Work Text:
Courfeyrac knew the day was going to suck within five minutes after he woke up.
Pulled from sleep by his annoying alarm clock he abruptly sat up, nearly crying out in pain as his stomach twinged. The next thing he was aware off was stumbling to his feet as his stomach lurched, trying to reach the bathroom in time. His luck did not get any better, the door was locked and he could hear Enjolras doing his every morning one-man-rendition of "My shot" under the shower. Cradeling his stomach he staggered into the kitchen, where Combeferre was sitting, as always reading the newspaper.
"Morning", Combeferre greeted, studying him. "Are you alright?"
Courfeyrac didn't manage to answer his roommate, before he was violently sick in the sink.
"Evidently not", Combeferre sighed and stood up to rub his back. The medical student held him close, letting water wash away the sickness. Once Courfeyrac had stopped retching, Combeferre squeezed his shoulder and asked: "You done?"
"For now", Courfeyrac gasped and let himself sink against his friend. He was very glad Combeferre was there with him. Everybody wanted Combeferre to be there, when they didn't feel well. His stomach hurt, nausea still bubbling in his throat and from the shakyness he felt, he knew he had to have at least a low-grade fever.
"Let's get you to bed, huh?", Combeferre said gently and lead him towards his bedroom.
Gratefully Courfeyrac sank into his mattress. He really wasn't feeling well. Carefully Combeferre pushed him to lie down. Courfeyrac could barely stop the groan escaping him as his stomach hurt more with the movement.
"Stomach ache?", Combeferre asked symphatically. Courfeyrac nodded. "I'll get you some medicine and a bucket."
Courfeyrac closed his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose. Vaguely he was aware of Combeferre shouting at Enjolras to quit singing or else he would counter with "You'll be back". He had to smile at that, threatening Enjolras with monarchistic songs was always a delight. He remembered the great "Let it go"-incident of a few years back when everytime Enjolras had said everything about the goverment Grantaire had replied with "and it looks like I am the queen." After Enjolras had let a very innocent looking Jehan braid his hair and the poet had done THE Elsa-braid, everybody had lost it and Jehan with it hair-braiding permission. Ever since Frozen was forbidden at movie nights.
Combeferre returned, an Enjolras with his hair in a towel behind him. Courfeyrac smiled at the sight. Enjolras looked ridiculous.
"What?", Enjolras defended himself. "Drying hair in a practical way is not a gendered thing, 'Fey."
"I know", he laughed, then stopped at the pain in his stomach, wincing. "But you do look funny."
Enjolras just rolled his eyes.
Suddenly, Courfeyrac's stomach rolled again and he barely had time to gasp out Combeferre's name, before he was throwing up into the bucket the other man quickly shoved under his head.
A few minutes later, Enjolras helped him lie down again, while Combeferre took out the bucket to clean it.
"Let's check your temperature?", Enjolras said and sat down at Courfeyrac's hip, handing him the thermometer he held in one hand.
Luckily Courfeyrac's gag reflex was very weak on a good day and even now he had no trouble measuring his temperature.
"38.1", Enjolras read, "that's a low fever alright. Have some paracetamol."
"If I can keep it down."
"You always tell me to be more positive!"
"Well, sorry, if I am not feeling very positive today. I first had to hear you try to sing and then puked in the kitchen sink. Maybe those instances were related."
"Hey, rude! Wait, you puked where?"
"Kids, settle down", Combeferre said from the door, shaking his head and laughing.
"Kids?", Enjolras and Courfeyrac exclaimed simultaneously.
"'Ferre, you are just a year older than us!"
"Only Jojo is a kid. I'm the teenager in this relationship!"
"I'm five days younger than you, 'Fey!"
"Exactly my point!"
"Jojo, stop aggravating 'Fey. 'Fey, stop patronising Jojo", Combeferre said, "seriously, you sometimes are unbelievable."
"Rude", Courfeyrac mumbled, crossing his arms.
"Now, be a good boy and take your medicine", Combeferre insisted and handed him a glass of water and a pill.
"That's what I said", Enjolras said.
"Get the hell out, Jojo", Courfeyrac said, swatting at Enjolras. If he wanted to get to his morning classes he had to get ready now anyways.
