Fic: New Visions (1/1)

[estelraca]

For Vee, who wanted me to write Combeferre and Courfeyrac in a relationship and inviting Enjolras to join them.

 

New Visions

"What do you see?"

Combeferre squints up in the darkness. "Given that my glasses are on the night stand and the ambient light is barely enough to allow for visibility… I see a hint of hair that is probably curly, a vague blob below the hair that is likely your head, and black pits in the vague blob of your head that are likely your eyes."

The body lying on top of Combeferre shifts, in a way that would probably have been infuriating a half hour ago but is now just comfortable and reassuring, and lips press down hard against his mouth. "Ever the romantic, aren't we?"

"You asked what I see. I am not in much of position to see right now." Combeferre lifts his hands, resting one on either side of Courfeyrac's head. Closing his eyes, he strokes his hands from Courfeyrac's hair down his cheeks, around the curve of his chin, down his neck, and back up. "Now, if you want to know what I feel, oh, that is a very different matter. I feel hair, sleek and silky, perfectly kept, at a very fashionable length, though with a curl that you are kind enough to never change since I find it both pleasing and adorable. I could bury my hands in your hair for days and enjoy every moment of it, even without the joy that would come from eventually working my fingers down to that thick and glorious skull of yours and mapping out your physiognomy. You have cheekbones just slightly higher than normal, that are covered by a delicate layer of adipose tissue which gives your face a radiant roundness."

"Mmm." Courfeyrac's chest vibrates against Combeferre's in a silent laugh. "You are the only lover I have ever had who could make the word 'adipose' seem sexy and endearing."

"On you anything is sexy and endearing." Combeferre allows his hands to slide lower, along Courfeyrac's ribs. "Including nothing."

"So nothing is sexy and endearing on me." Laughter bubbles just beneath Courfeyrac's words.

"Yes. Very sexy and endearing." Wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac's chest, Combeferre holds his lover tightly to him, intentionally ignoring the half-pun.

"You are also very sexy and endearing." Courfeyrac's nose is chill as he nuzzles against Combeferre's neck. "And I am very happy with what we have here."

"Me, too." Combeferre buries his hands in Courfeyrac's hair again. "But?"

"What?" There's a mocking note of innocence to Courfeyrac's tone now.

"I know you. You're leading up to something." Combeferre kisses Courfeyrac's chin. "You're happy with what we have here now, but… what?"

"Well, I was going to ask if there's something you'd like to see here as well as me, but given that seeing is apparently not a word I am allowed to use tonight… is there anything else you would like to feel here?" Courfeyrac's fingers trail gently down Combeferre's cheek. "Is there anyone else you want to touch you like this?"

Combeferre licks at his lips, leaning into Courfeyrac's touch. "Is there anyone in particular that you have in mind?"

"Well, there is one man that I've noticed you spending a great deal of time with and watching quite avidly." Courfeyrac's voice falls to a quiet purr. "He is an absolutely gorgeous man, I must say. The prettiest man I've ever seen, with a soul of fire and a heart of steel and a body that I would love to touch."

Combeferre doesn't say anything, his body frozen along with his mind.

"Combeferre?" For the first time a hint of nervousness enters Courfeyrac's voice, and his fingers are tense and uncertain as they press against Combeferre's face and chest. "If I read the situation wrong, my friend, please just say so. I will never again talk of him in terms like those. I will do everything in my power to make you forget my faux pas. I can do what I did an hour ago, if you want, or I can get a bit more creative, if you want, or—"

"He's beautiful." Combeferre whispers the words, but Courfeyrac immediately stops talking. "You're right. He's absolutely beautiful, and I love him from the bottom of my heart and soul. If… if you wouldn't be upset about it… if you would be interested…"

"I love you, Combeferre, dearly and happily, but I wouldn't have brought this up if I wouldn't be interested in bringing him into our relationship." Courfeyrac's lips brush feather-light against Combeferre's forehead. "He's already a part of so much of our lives—we're like three parts of a whole so far as leading the Amis go, it seemed only natural to me that we consider having him a part of this, too."

"I… don't know if he'd be interested." Combeferre trails his hands up to cup Courfeyrac's face again, pulling him down into a long, deep kiss. "He's never seemed interested in romance—never aware of it at all. But if there's any chance of getting to have both him and you like this, I will gladly take it."

