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Courfeyrac hated to see his friends out of sorts, and there was no denying Combeferre's recent melancholy. Their philosophical friend was not given to strong turns of emotion, lest it be for political discourse. And even that had been lacking lately—at the last of their meetings, Combeferre had hardly spoken, and afterwards Enjolras had turned to him, his normally imposing face gone gentle, and said, "Courfeyrac, could you find out what ails him?"
Courfeyrac set himself to his task with dedication. The following day he sought out those among their number in Combeferre's closest circle of friends. Joly, Courfeyrac knew, studied often with Combeferre, and though neither man was given to vice he had known them to share a cigarette on occasion. Jehan at times idolized Combeferre's philosophy, at the same time taking an even gentler view. Whenever Jehan's choice of waistcoat or trousers drew mockery, he was often seen to be studying Combeferre closely, and the following day would show up in a cravat of the same pattern they had seen on Combeferre the day before. Combeferre never minded except to pay Jehan a warm smile, which would then elicit a blush in their poet friend.
Courfeyrac gathered them at an airy café. "Friends, it has fallen to us to discover why Combeferre has grown so morose of late, and to offer up solutions if we can," he declared.
Joly was quick to offer his medical opinion. "Perhaps his mood is a symptom…is it possible he ate something which disagreed with him? An injury might be troubling him, or perhaps the pressure in the air these last several days. I have felt a headache coming on myself."
Courfeyrac shook his head, the more to settle Joly's fears. "Combeferre is not one to hide an injury, and he has shown no other indications that his digestion might be troubled."
"You say he is in an ill humor. An imbalance of the humors may be just the problem," Joly said, nodding sagely. "Why, he need only rearrange his furniture so that it reflects the magnetic poles of the earth."
Jehan spoke up. "It is not humors that bother him, but his heart. He is heartbroken, can you not see it?"
They turned to Jehan, waiting for him to continue.
"He spoke to me of it, but not openly among our friends," Jehan explained. "He had a sweetheart, some time ago. They cared for each other, but he didn't think the time was right for marriage, not with the possibility of civil unrest so near. She married another last week. He…he holds no ill will towards her, I know, but he is still saddened."
They fell silent a moment. This was a more troubling matter, and one not so easily fixed.
"In situations such as this," Joly said delicately, "it can be seen as callous to remind someone that they will find love again, especially in such uncertain times."
Courfeyrac nodded agreement. "Rather, I would have him know that he can find comfort in the companionship of friends."
Courfeyrac's thoughts wandered to the sort of comfort that might be offered among friends. He was not one to blush, but he saw that the others were of like minds; Jehan's cheeks colored a moment later.
"Even if one has a woman's love, the company of a friend can be just as fulfilling," Joly said, and Courfeyrac smiled inwardly.
"I would happily offer Combeferre my attentions, if I did not worry he might think me disingenuous," Courfeyrac said.
"I as well," said Jehan.
Courfeyrac saw Joly deliberating a moment. He knew of Joly's attachment to Musichetta and Bossuet, but did not know how exclusive their arrangement was. Finally, Joly said. "I would have to…confer, before I committed myself. But in the spirit of friendship, I don't believe there will be an issue."
"A splendid idea," Courfeyrac said. "Those of us able and willing shall meet again this evening, and we can present our offer to Combeferre."
--
Combeferre's face was somber when he answered the door, but it brightened somewhat on seeing his friends.
"May we come in?" Courfeyrac asked.
Combeferre had a modest suite of rooms. It suited him; he was not one to indulge in excess. Once inside, Combeferre turned to face them again. Courfeyrac noted the dark circles under his eyes.
It was Jehan who spoke first. "We are all worried for you, Combeferre. I know you have been sad for a time…since the woman you cared for married another."
Only from Jehan could such words not sound like a blow to one's pride. Even so, the corners of Combeferre's eyes tightened, and his frown deepened. "It is not only for that I have been troubled. Eloise…I had suspected for some time things would not work out, and we were separated long before her nuptials. No, my recent mood…"
Combeferre trailed off, and Joly opened his mouth, probably to talk about humors and suggest moving the furniture to improve circulation. Courfeyrac gave him a look, and his mouth closed again. At any rate, Combeferre looked as if he was about to continue.
"It stems from loneliness, if you must know. It has been…some time since I found myself in the physical company of another. And while I know such companionship is easy to be found with someone of your disposition—" that was directed at Courfeyrac, though there was no insult in Combeferre's tone. "—for myself, it is more difficult. Normally it is not even an issue. I am content in my solitude. It was just that, with the wedding announcement—"
Jehan nodded. "I understand you. Which is, in part, why we came here tonight. We—"
He cut himself off, color rising in his cheeks, and Courfeyrac took pity.