The social work student smiled, kissed his forehead and moved to the door. "Feel better, 'Fey", he said and closed the door behind himself.
Courfeyrac swallowed the pill and laid back against his pillows. "I hate this", he muttered.
"I can't imagine anyone enjoying a stomach bug. That's probably what it is. There has been one going around, figures you would catch it. I had my money on Jojo." Combeferre smiled.
"You had a bet on who would catch the stomach flu first?", Courfeyrac asked, perplexed.
"Joly bet on Bossuet", Combeferre answered, shrugging.
"Frigging med students." Courfeyrac shook his head. "Do you still win if Jojo catches it before Bossuet?"
"I sure hope so", Combeferre laughed.
"I can puke on Jojo, if you want", Courfeyrac suggested, innocently.
"Please don't", Enjolras said from the doorway, "or you cannot have this." He pointed at his eletric heating pad he held in his hand.
"Gimme", Courfeyrac said and reached for it. Enjolras shook his head, but handed it over.
"Wait, 'Ferre, don't you have to work?", he asked then.
"Shit, right", Combeferre exclaimed. "Who do you want me to call, see if they can keep you company?"
"I don't need a babysitter."
"I'd feel better knowing there was somebody here with you."
"Fine. Anybody but Joly, please. I'm not dealing with him today. Wait, no Bossuet either. That would end in disaster."
"How about we check if Jehan is free?", Enjolras suggested.
"Good idea", Combeferre said, smiling, "I'll call them."
Eight hours later Combeferre opened the lock to their apartment. His day had been exhausting and he really didn't look forward to continue playing nursemaid. He loved Courfeyrac, of course he did (and maybe more than a normal friend) but taking care of his sick best friend was not something he enjoyed.
Jehan waved at him from where they sat on the pulled out-couch, which now more resembled a bed, Courfeyrac's head in their lap. The elementary school teacher student was fast asleep on his back, eyebrows drawn together in discomfort.
"How's he doing?", Combeferre whispered and knelt down next to the pair.
"He is really sick. He's been throwing up nearly every hour, hasn't been able to keep anything down. From the fact that he locked me out of the bathroom a few times, I believe he has diarrhea as well. His stomach seems to hurt him a lot."
Combeferre nodded and ran his hand through Courfeyrac's sweaty curly black hair.
"How high is his fever?", he asked, as he felt the burning heat radiating off of Courfeyrac.
"Last time we took it, uhm, about an hour ago it was 39.2 degrees."
"Damn, that's really not good", Combeferre mumbled.
Suddenly Courfeyrac woke up, already gagging. Quickly Jehan and Combeferre turned the student to his side, so that he would be sick into the bucket on the floor.
Barely anything but bile came up.
"'Ferre?", he asked through glassy, confused eyes.
"Hey, yeah, it's me", Combeferre said and kissed the man's forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Urgh."
"Fair enough."
"'Ferre?"
"Mh?"
"My stomach really hurts", Courfeyrac whispered.
"I know, I am so sorry", Combeferre whispered and continued stroking his hair.
"Thank you so much, Jehan, for staying here with him. You can go now. The meeting's in an hour after all."
There was no use in three of them missing their weekly meeting and Combeferre was way to worried about Courfeyrac to go to there. If he was lucky, Courfeyrac would go to sleep and then he could rest as well. He had had quite many shifts this week and he was even more exhausted than normally.
Jehan nodded and carefully lifted Courfeyrac's head of their lap, gently laying him down on a pillow and placing a kiss on his head. Then they grabbed their bag and with a wave left.
Courfeyrac grabbed Combeferre's hand and squeezed it tightly, pain evident on his face.
"That bad?", Combeferre asked. He knew Courfeyrac had a relatively low pain threshold, but he had never seen the other man in so much pain. He supposed with such a bad stomach bug, it would only be logical.
"Yeah", Courfeyrac ground out. "Lay down with me?"
Combeferre nodded, quite relieved. "Let me grab some sweatpants and I'll get you some tea, okay?"
When he returned about five minutes later, Courfeyrac was half asleep already. Smiling Combeferre put down the tea at the coffee table and laid down on the couch next to Courfeyrac.
"Wanna watch a movie?", he asked as he pulled the other man close so that his head rested on his chest.