"Well, then, we'll ask him tomorrow, after the Amis' meeting is done." Courfeyrac bends down, then hesitates and whispers a question into Combeferre's ear. "You don't think he'll object, or think less of us, because of this?"

Combeferre considers the question seriously. There is the possibility, of course, though it chills him to the bone and saddens him. It's not even the possibility of losing Enjolras' respect that worries him most, though that thought is haunting. It's the possibility of his having to lose respect for Enjolras, if his friend can't find it in him to accept that there is nothing wrong with the bonds that Courfeyrac and Combeferre share, that their physical relationship heightens rather than detracts from their platonic one. "I think… given time and an explanation he will accept us, whether or not he decides to join us. I cannot promise that, and I have been disappointed by other people before, but I don't think we will be by him."

"I don't think we will be, either." Courfeyrac settles down, a warm, comforting weight against Combeferre, "And I do hope he decides to join us. I think the three of us could be amazing together."

"I like to think the two of us are rather amazing together." Combeferre lifts his head to kiss at Courfeyrac's neck. "And that the three of us are amazing as we are, as well."

"We are, to both suggestions." Courfeyrac kisses Combeferre's shoulder in return, at the spot that is halfway between ticklish and erotic, and Combeferre can feel Courfeyrac smiling from the shape of his lips. "It would be a different kind of amazing, one that does not detract from the amazingness that we have right now."

Combeferre intentionally doesn't respond to Courfeyrac making up words. If he starts playing word games with Courfeyrac, that will be the rest of the night gone, and though he sometimes enjoys that he doesn't want to be distracted right now. "So I was right to not respond with any jealousy to this suggestion of yours?"

"Just as I am right not to be jealous of the bond that you and he have already, and you are right not to be jealous of the bond he and I have." Courfeyrac speaks with an easy acceptance of the situation, a blithe unconcerned air that Combeferre knows is both true and false. Courfeyrac is never shy about talking of his past lovers, of his desire for anyone who catches his eye or his heart temporarily, but he has always treated Combeferre fairly. He has never taken any additional lovers during their liaison without Combeferre's permission, and he always returns to Combeferre's side again, just as happy and enthusiastic as ever. "Adding physicality to this would just be acknowledging that the man is absolutely gorgeous, and that I have the stamina of a rabbit."

Combeferre smiles. "Aside from the fact that most men would hesitate to call themselves rabbits, you are without a doubt the most talkative and immodest rabbit there has ever been."

"For the first point, rabbits are both fierce and swift, qualities that men find appealing. For the second, what use do rabbits have for modesty?" Courfeyrac laughs. "I am quite happy to not engage in games of jealousy, especially not with you. You are far too intelligent, and we've both far too many important people in our lives. I would much rather keep this a relationship of mutual entertainment and adoration, rather than possessiveness and insecurity."

"I don't know if he would take to the… unconventional arrangement we have had as well as I have." Combeferre runs his thumb along Courfeyrac's cheekbone once more. "Balancing two lovers will be asking him to stretch outside his comfort zone already. I do not know how he would react to your… dalliances."

"I may not desire or need them, if I am balancing the two of you. It will be a different situation for all of us than the one that we have now. But I will swear to him, as I have sworn to you and kept my word, that I will do nothing to intentionally hurt him, and certainly nothing behind his back."

"Tomorrow, then." A sound that is part-laugh and part-sigh slides from Combeferre's mouth without his permission. "It will be an exciting evening."

"It will be." Courfeyrac's mouth is feather-gentle again as it presses between Combeferre's eyes. "Enough talk of tomorrow, though. As fascinating a subject as it is and as well-versed in it as we all are, I find myself wanting to focus on tonight for the nonce. Are you tired? Do you require sleep now? Or would you like me to demonstrate my rabbit-ness once more?"

Combeferre doesn't answer in words, but he's quite certain Courfeyrac understands him all the same.

XXX

Combeferre and Courfeyrac are planning something.

Enjolras knows it early in the day. There's an undercurrent of excitement to their motions, their voices, a tension in the way they look at each other and at him. It's not the worried, wary nervousness that usually accompanies the expectation of something going wrong within the Amis, though, and he's certain that they would tell him if it was something related to their political agenda. Instead they proceed through the day normally, attending classes, working on some rhetoric in the afternoon, and meeting with the rest of the Amis at the Musain in the evening.

