Courfeyrac/Marius, 6? (Insert joke abt titling fics with TSwift lyrics because I know you)
A. Rude 😂
B. Joke’s on you because this one isn’t even a Taylor Swift song.
6. “Show Yourself” from Frozen 2.
Courfius, developing relationship, canon-era.
Marius knocked on Courfeyrac’s door, taking a deep breath as the other man opened the door. “I have come to seek your advice,” he announced.
Courfeyrac arched an eyebrow and took a step back, ushering Marius into his apartment with a sweeping bow. “Advice, hmm?” he asked as he closed the door behind them. “Advice on which of the many subjects I define myself an expert of?” He smirked at Marius. “How to woo a young lady, perhaps?”
“No,” Marius said, much too quickly. “You know there is no young lady I would wish to woo save for the one who is lost to me.”
Courfeyrac looked like he very much wished to comment on that, but instead changed tacks. “How to bed a stranger, then, to clear your mind of thoughts of the one you have lost?”
Marius cleared his throat, refusing to allow himself to get dragged into this. “Believe it or not, she is the last thing on my mind at the moment.”
Courfeyrac smiled, a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I take that as a compliment, you know.”
“It was intended as such,” Marius told him. “But no, that is not the advice I seek.”
“Then what?”
Marius could tell that the tips of his ears were starting to burn red, and he blurted, “I seek sartorial advice.”
Courfeyrac blinked. “Sartorial advice,” he repeated.
Marius nodded. “I have a...dinner this evening. With someone very important to me. And I wish to look my best, and there is no one I can think better to assist in this matter than you.”
“Another compliment,” Courfeyrac said, his voice low. “Keep that up, and I shall think you are wooing me.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” Marius asked, more to himself than to Courfeyrac, who did not seem to hear the question.
“ Luckily for you, you have come to the right place at the right time, as my laundress has just delivered the best parts of my wardrobe,” Courfeyrac told him. “I am certain we shall find something that suits you.”
“I did not mean that I should borrow your clothing—” Marius started.
Courfeyrac just gave him a look. “Marius, my darling, if you are under the mistaken belief that we shall find something suitable among the unfortunate garments you own…”
He trailed off and Marius scowled. “What’s wrong with my garments?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Courfeyrac assured him hastily as he ushered him into the bedroom. “But that does not mean we cannot do better. Now, tell me more of this dinner. With whom are you dining? That will help determine the outfit choice.”
Marius blushed. “I am...dining with someone very special to me.”
The look Courfeyrac gave him was shrewd. “I thought you had not found your young lady.”
“I haven’t,” Marius said honestly. “But just because I have not found her, and, frankly, very well may never, does not mean that I should not live my life still.” He said it with more confidence than he felt, and undercut his attempt at bravado by hesitating and asking, “Doesn’t it?”
“Of course not, as I believe I have told you many times,” Courfeyrac said. “And yet, not even a quarter hour ago, you proclaimed there was no other young woman you wished to woo.”
“A statement that remains true,” Marius said, flushing even redder before adding, like a confession, “I never said that the person special to me was a woman.”
Courfeyrac stared at him for a long moment, his expression entirely unreadable. “Well,” he said finally. “That is my lesson not to make assumptions, I suppose.”
Marius tilted his head slightly. “Yet you don’t seem surprised.”
“Oh I am surprised,” Courfeyrac assured him. “But I am certainly not disappointed.” He presented Marius with an armful of clothes. “Now go try this on.”
He shooed Marius behind the dressing screen, and Marius reluctantly began peeling off his clothes and replacing them with Courfeyrac’s. “What do you mean that you are not disappointed?”
“I assume this means we are able to count you amongst our illustrious ranks,” Courfeyrac said easily. “And while not expected, I cannot also pretend that I have not hoped it to be the case.”
Marius blushed again, grateful for the dressing screen so that Courfeyrac could not see him. His fingers seemed clumsy as he hurried to button his shirt. “Well,” he managed finally, “at least I know I shall be in good company.”