"Hm, no. Music though?", Courfeyrac asked. Combeferre grabbed his phone and scrolled through his playlists till he found the one he was looking for. Last year, when nearly everybody of the amis had been down with the flu, Courfeyrac had put it on his phone, playing it over the loudspeakers in Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta's apartment where everybody had been sleeping spread across the living room. Courfeyrac had been one of the few not sick and had asked everybody for their favorite song and put a few of the amis collective favorite songs on there too. Combeferre put the "Sucky Days"-playlist on shuffle and soon "We are young", Feuilly's favorite song, was playing softly.
Courfeyrac smiled and closed his eyes, breath deepening out in sleep.
Combeferre gently ran his fingers through Courfeyrac's hair yet again, he loved playing with the short locks. He grabbed his phone and started to read the news.
Half an hour later Courfeyrac started to quirm and mumble on top of him, trapped in a feverish nightmare. Carefully Combeferre put his phone away and lifted Courfeyrac off his chest and laid him down against the cushions. He knelt down again next to his friend and gently shook his shoulder to wake him up.
"'Fey, wake up, come on", Combeferre whispered, then repeated the words louder, shaking the other man a bit harder.
Finally Courfeyrac opened his eyes and looked at him with a glassy, feverish glaze.
"Mom?", he mumbled.
"No, it's me. Combeferre", the medical student said, "come on, wake up, 'Fey."
The other just closed his eyes again. Combeferre shook him a bit rougher after that, a bit of fear gnawing at his stomach. Courfeyrac opened his eyes again, but it was clear in his mind he wasn't in the room.
Combeferre took the thermometer laying on the table and put it in his friends mouth. After a few seconds it beeped in a rapid pattern and Combeferre cursed as he saw the blinking "41.2" appear on the screen. That was way to high.
When he looked up at Courfeyrac's freckled face he was shocked at the tears he saw in his friends eyes. "'Fey, what's wrong?", he asked worried.
"Hurts", the student mumbled. Combeferre wasn't quite sure if he was actually answering the question or just voicing his pain.
Suddenly a realisation let a cold shiver run down his spine. Nearly frantic he pushed the blanket away from Courfeyrac and pulled up his T-Shirt, which was completely sweat soaked.
Carefully he touched the others stomach. With only his fingertips touching the bare skin he could already feel how rigid the abdomen was. But he needed to know for sure. Quickly he searched for McBurney's point and pressed down. No reaction from Courfeyrac. He let go and in an instance wished he hadn't.
Courfeyrac let out a terrible scream, laced with pain, barely sounding human. Combeferre had never heard such a cry of pain before, much less from his friend and for a moment he swore he could feel the blood in his veins curl.
"I'm so sorry, 'Fey", he mumbled, taking off his glasses, wiping away the tears that escaped his eyes. He needed to pull himself together, if he wanted to help his friend.
With a shaking hand he grabbed his phone.
"Hello, I need an ambulance. My friend has acute appendicitis."
Enjolras rolled his eyes as Joly's phone started to ring with his classic "How to save a life"-ringtone (Courfeyrac at that time had found it incredibly funny and Joly never bothered to change it) in the middle of his speech. The med student barely looked apologetic, then answered the call.
His next words froze the room.
"Calm down, 'Ferre, tell me what happened", Joly demanded.
Speech forgotten, Enjolras jumped from the table and nearly collided with Bahorel on his way across the room. The tall man grabbed his shoulders to stop him from falling and gently steered him to Joly's side.
"We'll be there", Joly promised and hung up.
"What's going on?", Enjolras asked, fear strangeling his voice. Grantaire, who had previously been sitting next to Joly slipped his hand in Enjolras' and squeezed.
"'Ferre believes Courfeyrac may have appendicitis. He called an ambulance. They are on their way to the hospital."
Marius had already shrugged on his coat and waved at them. "I'll drive."
Fifteen minutes later Enjolras, Grantaire, Joly, Marius and Cosette burst into the full waiting room of the ER. It took them a moment to spot Combeferre. The large man was curled into himself, hands in his blond hair, face hidden. His shaking was visible from across the room.