It's not until they're preparing to leave, after a productive, enjoyable evening, that whatever's been distracting the two of them finally boils to the surface. Enjolras watches the unspoken conversation pass between the two of them, the slight tilt to Courfeyrac's head that asks a question, the incremental nod of Combeferre's that is the answer.

Now, if only he knew what the exact question was, and why it makes Courfeyrac grin excitedly and Combeferre stare at Enjolras with the faintest smile, a hunger in his eyes that he usually reserves for an exciting experiment that Enjolras is only half-likely to comprehend.

"Will you come with us?" Courfeyrac asks the question, a thrum of anticipation and exhilaration in the quiet words.

"Now?" Enjolras looks between his two friends.

"Now." Combeferre's smile broadens. "Unless you wish to spend another day or so wondering what we're planning."

"In the interests of preventing a vicious cycle wherein I watch the two of you watching me watch you, I think I'll accept your invitation." Gathering his things, Enjolras stands. "Where are we going?"

Another unspoken conversation between Courfeyrac and Combeferre, and then both answer at the same time.

Enjolras manages to keep from laughing. "I can endeavor to go to both your houses, but doing so at the same time may be difficult."

"Are we not doing scenario six anymore?" Courfeyrac's grin hasn't been diminished. "Because that's the one I was going for."

"You numbered them?" Shaking his head, Combeferre gives Courfeyrac an indulgent smile. "I believe this would be scenario four, in that situation. We're going to my place."

"This could also be scenario eight. I would like it to become scenario eight." Courfeyrac turns hopeful eyes to Enjolras. "Could you let it become scenario eight?"

Combeferre laughs. "Let's go. He's going to be like this until we have things settled. Shall we?"

Enjolras follows Combeferre and Courfeyrac out the door, listening to the two of them banter back and forth, relaxed and happy in their company. It's been a good day, a productive day, and whatever misadventures his friends want him to engage in with them now are fine.

The conversation trails off once they're in Combeferre's room. Enjolras settles down on the edge of Combeferre's bed, his bag on the floor at his feet, and watches as Combeferre and Courfeyrac stare between each other and him, something like trepidation underlying their excitement now.

He frowns. Why should they be nervous about this evening? What non-Amis related activities could they possibly be involved in that would lead to so much tension?

"I fear I've lost track of which scenario we're in." Courfeyrac tries to smile, but it doesn't touch his eyes. "How do you propose we ease into our, er, topic, Combeferre?"

"We don't. We simply state it." Combeferre sits down on the bed at Enjolras' right hand. His hands are clasped together in front of him, his expression serious, and he meets Enjolras' eyes evenly. His tone is very grave. "Courfeyrac and I have been sleeping together."

Enjolras blinks. It takes him a moment to process the words, to read beyond the simple meaning to the euphemism that is clearly underlying it. That would explain the tension in the room, at least, and the way that Courfeyrac is practically bouncing in place, clearly expecting an explosion of some kind from him. "Ah."

Combeferre's face twitches, just the faintest hint of panic underlying his calm certainty, and Enjolras realizes he needs to say something more in response.

What is he to say, though? It makes no difference to him who his lieutenants decide to bed, if they decide to bed anyone at all, at least so long as it doesn't interfere with their politics. "Are the two of you content?"

"Very." Combeferre glances at Courfeyrac, his lips pulling up slowly into a broad, honest smile.

"Quite. As content as I've been in some time." Courfeyrac paces closer to them, rests a hand on Combeferre's shoulder. "Combeferre is the best partner I have ever had, quite probably the best I could ever hope to have, and I like to think we've been quite happy together."

"Good." Enjolras smiles between his two friends. "Then I wish you both continued happiness, but I fail to see how it concerns me."

"That's the entirety of your answer?" Courfeyrac shakes his head. "No questions, no hesitancies, no doubts?"

Tilting his head, Enjolras considers the other man. "What would you have me question?"

"Well… anything." Courfeyrac gives a self-deprecating laugh. "You don't have any questions about our fitness for the Amis?"