“The third compliment this afternoon,” Courfeyrac remarked. “A boy really might get the wrong idea.”
“I was referring to Enjolras,” Marius said blithely, allowing himself a small, triumphant grin when Courfeyrac muttered something ungentlemanly under his breath. “Or perhaps Prouvaire, whom I can only assume you took inspiration from for this particular ensemble.”
He stepped out from behind the screen, fixing Courfeyrac with a pointed look. Courfeyrac pursed his lips, clearly trying not to laugh. “Admittedly, it would look better on darling Jehan,” he said, tapping his chin. “Though I think that shade of purple looks quite fetching on you.”
Marius wrinkled his nose. “Even so, I think something else would be preferred.”
“Very well,” Courfeyrac said, and he handed Marius another bundle of clothes, having apparently anticipated that his first selection would not be chosen. “Try this then.”
They spent an hour like that, Marius trying on multiple outfits and dutifully parading each for Courfeyrac, both men laughing and enjoying the simple intimacy they had shared many times over in this very bedroom. Finally, though, Marius adjusted Courfeyrac’s cravat and swallowed before stepping out once more from behind the dressing screen.
Courfeyrac’s eyes widened as he saw Marius, and a slow smile spread across his face. “Well now,” he said softly. “That is much more like it.”
Marius smiled as well, turning so that Courfeyrac could see him from all angles. “So what do you think?”
“I think you look magnificent,” Courfeyrac told him earnestly. “Certain to impress your beau, whomever the lucky man may be.”
“Well,” Marius said, smoothing his vest just to give his hands something to do, “in that case, would you like to accompany me to dinner this evening?”
For perhaps the first time since Marius had met him, Courfeyrac was speechless, gaping open-mouthed at him. “Do you mean—” he managed finally, though he could not seem to complete the question.
Marius nodded, a little hesitantly. “These past few months, I know I’ve been miserable company, and I shall not pretend that I do not miss her still. But you have been steadfast throughout, and a far greater comfort than I could have imagined. Nor can I imagine my life without you.” Courfeyrac was still staring at him, and he swallowed against the panic he could feel building in his chest. And I wished to make this known to you, and though dinner would be a good place to start. I am certain that I cannot compare to the young ladies and gentlemen you normally keep company with, so I thought, if you helped me dress up to your tastes, then perhaps I might have a chance—”
“Marius.” Courfeyrac’s voice cracked, just slightly. “You have never— To go through all this, to try to dress how you think I wanted—” He shook his head. “I owe you an apology.”
Marius’s heart plummeted. “I – I should go,” he said faintly, taking an automatic step back. “I should not have – I mean, I am sorry.”
“Mon amour.” Courfeyrac’s voice was soft and a little husky, and he reached out to take both his hands in his own. “You have nothing to apologize for, just as you have never needed to change a single thing about yourself to compare to any other, because there is no comparison. You have always been the best of them, and only ever by being yourself. And if ever I have made you feel otherwise, the fault is mine and mine alone.”
He raised Marius’s hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “And to answer your original question, I would love to have dinner with you. But not dressed like this – not unless you wish to be. I shall be glad to dine with you wearing anything.” He squeezed Marius’s hands before adding, too gentle still to be in his usual roguish way, “Or nothing at all.”
Marius laughed breathlessly. “I believe we should save that for dessert.”
Courfeyrac laughed as well, pulling Marius to him and embracing him before kissing his temple. “And I do believe that can be arranged.”
For the emoji opinions meme (your call how to interpret them lol): 🤔 🤤 🤯
-Today at work I was thinking hard about a project I would like to do one day, which is an online, fully illustrated version of Les Mis. Maybe not sprinkle illustrations throughout the text, but have links to artworks within the text for as many scenes as possible. Fanwork, more official historical illustrations, some of Hugo’s own stuff, etc.
-Is this a drunk emoji? If so, last weekend I went to my first party since COVID (for vaxxed people). It was Kentucky Derby themed and I got mildly trashed on mint juleps in the middle of the day.