Enjolras ran towards him and knelt down infront of him. His own discomfort of being at a hospital was forgotten when he saw how frightened Combeferre seemed. Gently he disentangled the medical students hands from his hair to hold them in his instead. Combeferre looked up at him, his eyes red rimmed, still wet, but the tears had stopped falling. His glasses were nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, what's going on?", Enjolras asked softly. Grantaire knelt down next to them and put one hand on Enjolras' shoulder and one on Combeferre's knee. He had always been close with Courfeyrac, but only after he had started dating Enjolras he had built a friendship with the oldest of the triumvirate. Over long discussions of literature they had grown to be good friends, so he was quite disturbed at seeing the other man like this.
"He's in surgery now, appendectomy", Combeferre explained, wiping at his eyes.
"That's good", Joly said, leaning on his cane behind Grantaire. "Who is doing the surgery?"
"Uh, Dr. Toussaint, I believe."
"See, there is nothing to worry about. He could do the surgery in his sleep." Joly smiled. "'Ferre, you wanna come with me and get cleaned up a bit? The others can stay here and call us, when they get news."
The other medical student nodded and let himself be led outside by his arm. Due to his forgotten glasses and the tears still swimming in his eyes, he was barely able to see what was infront of him. Joly looked around and moved them into one of the doctors offices, locking the door behind them. Combeferre let himself be pushed onto the gurney, arms hugging his knees, as he made himself as small as possible, which was quite an impossible feat with his stature. He heard Joly sigh, but then the other man gently touched his face and wiped a moist towel across his wet cheeks. When he was done, Joly sat down next to him, wrapping one arm around Combeferre's shoulder.
"Care to tell me what is bothering you so much?", he asked. It was voiced as a question, but nevertheless Combeferre knew Joly expected an answer.
He swallowed. "I dunno. I just... he was in so much pain. I didn't even think that anything was wrong, I mean, 'Fey's pain tolerance is shit. But I should have noticed much earlier that it wasn't just a stomach bug. His fever was so high and he didn't recognize me ... if I had noticed sooner, how bad it was I could have spared him so much pain." He bit his tongue to ground himself and to stop stuttering. It was a habit that resurfaced everytime we was scared, eventhough he had had a lot of speech theraphy when he was a child.
Joly squeezed his shoulder and remained silent for a moment, thinking.
"You shouldn't blame yourself, 'Ferre. Yes, Courfeyrac exhibited signs of appendicitis, but also that of a stomach flu. His pain tolerance is low, everybody knows that, so why should you have jumped to conclusions? It was perfectly logical to think it was something harmless. And anyways, nothing happened. He's going to be fine. The appendix didn't even burst, did it?"
Combeferre shook his head.
"See? You noticed soon enough."
"I know, still it's so different when it is somebody you love." He quickly bit his tongue. That wasn't supposed to slip out. He was very much aware that he flushed red, but hoped that Joly understood the word in the platonic sense he definitely didn't mean.
"I think I am about to win a bet with Enjolras", Joly grinned.
"What?" Combeferre whipped around to look at the other medical student. Well, the blob of brown hair and face that he could see.
"Enjolras bet that Courfeyrac would slip up before you", Joly answered nonchalantly.
"Slip up?"
"About your relationship?"
"There is no relationship except for friendship!"
Joly laughed. "Yeah, right."
"No, really."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Do you want that to change?"
"I am not gonna dignify that with an answer."
Joly squealed and pulled him even closer. "Enjolras is still gonna pay up."
Enjolras and Grantaire meanwhile had sat down on the other side of the waiting room, while Marius sat down on Combeferre's vacated chair, Cosette perched on his lap. While neither Enjolras nor Grantaire were particulary heavy, Cosette was positively tiny and none of them trusted the plastic chairs to hold too much weight. So they had found the last two empty chairs, which were luckily next to each other. Enjolras slipped his hand into Grantaire's, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. It wasn't comfortable, with the armrest digging into his side, but he was already beginning to feel anxious about the whole hospital situation.
Grantaire to his credit just squeezed his hand and kissed his forehead.
Minutes ticked by, slowly as if they were drenched in honey, clinging to the one before, reluctant to move foreward. Enjolras felt like a fly caught in the honey, nervousness buzzing in his system. With every passing second his breathing seemed to get faster and faster. Ants were climbing across his body, but when he opened his eyes he could only see the stark white walls closing in on him.