"I know you're the best men for the job. It's why we're working together." Enjolras frowns. "Your personal life and preferences have no bearing on your work or your revolutionary fervor, and I have a deep respect for both."

"No questions about our masculinity." Courfeyrac breathes out the words. "No questions about our morality."

"No." Speaking gently, recognizing the expectation for rejection and humiliation underlying the words, Enjolras reaches out and takes his friend's hand. "I am not interested in romance, but I am not blind, either. I know… what some men do. I know what is sometimes said about them. But sodomy is not illegal, nor should it be, and there should be no aspersions cast on acts that harm none and bring joy to those involved. You will never find me standing in the way of a man's freedom, Courfeyrac, unless that freedom threatens another's."

"I've done you an injustice." Courfeyrac squeezes his hand, the bright smile returning to his face. "I am sorry, my friend. I'm just so used to some reaction, either relief at having found another who shares certain proclivities or horror as the world rearranges itself, that bland acceptance was… difficult to interpret."

"I am honored by your trust, then, and hope that I've been reassuring." Enjolras looks between his two friends once more, something like disappointment rising in him. He had been hoping for something a bit more… exciting, given the tension the two had been showing all day, but he can understand and appreciate why sharing this information with him would explain it. "I still fail to see how this affects or involves me, though."

"Well…" A faint flush rises to Combeferre's cheeks, and he shifts uncomfortably. "You see, we had thought… there had been talk… how far does your distaste for romance extend, Enjolras?"

"Not distaste. Disinterest." Enjolras shrugs. "My priority, as always, is the republic. Romance would be a distraction from that, and a cruel taunt for anyone I took as a mistress, toying at a future that we may or may not have. I accept that romance is important for some, and understand why many of you choose to engage in it, but I see no need to."

He's said something wrong. He can see it in the way Combeferre pulls back from him, just slightly, in the downward cast of Combeferre's eyes and the disappointment furrowing Combeferre's brow. Somehow he's managed to embarrass or hurt his friend, though he's not sure what part of his statement is responsible.

"Enjolras." Courfeyrac speaks quietly, rolling each word out as though considering it before letting it pass. "You attend events with us—with the Amis, with Combeferre and I, yes? Lectures, dances, theatre, recitals, things of that nature."

Enjolras raises both eyebrows, looking up at Courfeyrac. "You know that I do."

Courfeyrac nods, excitement in his face again, similar to when he constructs what he feels is a clever legal argument. "And do you find it a terrible burden to do so?"

"I sometimes find my friends' taste in entertainment not to my liking. As they—you—sometimes find my penchant for politics at any time occasionally difficult to manage." Enjolras smiles. "But no. I do not begrudge time spent with any of you."

"Combeferre and I want you to join in our relationship." Courfeyrac's hand tightens on Combeferre's shoulder, and he meets Enjolras' eyes evenly, almost challengingly. "We both love you, dearly. If you've no desire to, if you've absolutely no desire for the carnal knowledge of man, we understand. But if you're interested at all…"

"I…" Enjolras hesitates. "I truly don't know."

"Don't know?" Combeferre's head rises slowly from its bowed position.

"I don't know." Shrugging, Enjolras crosses his arms in front of his chest and rests his chin against his fist. "I have never considered the possibility of a physical relationship with a very close friend before."

"Never?" Courfeyrac seems shocked.

"But you would with us." Combeferre's smile is warm enough, grateful enough, that is stabs through Enjolras cleaner than any knife.

"You are my friends and my allies. You are as staunchly dedicated to the betterment of mankind as I am." Laying his hand on Combeferre's knee, Enjolras speaks earnestly. "I meant no disrespect to you and no suggestion that our relationship is a distraction in my words."

"I know that's not what you intended. I just thought…" Combeferre draws a deep breath and gives a slow sigh. "I thought perhaps it was selfish or cruel to ask you for something like this, when you clearly have very focused priorities."

"Priorities you share." Enjolras glances from Combeferre to Courfeyrac and back. "Would a relationship distract at all from our goals?"

Courfeyrac snorts. "Of course not."

"You know that it won't." Combeferre's smile is the dawn, slow and beautiful and full of hope and potential.

"I have never attempted any kind of romance before." Enjolras frowns. "I may be rather terrible at it, both mentally and physically. But if the two of you wish to try, I am quite happy to oblige you."

