Work Text:
Courfeyrac has always been happy. Or at least that's what he tells all his friends and that's what he pretends to be.
Of course no one can truly always be happy and Courfeyrac knows that, but he can damn well try. Most days it's working fairly well and he can suppress his dark feelings and ignore the voices whispering in his head and smile instead. Smile at everyone and everything, make jokes and compliment and encourage the people around him to make them happy until finally he doesn't only ignore his feelings but actually forgets about them and feels the way his friends see him.
Some days it doesn't work out the way he wishes and the darkness inside him lulls him in and the whispering voices get louder and louder until they are a screaming mess, scratching and biting their way out of his head until he can feel the salty taste of his pushed back tears at the back of his throat.
And still he smiles.
And still he doesn't say a word, helps others to be happy and forgets about himself.
Courfeyrac doesn't cry in front of people. Not when he is upset or hurt. Not anywhere near where people can see him. He is the happy one after all, he is not supposed to cry. He is the centre of Les Amis de l'ABC and a centre does not crumble. He is the sun of Jehan and a sun cannot simply go dark. He is the one who should care for the people around him and make sure they are happy, not the other way around.
Never the other way round.
And so he holds back the tears and covers his shaking body with laughs and if his smile is a little too bright and his eyes a little too dim he hides it well enough for no one to notice.
The first time Enjolras saw him cry was after Courfeyrac's father had called, telling him his grandfather had passed away. He had gone to his room to take the call and when he hadn't come back Enjolras went looking for him only to find Courfeyrac curled up on his bed, sobs shaking his body but crying silently. Enjolras had been so shocked then, seeing one of his best friends cry, and only then had he realised that he had never seen Courfeyrac in tears before. It looked wrong, so wrong, this wasn't Courfeyrac.
But Enjolras comforted his best friend and when Courfeyrac's tears had mostly dried up he called Combeferre and the three of them curled up on Courfeyrac's bed together and fell asleep, cuddling Courfeyrac in their midst, in the centre where he belonged.
There had been other times, but very few.
Combeferre and Enjolras could have prided themselves with being two of the very small group of people that had ever seen Courfeyrac cry, but really it wasn't anything anyone would want to witness.
Courfeyrac had asked them then not to tell anyone, and his best friends kept their word but it couldn’t stop them from sending worried glances his way whenever they sensed that something was off.
Over the years they got better at seeing through Courfeyrac's half pretended happiness but they never pry, don't force him to tell them what was wrong, but at the end of the day when the three of them are back at their shared apartment they pick up what had become a tradition and all curl up together in one bed until slowly the poisonous thoughts disappear in the warmth of love friendships like theirs bring with them. Sometimes Courfeyrac tells them what is going on, if he can find the right words, if he doesn't feel too stupid and bad for feeling the way he does.
But even when he doesn't tell them does he feel so much better with his two best friends knowing how he truly feels. It lifts so much of the heavy weight off his shoulders, being with them. With Enjolras and Combeferre he doesn't have to pretend. They are so much part of him as he is himself and while he wants to be happy for them, too, he doesn't have to try, he can just be. Or not be, on some days, and it is still okay.
He could never have wished for better friends. Of course all of the other Amis are just as wonderful friends as the chief and the guide, but they just aren't them. They are not his best friends. While Enjolras and Combeferre are his siblings and maybe more than that, his soulmates, an extension of himself, the other Amis are simply some of his favourite people in the world, his closest friends and the people he would live and die for. He would do absolutely everything for all of them but Combeferre and Enjolras are the only two who are allowed to do absolutely everything for him as well.
Courfeyrac smiles the faintest smile as he thinks of his two best friends. Today is a very bad day but he has yet to crumble. He can still do this, he tells himself as he attempts to straighten his back and lift his head to seem less like the broken person he is as he walks through the streets of Paris. The sun is shining, dipping the small puddles on his way in silver and the air in warm gold but Courfeyrac can't enjoy any of this today. He isn't entirely sure yet what it is that is making him feel so glum, which of the million dark thoughts and doubts was the last bit that was simply too much.
His thoughts get disturbed when he notices a girl from his social studies class coming towards him. He gives her a tiny wave in lieu of a greeting.
She grins. “Hey Courfeyrac”, she calls, “the sun is shining! Smile!”
Courfeyrac smiles. “I'm always smiling!”, he calls back.
Courfeyrac feels like crying. He hurries past her before she can see through his pretence, feeling hot tears bubbling up behind his eyes and taking away his breath. He needs to get home as soon as possible, before anyone sees him breaking down sobbing.
After what feels like years of swallowing down tears and clawing his fingernails into his palms to stop his hands from shaking he finally reaches his apartment. He quickly stumbles into his room, locking the door behind him. Courfeyrac is not a person who locks doors but today he is not able to deal with anyone else. He doesn't want to let himself see Enjolras or Combeferre, he simply can't today. He can’t allow himself that comfort today, because he feels awful and he is awful for feeling that way and therefore he does not deserve them. Not today.
