre to follow.
“Talk to Jehan.” He soothed and Combeferre wanted to glare questioningly, but for some reason it didn’t seem weird when Jehan said it.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh come on. You know what! Why did you run out on me this afternoon?” Combeferre just grumbled in response. He was a horrible morning person… even if it wasn’t quite morning, but whatever. It was the same thing. He wasn’t a waking up person. “Oh, right. Sorry, why did you run away from Courf this morning?” Combeferre did glare at this and sat up straight now, instead of leaning is head on Jehan’s shoulder.
“I did not run away from anything.” Combeferre argued. Jehan just raised an eyebrow at him and smiled a little. “Oh, fucking fine. I did run away! But you’re gonna laugh at me if I tell you why and it is too early to be laughed at in such a context.” Combeferre declared before laying his head back down on Jehan’s shoulder in an attempt at finality.
“I’m not going to laugh at you!”
“You’re already giggling!”
“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! I won’t laugh, I promise!” Jehan assured. He did manage to get his laughter under control and he moved Combeferre so they were looking each other in the eye. Combeferre groaned.
“Fine! So, um how good of friends are you with Courfeyrac?” Combeferre asked warily.
“Um, we’re pretty close. Why?”
“Did you know he had a lot of sex?” Jehan let out a short burst of laughter before covering his mouth.
“I know he gets around, yes. Again, why?”
“Well he isn’t exactly quiet.” Combeferre deadpanned. Jehan’s eyes widened and he looked down at the floor as if it would start producing moans any second and Combeferre nodded. “Yes, I hear Courfeyrac having sex. A lot.”
“Ohmigod!” Jehan squeaked. Combeferre could tell he was trying not to laugh as he kept biting his lip and his face got redder and redder.
“Go ahead.” Combeferre sighed and Jehan burst out in laughter. Combeferre just sat there, splayed out on the couch, waiting for Jehan to calm down.
“Holy fuck! Holy fuck that is amazing! That’s amazing! I love it…” Jehan sighed as he wiped a tear away from his eye and then quickly regained composure when he noticed Combeferre’s very done expression. “Sorry, um sorry. So he said where he lived, you made the connection, and then freaked out?” Combeferre nodded reluctantly.
“How am I the only one who hears him? It’s like he’s moaning into a goddamn megaphone.” Jehan barked out another laugh and then shook his head.
“Grantaire used to complain about it, but he just started listening to music and getting drunk to tune it out. Also, I know from experience that I can hear practically everything the apartment below me does, because of the way the vents work or something? Lucky for me, I’ve never been in this situation.” Combeferre groaned again when Jehan started giggling once more. “I’m sorry, I really am. If it would help any, I can try to talk to him about it.”
“Would you?” Combeferre asked hopefully and Jehan nodded, definitive.
“Of course. And don’t worry, he’ll listen to me… and if he doesn’t, I’ll set Cosette on him.”
“So… you and Courf aren’t…” Combeferre made a weird gesture with his hands that somehow Jehan understand. He laughed and shook his head.
“Oh no. No, I’m actually asexual. Asexual and Lithromantic.” He said happily. Combeferre smiled at him but the smile changed when Jehan’s shifted to something more devious. “Why do you ask?” Combeferre blushed.
“Oh no reason. I mostly just didn’t want to have to hear the two of you having sex. That would make this friendship really awkward.” Jehan laughed and nodded, obviously not believing it, but staying quiet just the same.
He stayed over for a little while longer, the two of them watching whatever was on TV and after a couple episodes of Friends he felt himself drifting off, only maybe thinking about how unfair it was that sex-man had to be so cute.
###
“Jehan, thank God you’re here!” Courfeyrac yelled as Jehan and Grantaire stormed into his apartment, “I can’t stop thinking about the hot neighbor! Did you talk to him? Why’d he leave me?”
“Because you’re fucking too loud for him.” Grantaire said, being very unhelpful. Courf looked to Jehan for help but the poet just nodded.
“What? Was I talking too loud or-”
“No, you were fucking too loud.” Jehan interrupted. “Like literally. He lives in the apartment above you and apparently you have sex way too loud. So stop that.”
“Invest in a ball gag.” Grantaire suggested. Seriously. The epitome of unhelpful over there.