Courfeyrac's arms are around him before Enjolras knows that the man is moving, Courfeyrac's laugh ringing in his ears. "Oh, I knew things would work out! I knew it."

Enjolras refrains from pointing out that Courfeyrac had been the one acting most nervous earlier, instead patting his lieutenant on the back and surreptitiously shifting his body so he can breathe more easily.

Courfeyrac pulls back. "Does this mean we can try scenario one, Combeferre?"

"If that's the one where I kiss him first, then yes." Combeferre leans in, then hesitates. "Assuming you're all right with it?"

"I give my permission to anything you wish to do." Sitting back up as Courfeyrac pulls away, Enjolras finds himself smiling again. "If I need to withdraw it, believe me, you will know."

"All right, then." Combeferre leans in, slowly, his breaths quickening with each centimeter of space obliterated between them, and presses his mouth to Enjolras'.

It's a strange feeling. There is warmth and moisture, a gentle questing of lips against his, and Enjolras allows his free hand to cup the back of Combeferre's head, pulling them closer.

Combeferre apparently takes that as a request, his lips pressing harder to Enjolras', and the heat from Combeferre's skin seems to jump to Enjolras' body, warming him in unexpected places.

Another hand buries itself in his hair, another mouth, rounder and firmer, presses gently to his neck while Combeferre continues to kiss his mouth, and Enjolras gives a little gasp, jerking back without intending to.

"Slowly, Courfeyrac." Combeferre's voice is low and authoritative as he makes the command. "He told us he's no experience with this."

Courfeyrac pouts. "He also said he'll tell us to stop if he wishes us to stop."

Both Courfeyrac and Combeferre pull back from him, studying each other for a moment before turning to look at him expectantly.

"I will tell you to stop if I want you to." Enjolras hesitates, his hand moving to his lips, rekindling a bit of the warmth that had spread throughout his body and flooded through his mind as his best friends pressed against him. "Perhaps just stop, though. Something short. Something easy to remember in the midst of… this."

Courfeyrac's grin couldn't be wider as he settles on Enjolras' left side and presses a gentle, platonic kiss to his cheek. "Enjolras, you speak my language without even realizing it. Onward, then?"

"Onward." Combeferre's smile isn't quite as wide but is somehow hungrier, needier, his hand bright fire where it brushes against Enjolras' knee.

Closing his eyes, Enjolras allows the two of them to guide him on this new journey.

XXX

They haven't progressed beyond undressing Enjolras' upper body, moving slowly, patiently, at a pace that is both infuriating and perfect for Enjolras, when there is a knock on the door.

Combeferre mutters out words of frustration and apology, adjusts his clothing to a more presentable look within seconds, and goes to answer the door.

It takes Enjolras a bit longer to dress, though he does so as swiftly as he can, and he and Courfeyrac enter the room to find Combeferre carefully examining a gamin's injured arm.

Bahorel looms over the child, scowling fiercely at the blood staining the boy's shirt. "—sorry, Combeferre, I know it's late, but we were nearby and…" Bahorel trails off, turning to take in Enjolras and Courfeyrac, and then continues on as though nothing untoward has registered. "The lad runs odd jobs for the Amis every once in a while, so he came to me after he was hurt. If you need something from Necker or a proper hospital I can fetch a fiacre, and I'll certainly pay—"

"I should be able to get it bandaged and cared for here." Combeferre smiles at the huddled child. "The bone doesn't seem to be broken. I'm sure it's quite painful, but we'll get it fixed up for you." Turning to Bahorel, Combeferre gives him an exasperated look. "And the money isn't a problem, you know that."

"It can make having your social life interrupted at odd hours rather less painful, though." Bahorel grins. "Not that the three of you were likely having a social life. Already planning the next pamphlet for distribution, or were you instead discussing when our next bit of rabble-rousing should be?"

"Of course, to both of those. Though not having you involved in any discussions of rabble-rousing would be a hideous oversight." Courfeyrac returns Bahorel's easy grin, lounging in the doorway. "This, of course, takes priority over any of that, though."

Enjolras frowns, realizing belatedly that there are other considerations to this new potential relationship that he will have to discuss with his friends. He will not lie to the other Amis about any relationship he is in. He will not assume the worst about his friends' reactions and thus hide things from them.