"We wanted to offer, if you are not adverse, that you may take comfort in the company of any one of us," he said simply. No crude words. No innuendo.
Combeferre took in the seriousness of their expressions. He looked stricken.
"I couldn't possibly—"
Courfeyrac tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. Of course, just because he was happy to bed man and woman alike, that was not the same for everybody, nor should he expect it. Combeferre preferred the physical intimacies of women, and now it was clear that interest was exclusive.
"I understand, of course," Courfeyrac said, too quickly. "Think nothing of the forwardness of our offer, we'll just—"
"I couldn't possibly choose," Combeferre said. His mouth snapped shut, as if embarrassed, but then after a moment he continued, "You are all very dear friends, and I wouldn't seek to create ill will by seeming to show preference to any of you. I…I cannot pick."
Oh. Oh. A smile crept over Courfeyrac's features.
"Well then," he said, "You shall just have to have all three of us at once."
From the look on Combeferre's face, he was very much interested in that idea, but his face went a deeper shade of red than even Jehan's, and he stammered out, "No, I can't ask you to—"
"Who said anything about asking? We are offering," Courfeyrac insisted. "And if that is what you want—" he let the word sink in, because he could see plainly in Combeferre's face how much he wanted it, "—then I see no reason why we cannot oblige."
Courfeyrac glanced once more to his companions, making sure they were still on board with this. Their faces were agreeable, and as Combeferre looked to each of them in turn, whatever excuses he had made for himself weakened.
Combeferre swallowed. "I—yes, I would like that. Though I admit I am not versed in the mechanics of…multiple individuals sharing the same bed."
Courfeyrac turned to Joly. "I look to your expertise in such matters," he said, winking.
Joly laughed—a light, joyful sound—then said to Jehan, "Help me move the mattresses from the bed to the floor. With four of us, we would not want to risk injury. Courfeyrac, get a tallow lamp."
Combeferre had a lamp on his desk, a metal dish filled with tallow and a burning wick. Courfeyrac extinguished the flame, then carried the dish near where there the mattresses had been laid out. Combeferre still seemed somewhat withdrawn, and Courfeyrac stepped close to him, until they were a hands-breadth apart. Gently, he removed Combeferre's glasses, setting them on the nearest horizontal surface. Then he took Combeferre's face in his hands.
"Smile, Combeferre. You have friends who care for you, who would see laughter and joy in your eyes. Life is too short to spend it sullen."
Combeferre smiled then, and Courfeyrac leaned close to kiss him. The mouth beneath his was shy, and Courfeyrac did not try to rush the kiss, until Combeferre made a hungry noise, his lips parting. Courfeyrac's tongue slid past those lips, teasing and tasting.
A hand touched Courfeyrac's shoulder, and he drew back. It was Joly. He kissed Combeferre next—brief, open-mouthed kisses that had Combeferre leaning forward for more. Then Jehan was at Combeferre's other side. He had already undressed, and seemed unashamed of his own nudity. When he kissed Combeferre, it was with a careful deliberation of someone wanting to understand every aspect of the kiss, so as to know how best to elicit a reaction.
Courfeyrac could see the bulge in Combeferre's trousers, and with his attention otherwise currently occupied, Courfeyrac used the opportunity to divest him of his clothing. The others joined in quickly, and in the space of a few moments, they had Combeferre completely undressed. Combeferre groaned, fumbling at Courfeyrac's waistcoat with one hand, at Joly's cravat with another.
"Not—not fair," he said, breathless. His lips were kiss-flushed and full. Courfeyrac imagined how they would look wrapped around one of their cocks.
Jehan gave an impish smile, drawing Combeferre towards the mattresses on the floor while Courfeyrac and Joly undressed. Courfeyrac checked the tallow, just about the right temperature, while Joly took up a place on the mattress. His fingers reached out to trace lightly at different points on Combeferre's bare torso, drawing light gasps and breathy noises that were going straight to Courfeyrac's cock. Combeferre's too, from the way it curved up, leaking against his belly.
"How would you like us?" Joly asked. Jehan combed gentle fingers through Combeferre's hair as he considered this.
"As I said…I'm not sure which, ah, positioning would make the most sense," Combeferre said, and it was unclear at this point if the flush in his cheeks was from embarrassment or his aroused state. "But I have no objections to performing certain sexual acts, or having them…performed upon me."
Courfeyrac had to bite down on the inside of his cheek, images flashing through his head at all the ways the four of them might take pleasure in one another. He almost missed what was said next by Joly.