“What? No, I thought Apollo lived above me, that hot blonde guy, remember R? The mean one who yelled at me!” Courfeyrac argued and Grantaire nodded fervently.
“I definitely remember. The man was a goddamn work of art.” Grantaire mumbled. Jehan looked to be thinking for a moment and then smiled.
“Long blonde hair? Really blue eyes? An ass that will restore your faith in God?”
“Yes!” both of them replied immediately.
“Yeah, that was Enjolras. Combeferre lives there, Enjo is just his best friend.” Jehan explained.
“Oh my God, how pretentious. Enjolras.” Grantaire teased, a faraway look in his eyes. God, his crush was so obvious.
“Your name is Grantaire.” Courfeyrac teased back through a mouthful of cereal (he really didn’t feel like actual cooking and seeing Combeferre all tired made him all tired which made him want breakfast food).
“Shut up.”
“So wait, Combeferre could hear me having sex? And he has sent two delegates to me to get me to stop instead of just coming down by himself?” Courfeyrac mused and Jehan shrugged.
“I guess he’s a little embarrassed.”
“Why would he be embarrassed? Hmmmmm, why would hot new neighbor be uncomfortable talking about sex with me?” Courfeyrac mused while Jehan rolled his eyes and Grantaire grabbed the mostly empty box of Captain Crunch and poured it directly into his mouth.
“Maybe because you’re virtually a complete stranger but he already knows just how rough you like it?” Jehan replied dryly.
Courfeyrac ignored Jehan, seemingly lost in thought.
“Unless,” Courf continued, “unless he’s already thought about sex with me…in an embarrassing capacity…hearing me satisfy everyone else in my life so thoroughly has made me an object of desire to Combeferre…he wants to see what all the fuss is about…but he was intimidated by my charming personality and rocking body…that’s adorable.”
“Courf, I really don’t think that’s what this is,” Jehan began, weighing the pros and cons of letting whatever Courf was cooking up play out.
“Well I’ll just have to make him more comfortable,” Courf clapped his hands determinedly.
“Great,” Grantaire looked at Courfeyrac, “so you’ll keep it down?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“My dear sweet Grantaire, my enchanting Jehan,” Courfeyrac smiled patiently, “the whole reason Combeferre feels uncomfortable around me is because my sex is so hot that even before he saw my face, he felt a certain…indescribable attraction to me. So, logically, the only way to get him to be comfortable approaching me is to further entice him with the promise of amazing sex.”
“So you’re going to continue to use your feminine wiles on him?” Jehan asked, shaking his head in quiet disappointment tinged with intrigue.
“Yup! Until he literally can’t stay away!” Courfeyrac announced. Grantaire and Jehan just stared. “What? I can’t see anything going wrong with this plan, ever.” Courfeyrac wasn’t listening at all when Grantaire proceeded make a very long list of exactly what could go wrong.
###
“No! NO!” Combeferre yelled to his empty apartment. He was just about to drift off. He was just about to slip into that perfect oblivion of unconsciousness. He was exhausted, having taken an extra shift for a friend of his at work, so he only got home at 2pm, twenty hours after he starts his first shift. And now Courfeyrac decides to have sex. Well, so much for Jehan stopping it. That didn’t even work for two days. Combeferre tried to roll over and ignore it, even contemplated going to get headphones, but no. No that was exactly what Courfeyrac wanted. He wouldn’t cave to his disgusting whims.
“Who has sex at two in the afternoon?” Combeferre screamed at his living room floor and it may have been the sleep deprivation but he swore he heard the bastard chuckle in response. “Holy fuck, he’s doing this on purpose.” Combeferre muttered to himself before feeling a rush of irritation rush through him. He growled and stomped on the floor loudly, three times in succession. He listened for the response and a few seconds later heard Courfeyrac moan three times in succession, echoing Combeferre.
Which was not hot at all.
“Fucking bastard!” Combeferre complained stomping once more, petulantly, and then having to listen to another one of Courfeyrac’s very purposeful moans echoing it. Grabbing his leather jacket and bag, he stormed out the door, completely planning on ignoring the bastard and going to sleep at Enjolras’ forever. As he was walking through his floor though, to get to the staircase, he saw Grantaire on his way out of his apartment, locking the door behind him. Combeferre had only talked to him a few times, but he was nice enough, if a little brash. Grantaire heard him walking- no, stomping- and looked up. Combeferre nodded and Grantaire smiled awkwardly, looking over at Courfeyrac’s door and rolling his eyes in exasperation.