At the same time, he cannot in good conscience do anything that will interfere with his work or role as leader of the Amis. A certain amount of discretion will be needed, at least until the revolution is further underway.

Watching Combeferre work, watching Courfeyrac speak with the child and finally coax laughter from him, watching Bahorel show the boy how to make a proper fist with his good hand in order to defend himself in the future and to distract him from the pain as Combeferre works, Enjolras finds his concerns melting away.

The Amis stand together, in solidarity and love.

The Amis fight together, bleed for shared goals and beliefs.

The details, physical and romantic, don't matter beyond that.

Comments

[box_of_doom]

This is lovely. I love the relationship dynamics described here and how they're willing to negotiate, and how Enjolras really... doesn't care about what Combeferre and Courfeyrac are to each other. Actually, somehow, your Enjolras here is leading me to imagining him as a Vulcan. ...I don't know how that works, but I'm kind of very amused.

I'm very tempted to ask what the scenarios were, but I'm also not quite sure if they've shared that level of planning detail with you, outside of that they ended up doing #1.

The ending, practically a moral, is also wonderful. Really, details should matter less. Thank goodness the world is starting to see that, if slowly.

[estelraca]

Oh, don't tempt me to write a Star Trek crossover! I could see Enjolras as a Vulcan--or as a Romulan. I could actually very easily see him and the Amis as a faction in the Romulan Empire, trying to work for equality from within. And having super-strength and contact telepathy and super-charged emotions. And sexy pointy ears. And--and--

Oh, no. More plot bunnies!

I do not have quite that level of planning detail from them about the scenarios. I'm sure I could get it, if you desperately need it. ;-p

Also very much agreed to the thank goodness that the world is slowly changing.

[box_of_doom]

*TEMPTS YOU WITH THE LEVEL OF WAVY ARMS FOUND WHEN TRYING TO EXPLAIN THE GATE TO OTHERS*

[estelraca]

Oh, god, that's the best description of that animation ever.

And your wish is my command. I shall add it to the end of my prompt list, and you'll at least get a little ficlet out of it.

(Speaking of fics, your first Barricade Day fic with Enjolras and Feuilly will be going up very shortly. The modern-day cosplay one with everyone will hopefully be done by tomorrow.)

[bobbiewickham]

How gorgeous and well-characterized and just perfect all around! I love me some E/C/C, I must say.

[estelraca]

Thank you! I love me some E/C/C, too, though I somehow don't manage to write it very often. ^.^; I'm glad that it felt in character.

[enjolras]

While I was reading this, I kept wondering what the other scenarios were. Were they more ludicrous? More serious? Just in case Enjolras tried to bolt? Made to counter his arguments?

And there's Enjolras, struggling to find answers in order to keep his friends from looking disappointed while being true to himself.

This was perfect! I couldn't have asked for a better fill! I love how the three of them came together. What I really wanted most is the how rather than the aftermath, and you wrote it so succinctly and wonderfully. I'm very impressed.

Thank you thank you thank you!

[estelraca]

Some were more ludicrous; some were more serious; some were just to make Combeferre groan or turn red or smack Courfeyrac. Like the one with a naked Courfeyrac pouncing on an attempting-to-flee Enjolras and showing him the error of his fear.

I'm so glad that you liked it. I considered attempting to write a sex scene, but it wasn't working very well and then Bahorel decided to interrupt it anyway so I let things just fade to black.

Thank you for giving me wonderful prompts that are lots of fun to write!

[catofshades]

Oh goodness.

I love how excited the two Cs are.
I think my favorite line though was that "another whole day of me watching you watching me watch you." That was great!

The bits from Enjolras' POV were wonderful. From the set up, the reader already know what Fey and Ferre are thinking at each turn, but Enjy has no idea. No it's fascinating to watch how he struggles to interpret or how he responds to them.

And it's great how unconcerned he is with it all.
"Okay."
"What do you mean 'okay?'"
"Uh, 'okay'."
"No, you've GOT to have more of an opinion than that!"
"I do?"

Heh, I was left wondering if Bahorel figured it out... or if the through crossed his mind and he was like "Nahhh". I can't tell if those guesses about what political activity they were up to were ironic or not...