"Have you ever been on the receiving end, a tergo, as it were?"
Combeferre's flush deepened, and the muscles of his thighs twitched, legs falling open. "I haven't," he said finally, "But I would like to try it."
The three of them looked at one another, and an unspoken decision was reached. Joly nodded. "Courfeyrac, the tallow," he said. "Make sure you use a liberal amount, more than you normally would. And follow my instructions."
Courfeyrac had done this his fair share of times, but he was happy to move at Joly and Combeferre's pace. It thrilled him all the more, receiving instruction and carrying it out accordingly. Jehan continued to smooth Combeferre's hair back from his face as one of Courfeyrac's slick fingers travelled the crease of Combeferre's buttocks. At Joly's nod, Courfeyrac pressed the finger in.
Combeferre gasped, and Courfeyrac had to take an even breath. Combeferre was tight, and it would take some time before he was stretched enough to accommodate anything like a cock in his ass.
"Move it slowly," Joly said, "In an out, matching time as Combeferre breathes. Combeferre? How is that?"
Combeferre nodded, his breathing somewhat ragged but steady all the same. "Fine, I'm fine."
Joly kissed the side of his neck, one of his hands moving down to Combeferre's abdomen. There, the fingers splayed wide, an anchoring presence. It was also, Courfeyrac realized, to determine how tense Combeferre was.
"Keep going," Joly said to Courfeyrac. "Just the one finger for now, until he becomes accustomed to it."
"You're doing wonderfully," Jehan said, leaning down to kiss Combeferre's forehead.
Combeferre seemed to glow under the praise, and he even seemed to relax a bit. Courfeyrac did as Joly bid, moving his finger in time with Combeferre's breathing. It was enough to ignore his own need, for now, and focus solely on the way Combeferre seemed to come undone beneath all of their affections.
"More tallow," Joly said. "And another finger, I think."
Combeferre whined as the second finger pressed deep. His cock twitched against his belly, leaking more precome. Courfeyrac found his mouth watering, and he bent down, took the cock in his free hand, and licked at the head, all while the fingers of his other hand continued their gentle thrusting.
Combeferre was becoming more vocal, and Jehan eased down so he was half lying beside him, then took his face between his hands and plundered Combeferre's mouth with his tongue. Jehan kissed with a single-minded focus, like there was nothing in the world he would rather be doing, and it was easy to believe love came easily to their poet friend. He gave love freely and accepted it even more so, and was never lacking it.
Joly groaned beside Combeferre, thrusting his own cock so it slid against the outside of Combeferre's thigh. He leaned down, the flat of his tongue teasing Combeferre's nipples. Joly's hand still rested on Combeferre's abdomen, but the fingers now carded through the hair that grew thicker near the base of his cock. Courfeyrac licked the head of that cock again, thrusting his fingers deeper.
Combeferre's reaction could be heard even through Jehan's kisses. His torso arched upwards, hands coming up so one tangled in Joly's hair, the other dragged blunt nails on Jehan's back. Courfeyrac grinned, even as he teased Combeferre's cock again. He could only imagine the overload of sensations, having that many mouths plying and teasing you. He drew his fingers back, crooking them, seeking out that spot within that made pleasure spark and sing along nerves.
Combeferre cried out, his mouth breaking away from Jehan's. He went tense, and Courfeyrac was prepared. He sealed his mouth over the head of Combeferre's cock, sucking just as it pulsed over his tongue. He swallowed it all with the ease of practice, catching a stray drop with his tongue as he pulled off.
"Gently, gently now," Joly said. "He'll be sensitive."
Courfeyrac grinned smugly, slowing his fingers down again to a teasing drag while Combeferre let loose a stream of unintelligible words, only the last few of which could be made out.
"—pleaseplease need it, I'm ready, please, fuck—"
"Shhhh." Jehan mopped sweat from his brow. "You're so beautiful…just a bit longer."
"We want to make sure you aren't hurt during this," Joly said. To Courfeyrac, he added. "One more."
Courfeyrac applied more tallow and did as he was bid. The third finger went easier than the first two, with Combeferre more relaxed now thanks to his orgasm. It had done nothing for his sense of need, however. Combeferre sobbed, desperation written in every line of his body. Joly took the chance, with Combeferre's mouth free again, to kiss those lips. All the while, Combeferre pleaded into his mouth.
"Please, Joly. Please—ready."
Joly pulled back, nodding. "You are ready. Courfeyrac, help me turn him over."