This surprisingly gave Combeferre some well-needed courage. Right, if Courfeyrac wanted a war, he would get a war. Combeferre walked over to his door and banged his fist against it hard. He looked back at Grantaire and smiled easily at his confused look.
A few moments later, Courfeyrac swung the door open, scantily clad with an equally scantily clad man draped across his back.
“Combeferre.” Courfeyrac said, annoyingly formal and Combeferre really wanted to punch that smug look off of his face. Or maybe slap it... no, Courf would probably get off on that… oh fuck, this is not something to be think about right now.
“Hey Courf, it’s just your neighbor reminding you to take your daily dose of azithromycin, and make sure to tell me if that doesn’t work and I’ll get you that prescription for ceftriaxone, no problem.” He was about to walk away but Grantaire looked at him like he didn’t understand so he stayed in between the three men for another moment, remembering that not everyone knows what all the drugs do, “You know. For the gonorrhea.” He stage whispered. Kudos to Grantaire, because the boy didn’t crack, just pressed his lips together and widened his eyes. Combeferre saw Courfeyrac’s glare and the guy he was with start to freak out and back away to grab his clothes, but Ferre didn’t stay much longer than that. He skipped down the stairs triumphantly, followed closely by Grantaire who started laughing infectiously the second they hit the pavement outside.
“Holy shit! That was amazing! Damn, Combeferre! Did you see that guy’s face?” Grantaire managed to snort out between fits of laughter. “Oh, I like you.” Combeferre just smiled and laughed a little as well.
“So where are you headed?” Combeferre asked when the two of them started walking together.
“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I was just gonna try to find somewhere to sketch, just to get out of the house for a little while.” Grantaire explained.
“Oh, you draw?”
“Yeah, I’m an artist. That’s my job, somehow.” Well, that explained the paint stains that were always on him.
“You can stick with me. I was just going to go hang out at my friend’s house and he has a killer view. Might be something worth replicating artistically. Not that I have any artistic incli-”
“Which friend?” Grantaire asked suddenly, cutting Combeferre off.
“Um, his name is Enjolras.” Combeferre answered skeptically. He was just about to give a warning about how intense Enj could get sometimes, but was distracted by the way Grantaire’s face lit up, despite him shifting his gaze to his feet so Ferre wouldn’t notice.
“I could go with you. That’s sounds alright.” Grantaire answered. It was obvious he was feigning nonchalance, but whatever it was, Combeferre really didn’t think it was any of his business, so he just walked along, making idle chit-chat with Grantaire and reveling in his victory over Courfeyrac.
###
The next time Combeferre heard the beginnings of Courfeyrac’s sexual escapades, he was more or less prepared. He’d come up with a few game plans for if the sex-maniac kept this little torment attempt up, and now was the chance to see what would work. He was lying in bed and it was about… one in the morning when it started. Combeferre wasn’t quite asleep yet so it was easy to hop out of bed at the first sign of trouble and grab a speaker off the wall.
He shifted it to rest over the vent in the floor, since Jehan had mentioned something about the vents being the reason the noise travelled so easily. I didn’t know if that was true, but it was a better bet than just holding the speaker face down to the floor and hoping it worked.
Once the speaker was in place he grabbed his laptop out of his bag, plugged in the necessary cords and then chose a very specific song out of his library. He could hear the music pretty well, but it wasn’t so loud that he would bother Cosette and Jehan. It was perfect.
Aaaand… not even two minutes later the sex noises were over and a very satisfied Combeferre went to bed very happy.
He was getting good at this.
###
Damn, his hot neighbor was good at this.
“What the fuck?” Courfeyrac had practically had to yell over the music that was suddenly filling his apartment. It wasn’t particularly sexy music either. Like, no one could get off to this shit. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who felt this way as he felt Janine still beneath him.
“Is that… Mozart’s Requiem in D Minor?” she asked in relative disgust. Courfeyrac looked down at her, surprised.
“How the fuck do you know that?”
“I’m a music major, you prick. Make it stop! I can’t have sex to funeral music!” Janine snapped and Courfeyrac rolled off of her and flopped down onto the bed.