Instead he gets into bed, curls up and pulls the blanket tightly around himself. He stays like that for a long time, not moving as hot tears run down his cheeks dropping onto his pillow.
When finally the tears stop he only feels numb, completely unable to move, stuck in his head with thoughts that come back again and again and make him feel sick.
Courfeyrac wants to belong. No, he doesn't just want to belong, he wants to be needed, be important. And he hates himself for thinking so, for being so greedy. He should be glad for having such great friends that love him and whom he loves at least as much. And yet he feels as if they all could do pretty well without him. They all have someone else who is even more important. And of course he knows that he has two best friends but right now he feels as if those two best friends only have one best friend each, and in neither case is it him. He is annoying at times, awfully so, he knows that. He knows that his friends sometimes wish that he was different, was less him, just less, and he tried to change, he truly did, fewer stupid comments, less random touching, less being him in general, but Courfeyrac can't just stop being Courfeyrac. He doesn't know how to not be annoying and a bother and clingy and more of a good friend and less of a self absorbed person.
He honestly can't blame Combeferre and Enjolras for liking each other more than him. He can't blame Jehan for still loving Montparnasse as much as he does. He's quite surprised they all stayed with him for such a long time. And yet it hurts, it hurts so much. But if being a good friend means that he has to accept that there are better friends and he will have to let go of them occasionally then he will try. Sometimes he just wishes that something would happen and they actually needed him, not anyone else but him, Courfeyrac.
He instantly hates himself for that thought. He doesn't want his friends to be unhappy. He doesn't want them to come to him just because they feel bad. And yet...
And yet he longs for it, longs for being needed and actually important. He wants to be someone's most important person.
Courfeyrac curls up tighter. He is pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. He knows he should talk to Combeferre or Enjolras but he doesn't want them to know what an awful person he is, what greedy, clingy, needy person who only thinks of himself.
His phone vibrates.
After a long moment Courfeyrac can finally bring himself to pull it out of his pocket from underneath the blankets and turn it on. The bright light of the screen is glaring at him in his now almost dark room and he needs a few seconds to adjust his eyes to the brightness to be able to read the new text. It is from Jehan.
Do you want to come over? R's out and I have Peter Pan and waffles! xx
Courfeyrac just stares at the text until the screen goes dark. He knows he should go to Jehan's. It'd be a nice distraction and would force him to get out of this numb and dark state he is in. Plus he hasn't been alone with his boyfriend in far too long. Finally he turns his phone back on and types a reply.
Sorry, i still have too much to do for uni. Maybe tomorrow?
He hits send, feeling guilty even though it technically isn't a lie, he really should be doing a lot of work and preparations for university. He won’t, he knows that, but he should.
He quickly puts his phone away to get a safe distance between himself and that possible mistake he just sent. He hates being not honest but he simply can't get himself to let himself have something nice right now. For some reason he feels as if he deserves feeling terrible at the moment. As if he is supposed to have all this weight and loneliness thrown on him for being not the perfect friend he is supposed to be.
The phone vibrates again and Courfeyrac debates simply not looking at it, not answering at all but he fears that Jehan would suspect something is up since Courfeyrac pretty much always answers the second he receives a text.
The phone vibrates a third time. Hesitantly Courfeyrac picks it up again and reads Jehan's messages.
:( okay... should I come over instead? xx
Where are my kisses? xx
Courfeyrac smiles faintly.
Sorry love, i forgot them.. and nah, youd just distract me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The answer almost comes instantly.
Okay, good luck with everything! I love you xxxx
Courfeyrac curls up tighter.
I love you.
His entire body aches. He should say it back. But it wouldn't be right. Courfeyrac feels as if the love he has for Jehan plays on a different level than the love he gets from Jehan. Courfeyrac is in love with Jehan but right now he feels like Jehan doesn't return those feelings the exact same way. Saying 'I love you too' would feel like too much of a lie for the words wouldn't capture everything. The love Jehan was talking about is different than the one Courfeyrac feels. How could Jehan love him, after all? How could he ever love someone like him? Jehan might love a Courfeyrac he made up in his mind, one that is a good friend, a happy sunshine, a nice person, but that's not Courfeyrac.
love you too x, he texts back slowly. It's not the same words. It's not the same love he is talking about. Not the right one either, not right now, but at the moment he can't explain the full extent of his feelings to Jehan when Courfeyrac's mind convinces him too well that his boyfriend would talk himself out of it, would excuse himself and tell Courfeyrac that he loves him, but isn't in love with him, he’s so sorry. Courfeyrac couldn't deal with that right now. He wouldn't be able to actually have his fears laid out as facts in front of him and so he turns his phone to silent and puts it aside.
Courfeyrac turns onto his other side and shuts his eyes, gladly welcoming the full darkness of the dreamless sleep that soon pulls him into its embrace.