-My mind was blown last week when I ate Ben and Jerry’s new tiramisu ice cream! It’s so good! Totally worth the slight lactose-intolerant-based issues later. Sometimes we must suffer for a scoop of happiness in this world.
How I feel about this character: Oh Marius, what a weird nerd who means well
All the people I ship romantically with this character: Cosette and Courfeyrac!
My non-romantic OTP for this character: Also Courfeyrac! I love them.
My unpopular opinion about this character: I dunno if it’s unpopular but I do get frustrated with Marius re: how he treats Valjean before he realizes it was Valjean who saved him. I hope he and Cosette can have a long chat about that eventually!
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: That he had gotten to say a proper goodbye to his father, or that he wasn’t separated from his father at all!! It’s so sad. Imagine being left with Gillenormand, ugh.
bootsssss replied to your post “˜•ï¸ Favorite "comfort food" book?”
Can confirm-- I don't even like french toast but his was so good that I still think about it
I remember being disappointment as a kid when I tried restaurant French Toast, because it was just a big letdown compared with my dad making it. This is True Fact.
...now I kinda want to make French Toast...maybe I’ll do that tomorrow.
Can I get a Distracting Kiss for Courfeyrac & Marius?
For you? Always. Canon era? Canon era.
“What say you?”
Marius looked at Courfeyrac with narrowed eyes. “Why should I agree to this?” he asked skeptically. “I will lose.”
Courfeyrac waved a dismissive hand. “Were you battling Grantaire, perhaps, but you and I are better matched than you might realize. Besides—” He offered Marius a winning smile. “There are no losers here.”
Though Marius hesitated for a moment more, he finally nodded decisively. “Then let us engage in combat,” he announced.
“Excellent,” Courfeyrac said, still grinning, and he reached for the bottle of wine to pour them both a glass, passing one across the table to Marius. He lifted his own glass in a toast. “To victory.”
Joly nudged Bossuet as Marius clinked his glass against Courfeyrac’s. “What are those two fools doing?”
“I believe it is a drinking contest,” Bossuet told him in an undertone. “Though what they hope to accomplish...”
He trailed off and Joly shook his head slowly as he watched Marius and Courfeyrac both draining their wine. “They’re both going to end up dead.”
“Probably,” Bossuet said cheerfully. “Care to watch?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
But as the hours dragged on and the bottles drained grew steadily, Les Amis took their leave until it was just Marius and Courfeyrac, both almost falling off their chairs as they beamed wildly at each other. “My — hic — dear man,” Courfeyrac said, with some difficulty. “How do you fare?”
Marius waved a hand, almost sending his glass flying. “Well, well, well, well...” He trailed off. “What did you ask?”
Courfeyrac leaned forward. “You are drunk.”
“That is a scurrilous accusation,” Marius said.
“And yet you don’t deny—” Courfeyrac broke off, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to focus at something that had come loose from under Marius’s chair. “Wassat?”
“Nothing,” Marius said quickly, attempting to knock it back under his seat, but Courfeyrac lurched forward, almost falling on his face, though he recovered enough to grab the bucket Marius had at some point stashed under his chair.
Courfeyrac looked into the bucket, which was half-full of wine, and back at Marius, his mouth hanging slack. “Cheating!” he practically bellowed, though he looked frankly impressed at the development. “You’ve been cheating!”
“I would never!” Marius protested, but he was laughing.
“This is an outrage, sir, and I will not stand to see—” Marius kissed him, a fleeting peck to the corner of his mouth, and Courfeyrac broke off, startled. “What are you—”
Again, Marius kissed him, this time a kiss to his cheek, followed swiftly by one to his forehead. “Stop it, fiend,” Courfeyrac said, but he was laughing now as well as he struggled in vain to push Marius away without putting forth any effort whatsoever.
Marius pressed one final kiss to the tips of Courfeyrac’s fingers before sitting back, laughing. “You won two bottles ago, friend,” he said. “I warned I would not be able to keep up.”
“You could have just yielded,” Courfeyrac said with a mock pout.