“I can’t.” Courfeyrac stated. He really couldn’t. If he went up there now and asked Combeferre to stop the music that would be admitting defeat and nooo way was he going to do that.
“Why not?” Janine asked. She stared at him, looking very annoyed. “That’s the only way we’re having sex.” Courfeyrac groaned.
“It’s a long story.”
“Well, baby, we’ve got all night.” She said as she pulled her big brown curls into a ponytail. Man, she was gorgeous, all pale skin and dark eyes and red lips. Courf sighed dramatically.
“The two of us are sort of in this war… in which I have sex really loud to annoy him and he does whatever he can to stop it. He lives in the apartment right above me and he’s really good at this!” Janine stared at him for a long moment.
“So what do you want me to do here? Have sex as loud as we can, so loudly in fact that your neighbor can’t sleep?” Courfeyrac smiled at that idea and nodded enthusiastically. Janine just laughed and hopped out of bed, getting dressed quickly and sauntering out of Courfeyrac’s room.
“Yeah, that seems about right.” Courfeyrac grumbled.
“Oh, and by the way, this requiem is fifty-five minutes long.” Janine said with a wink before slamming the door to his apartment shut behind her.
“Fuck.”
###
“So you’re positive you’re okay with doing this just to fuck with my neighbor?” Courfeyrac asked as he led Lacey down the hall and to his room. The girl nodded and shrugged before leaning in to trace her tongue along the shell of Courfeyrac’s ear.
“I can be loud.” She whispered seductively and Courfeyrac grinned.
“Perfect.”
###
Combeferre was hoping the Mozart’s Requiem thing would keep working, hoped that it could be his go-to plan for the rest of the time he was living in the building. But of course fucking not, because that would involve living in a world where good things happen to him.
So literally the next day, when Courfeyrac brought another girl home, Combeferre’s clever plan didn’t work because Courfeyrac and his hook-up just kept getting louder and louder and louder. Combeferre would turn the computer up another five notches, Courf would turn the sex up another ten.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Combeferre whispered to the floor. In a moment of desperation he turned the music as high as it would go and at that level he could only just barely hear the rocking sounds that slut made beneath him.
“Ugh, now I’m resorting to sexual slurs, really Combeferre? Not cool.” He scolded himself as he spread out on his couch, debating whether or not he would even be able to sleep with the music this loud. Unfortunately, just as he was about to drift off there was a knocking on his door. He turned the music down to a reasonable level and scrambled to answer the door.
“Mrs. Simplice!” Combeferre said in shock. It was his landlady, dressed in flannel pajamas, with her long blonde hair in a rather messy ponytail. He forgot she lived in the building as well.
“Combeferre, I hope you’ve been settling in well.” She said, ever the polite one. Combeferre nodded slowly and hoped to God Courfeyrac would manage to stay quiet for the next five or so minutes. He really didn’t want the guy to get in any real trouble.
“Good, well, unfortunately I’ve gotten several complaints of noise from your apartment tonight, including one from me and my husband and my cats.” She teased and Combeferre barked out a nervous laugh.
“Sorry, Mrs. Simplice, I’ll try to keep it do-”
“OH YES! COURFEYRAC, YES!!” Combeferre grimaced as he was cut-off and Mrs. Simplice looked adequately horrified.
“What was that?”
“Um… I’m watching… porn?” Combeferre tried but Mrs. Simplice just raised an eyebrow skeptically and pushed past him into the apartment. It wasn’t hard to notice the sounds were coming up from the floor and the woman let out a scoff of disgust.
“Is he always this… loud?”
“It’s particularly bad tonight, but um, more or less, yes.” Combeferre acquiesced.
“Oh, wow. Is that why you turned the music up?” Mrs. Simplice asked and Combeferre shrugged and nodded, “Well, I completely understand. I mean, I can’t tell the boy not to have sex. It’s a natural part of adulthood,” Combeferre wanted to hide because holy fuck his seventy year old landlady was not having this conversation with him now, “But he doesn’t have to be this obnoxious about it! I’ll go talk to him sweetie, don’t worry.”
“Oh, ma’am you don’t have to-”
“Please, this is my job, Combeferre. Have a good night, and keep the music down. I’ll take care of Courfeyrac.” She smiled sweetly and Combeferre banged his head on the door as he shut it behind her.