They hadn't been there for even fifteen minutes, when Enjolras stood up and excused himself to the bathroom, practically sprinting out of them room. Grantaire waved at Marius and Cosette, then followed his boyfriend outside. Once he left the waiting room, he was already unable to locate Enjolras but he had a feeling he knew where the other man was.
Reaching the small park surrounded by the hospital buildings, he spotted a blond figure trembling on a bench. Carefully he approached, not wanting to frighten his boyfriend.
"Hey", he breathed and knelt down next to Enjolras. The young man didn't react, eyes wide open staring at nothing.
Grantaire tried another tactic. "Where are you?"
"My mom's hospital room", Enjolras answered, breathing wrecked.
"No, you're not, love. We're in the park. Don't you smell the flowers?"
"I can only smell blood", Enjolras mumbled, still trembling.
"There is no blood here, baby", Grantaire said and stood up. He had an idea. Quickly he moved towards the rows of flowers planted a few meters away and picked a purple flower with a strong, pleasant smell that Jehan could probably identify. He walked back towards Enjolras and held the flowers infront of his boyfriend's face.
"Take a deep breath in", he instructed and Enjolras did.
After a few seconds he asked: "R?"
"It's me, Apollo. You with me?"
Enjolras nodded, exhausted. Grantaire sat down next to him and pulled him into his arms.
"Do you want to talk about it? This is the second time you freaked out at a hospital in my presence. And this is the second time we are in a hospital together", he offered.
Enjolras swallowed and buried his face his Grantaire's shoulder. For the moment the artist just entertained himself with playing with Enjolras' curls. The blond took a deep breath and then started.
"My maman died in a hospital", he whispered. "Before her death she was in and out. Psychiatric ward for her depression. I was about six I think, so I didn't really understand why she suddenly didn't care about me anymore. My father he visited her daily, but I rarely was allowed to come. So mostly I stayed at home with my aunt. One day, my father took me with him after I had begged for hours the day before. He had gone to the bathroom before we wanted to go inside, but I was impatient. I hadn't seen her in over two weeks then. So I went into her room, when nobody was looking. There was so much blood. She ... she had slid open her wrists with a razor blade no one had noticed she still had. That was the last time I saw her. My father blamed me for it. I know it's wrong. But her death drove him to his workaholic tendencies and his cold shoulder towards me. His alcohol consumption." He laughed bitterly. "My maman had been depressed for a long time, before I was even born. But then she had post-partum depression. It was better, when I was in kindergarden, she was a normal loving mom then. But suddenly when I went to school it got worse again, till she..."
He sobbed, shoulders shaking. Whatever Grantaire had expected to hear, this wasn't it. He pulled Enjolras close, shushing him, but staying silent otherwise. There wasn't anything he could do or say to comfort his boyfriend. Still he wished he could take the pain away.
The moment Combeferre and Joly reentered the waiting room, Dr. Toussaint entered from the other side. "Family and friends of Réne de Courfeyrac?", he called.
"That would be us, Dr. Toussaint", Joly called and pulled Combeferre with him towards the older doctor.
Marius and Cosette stood up as well, walking over hand in hand.
"Well, that's a surprise", the doctor smiling. "Anyways, René is in the recovery room. His medical proxies can see him."
"That's me", Combeferre said, "how is he? How was the surgery?"
"The surgery went fine", Dr. Toussaint answered, "come with me, Étienne."
Joly started to laugh at that. "I'm sorry, Dr. Toussaint. Combeferre, here, forgot his glasses at home. I believe you might have to physically lead him." The doctor laughed as well, Combeferre just looked put out, but didn't protest.
A few minutes later, Combeferre sat on the hard chair next to Courfeyrac's bed, waiting for the elementary school teacher student to wake up. He didn't have to wait long. Slowly Courfeyrac blinked his eyes open.
"'Ferre", he mumbled sleepily. "Hey, 'Fey", Combeferre answered, gripping his friends hand a bit harder. "How do you feel?"
"Urgh."
"Yeah", Combeferre laughed gently.
"You make it better though", Courfeyrac whispered, definitely out of it. "Love you."