“Ah, but my friend, as you are so fond of telling me, where would be the fun in that?”
Courfeyrac laughed loudly and stood, swaying only slightly, and he held his hand out to Marius. “Come, then. As the victor, I demand my spoils of war.”
Marius allowed Courfeyrac to pull him to his feet, both men staggering slightly under the influence of far too much wine. “And what spoils would those be?”
Courfeyrac tilted Marius’s chin gently upward and kissed him lightly. “That,” he said simply. “And then home to sleep before we both pass out in the streets.”
Arm in arm they staggered out of the Musain, both reeking of wine and in higher spirits than when they arrived. In the back corner of the Musain, Grantaire shook his head and made his way to where Courfeyrac and Marius had left their wine behind. “Amateurs,” he sniffed, picking up the bottle and making his way from the Musain, whistling to himself as he did.
Thank you! If I get it I’ll post pics, it’s a 2-bedroom and I would have So Much Space (and not have to share a kitchen with people who keep using my measuring cups for their protein shakes and then putting them away dirty lmao)
Courfeyrac & Enjolras and Marius & Courfeyrac for the brotp meme?
Courfeyrac and Enjolras:
who steals french fries off the other’s plate?
Enjolras. It’s completely unintentional, because he’s absentmindedly eating while talking politics with Courfeyrac, but Courfeyrac doesn’t mind.
who jokingly moves in for the kiss when someone asks if they’re a couple?
Courfeyrac doesn’t move in for a kiss, but he does wrap his arm around Enjolras’ shoulder and start telling an outrageous tale about how totally hot his boyfriend is and how they met.
who has to bust or bail the other out of jail?
I feel like this is an equal opportunity bailing-out sort of thing.
who gives the other advice/comfort about dating issues?
Given that Enjolras only has eyes for The Republic, Courfeyrac never has the occasion to give him advice. Enjolras does try to give comfort to Courfeyrac when he’s having relationship troubles, but it’s mostly by being there to listen and not to give any actual advice. (”Er…have you tried…flowers? Those are nice? I am told? I don’t really get it, but it seems to be a thing?”)
who shamelessly cheats at games by reaching over to cover the other’s eyes?
Courfeyrac, absolutely. Enjolras just sighs when he does this.
who immediately calls dibs on the top bunk?
Courfeyrac. Enjolras Likes To Be Tall, but is willing to cede it to his friend.
who starts and who wins the pillow fights?
Courfeyrac starts it, but Enjolras, with superior tactics, wins.
who says “your pants would look better on their floor” to the other’s potential crush?
Again, no one. It wouldn’t occur to Enjolras to say this, and Courfeyrac wouldn’t say this to Enjolras since Enjolras’ crush is the Republican Ideal, which does not wear pants.
Marius and Courfeyrac
who steals french fries off the other’s plate?
Marius, absentmindedly. Courfeyrac then gives him the rest of his fries.
who jokingly moves in for the kiss when someone asks if they’re a couple?
Courfeyrac. Marius turns bright red when he does it, though secretly he kind of likes it.
who has to bust or bail the other out of jail?
Marius, and he is Very Disappointed in Courfeyrac for having to do so.
who gives the other advice/comfort about dating issues?
Courfeyrac, absolutely. Or he would if Marius would just talk to him about it jeez! He has so much advice to give! So much! Some of it might not even entirely scandalize Marius!
who shamelessly cheats at games by reaching over to cover the other’s eyes?
Courfeyrac. Marius is Very Disappointed in Courfeyrac for doing this.
who immediately calls dibs on the top bunk?
Courfeyrac. Marius just side-eyes the bunkbed because why are there beds on top of each other? Is this a thing? Why would you do that? Can’t you just have the beds next to each other like sensible people?
who starts and who wins the pillow fights?
Courfeyrac starts it, but Marius, with surprising and quite frankly terrifying ferocity, wins.
who says “your pants would look better on their floor” to the other’s potential crush?
Courfeyrac. Marius replies to this with a confused, “But Cosette doesn’t wear pants.”