They manhandled Combeferre until he was on hands and knees. He trembled from overstimulation, but Jehan cradled his face and murmured encouragements as Courfeyrac finally, finally slicked his own cock, gripped Combeferre's thighs, and pressed forward.
Even with all the preparation, Combeferre was still tight, and Joly smoothed a hand across the muscles of his lower back as he told Combeferre, "Relax, you have to let the tension out."
Whatever tension was in Combeferre's frame seemed to dissipate, and Courfeyrac sank into him until his hips were flush against Combeferre's ass. Courfeyrac sighed, Combeferre groaned, Jehan praised him and Joly said, "Again."
This time, when Courfeyrac pulled back and thrust forward, there seemed to be very little resistance. Combeferre was bracing his knees well enough as Courfeyrac drove forward, but the rest of his body had gone boneless. He sagged down on his forearms, letting out breathy pants with each forward thrust of Courfeyrac's hips.
"There, there," Jehan said, lifting Combeferre's head again.
Combeferre surged forward, gripping Jehan's hips and pinning him down. Courfeyrac was almost thrown off-balance, but he recovered quickly, resuming his rhythm as Combeferre licked Jehan's cock from base to tip, then swallowed him down as though he was starving for it.
Joly groaned at the sight before him. Courfeyrac would as well, though from his vantage point he couldn't see all of what Combeferre was doing. From the enthusiastic noises Combeferre made, and the way Jehan writhed beneath him, it was obvious Combeferre had a skilled tongue. He was, after all, a fine orator, and none had ever known him to be anything other than dedicated to a task set before him. Courfeyrac would almost feel jealous, if not for the tight heat around his cock, or the satisfied grunt Combeferre made as he thrust his hips forward again.
"He can take it faster, I think," Joly said, his hand on the small of Combeferre's back making circular motions.
Courfeyrac didn't need another invitation, as he began snapping his hips forward in earnest. Combeferre groaned, and Jehan whimpered beneath him. Courfeyrac could feel his own release approaching, and he gave himself over to it, gripping Combeferre's hips tight enough to bruise as he shuddered and came.
He remained like that a moment, Joly beside him, still massaging Combeferre's back. Combeferre had grown hard again, and Joly's cock had received little attention, but both of those for now could wait. Courfeyrac took a breath and drew back until his softening cock slipped free. A moment later Jehan let out a raucous cry, hands tangled in Combeferre's hair. He went limp, breathing heavily, and Combeferre gently extricated himself.
He sagged on hands and knees, looking back at them. Courfeyrac had never seen Combeferre look so debauched. His lips were red, shiny with saliva and the evidence of Jehan's release. His eyes were hazy and his hair a mess. His cock was flushed, hard and leaking again.
Joly moved forward. "What would you have of me?"
Joly reached out, tracing Combeferre's mouth with his thumb. Combeferre leaned forward, catching the digit for a moment in his mouth, letting it slip free from his lips, before saying, "Your cock. Fuck—fuck my mouth."
Joly drew in a sharp breath before nodding, and guided his hips forward until his cock slid into the heat of Combeferre's mouth. He moved forward gently at first, giving Combeferre the chance to grow accustomed to the weight of it, then more insistently.
Jehan had recovered somewhat, and he shifted nearer Courfeyrac on the mattress.
"We should see to Combeferre," he said, nodding at the erection which hung between Combeferre's legs.
Jehan was right. Wonderful as it was to watch Combeferre groaning, mouth slack as Joly thrust past his lips again and again, it was unfair to simply watch when their friend's other needs went unattended.
Jehan reached over, taking Combeferre's cock in his slender fingers. He began pumping it while Combeferre moaned. Joly fisted his hands in Combeferre's hair, his breathing gone ragged as he spent inside Combeferre's mouth. Combeferre did his best to swallow it all, but some mess remained as Joly drew free from his mouth.
Still Combeferre hadn't found release again. Courfeyrac grinned knowingly, dragging his fingers along the crease of Combeferre's ass. He was still slick with tallow and come. Jehan pulled on his cock while Courfeyrac pressed fingers deep again, and Joly took Combeferre's face to kiss him soundly, mouths and tongues mingling.
Combeferre did not last long. It was more with a keening whimper this time that he came, shuddering between all of them. He sagged, and they held him, shifting him gently until he was lying back on the soft mattress.
"My friends…"
"I am here," Jehan said, curling against Combeferre's side and halfway to sleeping already.
Courfeyrac and Joly sprawled on Combeferre's other side, limbs tangling. They would worry about sore spots and getting the room back in order in the morning.
"Thank you," Combeferre said some minutes later, so softly they barely heard it, before they drifted off to sleep.