Combeferre nearly choked. "Uh, I love you, too, 'Fey."
"Kiss me?"
"I will, when you are very much awake and able to consent", Combeferre promised. He hoped that Courfeyrac rather forgot the whole exchange. Everything else would be very awkward. He would have to emigrate in that case. Somewhere very, very far away.
Courfeyrac fell asleep again. An hour later he was brought up to one of the normal rooms, after the nurses realized that while Courfeyrac had a rather strong reaction to the anesthesia, he would just continue sleeping.
When he woke next Combeferre was still beside him, though asleep in the chair. Courfeyrac took a moment to study the other man. His hair was dishelleved, his glasses were still missing and he looked exhausted, but peaceful nonetheless. When he realized Combeferre must have spent the entire night asleep in the uncomfortable chair, eventhough he could have gone home or slept in one of the on-call rooms, he fell even more in love with him. He admitted that freely to himself, but he would never dare to voice that thought aloud to anybody else.
He was so lost in staring at their interlinked hands that he didn't notice Combeferre wake up.
"Good morning", the medical student whispered, voice hoarse from sleep.
"Morning", Courfeyrac answered, trying to act like he hadn't stared at the other man before. Luckily he didn't blush easily.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better. Stomach hurts barely anymore. Stitches are itching though."
"That's good."
They were silent for a moment, till Courfeyrac suddenly remembered the conversation from yesterday.
"Please tell me, I didn't ask you to kiss me!" Courfeyrac said in horror, even if he really wouldn't mind.
Combeferre turned very red. "Ug, yes, you did."
Courfeyrac did have an idea at that. And seeing Combeferre uncomfortable in this situation was objectively very funny. "Well, I remember that conversation. So I do get a kiss!"
He didn't think it was possible, but Combeferre got even redder as he leaned forward to touch their lips against each other. With confidence he wasn't sure where he got that from Courfeyrac put his fingers in Combeferre's hair and deepened the kiss. Combeferre didn't object.
He could die content now, both decided at that moment.
That was when the door opened.
Enjolras and Grantaire had spent the night at Grantaire's apartment, just content to hold each other, but now wanted to visit Courfeyrac and hopefully send Combeferre home to sleep.
In the hallway they met Joly, who was on shift.
"Enjolras, my man", the doctor called grinning.
"What is going on?", Enjolras asked, a bit scared. Joly was terrifingly happy for a time before 10 o'clock in the morning.
"You owe me 20 bucks", Joly said in a sing-song voice.
"No way!", Enjolras protested. "Really?"
Joly gestured them to follow him to Courfeyrac's room and opened the door. What he saw, none of them expected. He came to a stop abruptly in the doorway. Enjolras who had been barely a step behind him prompty collided with his back. And Grantaire who hadn't been able to stop in time as well, made them all tumble over.
Combeferre and Courfeyrac pulled away from each other at the intrusion and stared open-mouthed at their friend sprawled across the floor.
Enjolras was the first one to find his voice and just sighed. "How exactly do you win?"
"Combeferre first slipped up. He told me he loved Courfeyrac", Joly exclaimed.
"You what?", Courfeyrac stared open-mouthed at Combeferre. "When was that?"
"Uh, yesterday. When you were in surgery..." Combeferre shrugged. He had been embarrassed enough for one morning too care about it anymore.
"So how long have you been together?", Grantaire asked, pushing himself up, using Enjolras shoulder as a crutch, which made the blond crash to the floor again.
"We ... uh, five minutes?", Courfeyrac said, with enough high reflection at the end of the sentence to make it sound like a question.
"Ha! So they weren't together when 'Ferre confessed!", Enjolras exclaimed exited. "So nobody wins! Now, help me up, R, you menace."
Instead of helping his boyfriend however, Grantaire just helped Joly up and handed him his crutch, which had slid across the floor when they all fell.
"You okay?", he asked the med student. Joly just sighed.
"Except for the fact that I just lost all hope of getting 20 bucks, yes."
"Soooo, nobody of you minds?", Combeferre asked a bit nervous.
"Why would we?", Enjolras countered, pushing himself up from the ground.
"Fair enough", Courfeyrac shrugged.
"Well, I guess, congratulations", Grantaire said laughing.