my beautiful friend you got TREAT! for a while i kicked around a draft for part 2 of you never have to wonder, following the same story but from other povs. here's a little tidbit from courf's pov (exr and c/j):
The day before the wedding, he goes over to Jehan's place under the pretense of rehearsing his best man speech. Ever since Marius moved in with his fiancé and Courfeyrac started living with Combeferre instead, he's had more and more excuses to hang out at Jehan's-- med school keeps Ferre out of the house, and he hates a quiet apartment.
It doesn't take long to get on the subject of the new development with Enjolras. Insufferable gossips, all of them.
"R's staying at his place this weekend," Courfeyrac tells him from the sofa. "No one's sure how that happened."
Jehan's watering sunflowers in a hand-painted clay pot. A few sequins woven into his thin sweater sparkle in the light from the open window. Grantaire can call Courfeyrac a twink all he wants, but Jehan will always out-gay him. "Are they in love?" he asks, casual as anything.
Courfeyrac's too startled to play dumb. "How'd you know?"
He just smiles, small and secret. He taps his index finger against his temple and goes back to his sunflowers. If Courfeyrac had any of the poetic ability Jehan does he'd think something about that, like how the sunflowers tilt their faces toward him because he's like sunshine, a beautiful little sunbeam in his life, but the metaphor comes out clunky and maybe it's the law degree but his brain's never been beautiful the way Jehan's is, and fuck but he loves him, like, it's completely bananas how much he loves him, it really is.
"You're a crafty one, Prouvaire," he says. "Don't tell anyone. Enj is pretty...tortured about it."
Jehan turns and looks at him before he says, with great gravitas, "I wouldn't dream of it." As if he were, like, a regency heroine. God.
"I don't know why he should feel so awful about it, though."
"It's complicated," Courfeyrac says. "Guess he's worried he'd...I dunno. Be bad at it."
He and his watering can have moved on to a spindly tomato plant. Without looking up, Jehan says, "He wouldn't be."
"I am." He smiles and it's a simple, beautiful thing. "He's full of love. Pass me the clippers, would you?"
Everyone pls read this fic by my beautiful friend @macklesufficient 💜💛 both this excerpt, and the original, because her writing will change your life in the best way 💖