Maybe this was getting out of hand.
###
“Ferre, you are such a nerd,” Combeferre’s younger sister of 14, Verrin, scoffed, “You literally have books pouring out of your apartment. What, filling the bookself wasn’t enough of a challenge?”
“I will have you know that I am thought of as very impressive and well-read,” Combeferre replied from his place on the floor, braiding Chrysanthemum’s hair, because ever since her sixth birthday party two weeks ago her new life goal was to be Elsa.
“I think you’re impressive,” Viannei offered, hanging off the couch upside-down. “You’re a tall, impressive nerd.” Viannei dissolved into a fit of giggles, looking over at Verrin for an approving look.
“Such words of hate, and from my own family,” Combeferre finished tying off the braid, flipping it over Chrysanthemum’s shoulder. “You still love me, right Chrissy?”
Chrysanthemum turned to smile at Combeferre sweetly, and nod, saying, “You’re my favorite big brother!”
“I’m your only big brother.”
“I know!” Chrissy laughed delightedly. “That’s why I’m so funny.”
Combeferre looked around hopelessly at his sisters.
“So, what are we thinking for dinner?” Ferre asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer.
“Pizza!” A chorus of young girls’ voices arose, and all three girls attempted to jump on Combeferre, wrestling him to the ground as Verrin skillfully pulled his phone out of his back pocket and started to dial.
Combeferre laughed for what felt like the thousandth time that night. He had really missed his sisters. It had been too long since they had all been together like this.
Right then, right when Combeferre was feeling really good about the night’s prospects, he heard it. A moan. Oh, God, Courfeyrac wasn’t building up to anything tonight; that was loud.
Combeferre’s eyebrows shot up. No no no. This was not happening tonight. He had his sisters’ innocence to protect here! What kind of big brother subjects his sisters to – another moan, the volume already increasing.
Verrin immediately turned to Courfeyrac, hand covering the receiver. Sex? She mouthed. Combeferre waved his hand at her disapprovingly, gesturing to their two little sisters, whose brows began to furrow at the third moan, followed rapidly by a fourth, fifth, six, seventh – alright, this was ending now.
“Hey, guys, come on, we’re going to go visit my downstairs neighbor really quickly,” Combeferre herded everyone to the door, in a desperate attempt to shield them from the increasingly desperate groans emanating from his floorboards.
“Ferre, what’s going on?” Verrin asked him a little too innocently as she hung up the phone, prompting similar concerns in the littler ones. Combeferre rolled his eyes exasperatedly.
“Look, just don’t ask questions in front of them and I’ll tell you the whole story later.”
Verrin’s eyes lit up at the promise of all this intrigue and helped Combeferre get Viannei and Chrysanthemum out the door and down the stairs. Combeferre and Verrin each took one and covered her ears for good measure.
Combeferre banged on the door to Courfeyrac’s apartment, hoping that he would have the decency to put something on before opening the door, unlike Enjolras’ run-in. To his surprise, a tall, gangly man with mousy brown hair answered the door, someone he had never seen before.
“Hello,” Combeferre started, cut off by an incredibly broken moan. “Who are you?”
“I’m Marius, I’m Courf’s roommate.”
“Since when?”
“Since we moved in here together? And anyway, I’m sorry, but I have been instructed not to let you speak with Courfeyrac at this time.”
“Look,” Combeferre began, once more cut off by a loud…wait. Did he just hear his own name? Did…Courfeyrac just call out Combeferre’s name while having sex with someone who was definitely not Combeferre, seeing as Combeferre was standing out here and Courfeyrac was having sex in there? Verrin’s eyes went wide and she looked back and forth from Marius to Combeferre, clearly having the time of her life as Combeferre’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.
“Look,” Combeferre began again, and thankfully the stream of sex noises have quieted, “I have my sisters over at the apartment. And I would very much appreciate if your asshole” (he pressed his hands tighter over Viannei’s ears) “of a roommate would either stop fucking or fucking put a gag on because I am trying to have a nice day with my sisters.” Combeferre said.
Marius paled and immediately yelled out, “Bert! Bert! Bert!” Which Combeferre could only interpret as some sort of weird code word.
