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Courfeyrac is stretched across the mattress, duvet bundled underneath him, his face buried into a pillow. The bed is in front of a large window, and Combeferre likes the way the light paints highlights of copper into Courfeyrac’s curls. He’d woken early, like he always did, and pulled up the blind so he could read. He’d soon learnt that no amount of natural light could wake Courfeyrac, but the yellow glow of a single electric lightbulb would summon him from the depths of sleep in seconds, muttering and blearily glaring at Combeferre until he’d been placated with coffee.
This morning Combeferre had found himself unable to concentrate on his book, and instead watched the morning light trail along the curve of Courfeyrac’s spine, at first a thread of silver, purple at the edges, and now a warm band of gold. Eventually, Courfeyrac rolls over and grins sleepily at Combeferre. His face is imprinted with the creases of his pillow, and Combeferre leans over to gently trace his finger along one of the red lines on Courfeyrac’s cheek “About time, sleepy.”
Courfeyrac glances at the clock on the bedside table next to him. “It’s only just after nine, that’s impressive for me.” He stretches and yawns, then grabs the packet of cigarettes next to the clock.
“Smoke out of the window,” Combeferre gestures towards two suits hanging up nearby “Enjolras won’t be happy if we both get to the conference smelling like an ashtray.”
Courfeyrac rolls his eyes, but smiles fondly as he stands on the bed to lean out of the window, gazing down at the street below “Maybe the residual traces of nicotine would calm him down.”
“You might want to put some boxers on,” Combeferre teases “not everyone wants to see you naked on their way to work.”
Courfeyrac shrugs and taps his cigarette against the window frame, sending a flurry of grey ash flakes spiralling into the breeze “They shouldn’t look into other people’s apartment windows, then.”
Combeferre half-heartedly throws a pillow at him “Does anything ever embarrass you?”
For a few moments Courfeyrac stares ahead silently, forehead creased, and takes a few more drags on his cigarette before stubbing it out and flicking it onto the windowsill. Combeferre is about to retract his words, say that he was only joking and pull Courfeyrac down onto the bed, but Courfeyrac suddenly turns towards him and says “Embarassment is possibly the most stupid emotion that humanity learns to value.” he pulls a hand through his tangled hair “when we’re kids we don’t give a shit about things like nudity, but suddenly we’re taught that we have to, and we become hyper-aware of this ridiculous notion called embarrassment. We avoid doing new things and talking to new people, we’re suddenly held back in everything by embarrassment. In fact, most of the time people aren’t actually too stubborn to change their minds and accept new ideas. They’re just too embarrassed to admit that they were wrong in the first place. Everything would be so much easier if humanity could get over the absurdity of embarrassment.”
Combeferre stands up next to him and squeezes his hand “Refine that a bit and you could pitch it to Enjolras as a speech idea.”
The tension in Courfeyrac’s shoulders ease and his frown melts away “‘Society held back by the pathetic embarrassment of its leaders’, I think he’d like that.”
“It’s definitely belittles them enough.” says Combeferre, leaning his chin on Courfeyrac’s shoulder.
Courfeyrac nudges him playfully “You’re not wearing anything either, y’know, people can see...”
“I was aware.”
Courfeyrac pulls them together with a happy laugh that Combeferre soon muffles with a kiss.