Courfeyrac came running out, again wrapped only in a sheet, confused and a little angry as a beautiful man finished pulling on his shirt and stormed out of the apartment, still holding his shoes. He spotted Combeferre with three little ones, Chrissy and Viannei looking up at him with those giant green eyes, ears still covered, and Verrin giving him a glare that was almost worse than Combeferre’s, but not worse than Enjolras’.
“Umm…” Courf mumbled, pulling at his sheet to give himself maximum coverage. Courfeyrac’s obvious lack of comfort with the current state of affairs gave Combeferre his trademark calm back, the red in his cheeks lessening even if his mind was still reeling. Why would Courfeyrac call out for Combeferre in the middle of sex? Clearly he was thinking about him…this was completely inappropriate to be thinking about right now.
Vi spoke up, Ferre and Verrin finally letting go of their ears.
“Sir, are you okay in here?” Vi asked, child-like curiosity evident in her being.
“Um yes, why do you ask?” Courfeyrac answered, obviously nervous.
“It sounded an awful lot like you were dying or something!” Chrissy spoke up, making Verrin almost double over in laughter.
“Un petit mort.” She choked out once she got her laughter under control.
“Verrin!” scolded Combeferre, even if he was smiling now too. Courf was an adorable shade of red and it felt an awful lot like a victory.
“Oh,” Courfeyrac walked closer to the door, using it to hide behind, “well I promise everything is fine, so don’t you worry about me, ok?”
Courfeyrac turned his attention to Combeferre.
“I’m so sorry, I’ll keep it down.”
“Yeah, well that doesn’t seem like it’ll be a problem tonight anymore,” Combeferre reminded Courf, “but I would appreciate it in the future if the offer still stands.”
Courfeyrac stared at Combeferre for a moment before nodding distractedly and looking down.
Combeferre started to herd his sisters back down the hallway and got about halfway to the stairwell before hearing Courfeyrac shout out, “We’ll talk more tomorrow, ok?”
Combeferre turned back to see Courfeyrac’s sincere, rather imploring face.
“Alright,” he answered, and continued upstairs.
###
It wasn’t until late the next night that Courfeyrac built up the courage to go apologize to Combeferre. And even now he was still just standing outside his door, bouncing on the balls of his feet and shaking out his arms, trying to get rid of the nerves. He was just about to knock when the door swung open to show a very smug Combeferre smiling at him.
“How did you…?”
“Jehan just texted me and said you were standing outside my door. Apparently you didn’t even notice him and Cosette walking out.” Courfeyrac felt his cheeks flush red and Combeferre smiled wider. “Please, come in. I mean it feels like you live here already.” Combeferre muttered the last part to himself, but Courf still definitely heard it.
“Do you want something to drink, or…?” Combeferre offered, gesturing towards the kitchen. Courfeyrac shook his head and the two of them then continued to just stare at each other for a decidedly awkward amount of time.
“Okay, I owe you an apology.” Courfeyrac managed to blurt out after a while. Combeferre kept his face relatively blank as he moved to sit on the edge of his couch and crossed his arms over his chest. God, he had nice arms. It was a crime, really. “Yes, um… seriously, I am so sorry about last night. If I had known your sisters were over, I never would have-”
“Oh, so when it’s my sisters it’s crossing a boundary. But when it’s just me, exhausted as fuck after a fifteen hour shift, desperate for sleep, then fucking so loud I can hear you is okay?” Combeferre argued and Courfeyrac blanched.
“Right, let me amend my previous statement. I make stupid fucking decisions when I have a crush on someone and I am really sorry you had to experience that first-hand.” Combeferre cracked a smile at that.
“You have a crush on me?” Courfeyrac groaned at that, at the words and the fact that Combeferre bit his lip a little at the end and really this guy was just criminal.
“Yes, yes, I have a major fucking crush on you, Combeferre. You’re probably eighty percent of what I think about nowadays and I really just want you to pay attention to me… that sounded less pathetic in my head.”
“I don’t see how it could.” Combeferre teased.
“Ugh! You see! I’m horrible at this!” Courf whined, making Combeferre laugh.
“I don’t get it. You seem pretty able to get all your other crushes into bed. And be very loud.” Combeferre pointed out, sounding a little bitter (which Courfeyrac tried not to get too excited about).
“Oh, those weren’t crushes.” Combeferre raised an eyebrow, not looking convinced. “Oh come on, Ferre, that was just… sex. Nothing real, just sex.” He assured.
“And it would be ‘just sex’ with me?”
“No… no, with you it would be… dating.” Courfeyrac whispered the end and stared down at his shoes, green converse that he was pretty sure he stole from Grantaire.
“Dating?” Combeferre asked, increasingly smug. Courfeyrac forced himself to look the man in the eye; he was an adult. He could deal with talking about how he wanted to date Combeferre.
“Yes, dating.” Courfeyrac knew he still said the word too fast, like he was spitting it out, like it was a bad word or something. Combeferre definitely noticed too and he stood up off the couch to move closer to Courf.
“How would you date me, Courfeyrac?” he asked, emphasizing every consonant in the damn word. Somehow it made Courf blush and he felt fucking ridiculous.
“I don’t know… like… I don’t know, don’t make me talk about it!” Courfeyrac whined, feeling all tingly all of a sudden, especially when he looked up at Combeferre, his hazel eyes intoxicating and swimming with amusement and what Courfeyrac almost dared to read as lust.
“Oh, so your sex life is okay to be shouted across the building, but this you’re too shy to talk about?” Combeferre teased. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes and shook his head petulantly, but Ferre distracted him from responding by stepping even closer, leaning in to whisper in Courf’s ear. He was definitely taller than Courfeyrac so he had to lean down noticeably. “Do you wanna date me, Courf?” Combeferre asked, his voice husky and perfect and Courfeyrac was affected more by the way he said it rather than what he was saying, but Combeferre huffed out a laugh either way. “Do you want to hold my hand and take me to the movies and meet my mom and stay up late at night just talking?” Combeferre enunciated every word and somehow made it all sound filthy and Courfeyrac couldn’t help but laugh as well when Combeferre did.
“Oooo, baby, yeah, tell me more.” Courfeyrac moaned, playing along and Combeferre laughed again, loudly, before moving his hands to rest on Courfeyrac’s hips.
“Hmm, no. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Combeferre whispered, pressing his forehead against Courf’s and moving his lips tantalizingly close, “Instead I should just tell you how hard I’m going to fuck you.” Combeferre stared straight into Courf’s eyes as he spoke, and he was vaguely certain he made a noise somewhere along the lines of ‘nggghh’ and it made Combeferre grin. “I won’t do it hard, I hope you know. Not the first time, because believe me, there will be many times. But no, the first time I’m going to go agonizingly slow, because I know how you like it Courf. I’ve heard it, hard and fast, enough to make you scream. I’m not going to do that, no. I’m going to keep it slow and loving and you’re going to be fucking desperate for more, Courf. Fuck, you’re going to be begging to scream out but no, I won’t let you do that either. Maybe I’ll invest in a gag, so you won’t have any trouble keeping your slutty mouth shut-”
“Combeferre.” Courfeyrac whined, arching himself closer to the man, desperately hard already and fuck, the guy hadn’t even kissed him yet. Combeferre laughed softly and slid his hand back a little more, to rest on the small of Courfeyrac’s back and pushed him forward so their lips crashed together. Courfeyrac was desperate, at the end of his string and he just wanted more but Combeferre kept it exactly like he said he would, slow and sensual and fucking unbelievably hot.
“Oh my God, Ferre, oh my God. You are literally going to kill me.” Courfeyrac rambled when Combeferre pulled away from his lips, moving down to suck a mark on his neck as he guided him to the bedroom.
“I’m not going to kill you.” Combeferre assured. “Grantaire would be mad at me, and then Enjolras would be mad at me because Grantaire is mad and that’s just too much work.”
“Oh yeah, man, those two are so going to happen.” Courfeyrac said, moaning at the end of the sentence as Combeferre pushed him roughly down onto his bed. “Grantaire talks about him all the time.” Courfeyrac felt a scream rise in his throat as Combeferre bit down at his collarbone, but it was cut-off when the man placed his hand firmly over his mouth.
“Please stop talking about Enjolras and Grantaire. I’m trying to fuck you.” Combeferre’s voice was nothing if not logical and Courfeyrac smiled and nodded, licking Combeferre’s hand in an obscene manner until the man moved it with a very interested humming noise.
“Hmm, sorry. I’ll be quiet. Please proceed.”