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"I am waiting, gentlemen."
Enjolras threw Courfeyrac a look. It was not very effective.
"I am not kissing Feuilly for your own entertainement," he said, cheeks blushing delicately. "Besides, Feuilly doesn’t look very comfortable with the idea either."
Feuilly definitely did not look comfortable with the idea of kissing Enjolras for Courfeyrac’s entertainement. In fact, he looked a little sick. Or embarrassed. It was hard to tell which - he was very pale, but his cheeks and ears were also beet red, either from fever or embarrassement, and he would not look at either Enjolras or Courfeyrac.
Courfeyrac pouted. “It’s not for my own selfish entertainement!” he exclaimed. “It’s for your health! You’ve been very stressed lately, and Feuilly had been working very hard. Kissing releases endorphins, you know, and endorphins have the ability to produce analgesia and a feeling of well-being.”
"Why do you know that," Feuilly said, sounding a little awed and more than a little curious.
Courfeyrac grinned. “Joly told me. See? Joly would agree kissing would be very good for you two.”
"Joly would mind his own business," Enjolras said through clenched teeth despite knowing very well that Joly rarely minded his own business. "As should you." In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion that were he to fold to Courfeyrac’s demands, pictures would be taken and sent to Joly’s phone, to be shared with Bossuet, and probably Grantaire, then of course to Bahorel, and Prouvaire, and everyone else. Enjolras shuddered at the horrifying thought, and Feuilly glanced sympathetically at him.
Courfeyrac affected a very hurt expression and held his hand to his chest. “I am only looking out for two of my closest friends, that’s all.”
In the end, it boiled down to stubbornness, really. Courfeyrac was incredibly stubborn, but so was Enjolras, and so was Feuilly; in the end, the stubborness of two combined won over one’s, and Courfeyrac shook his head sadly.
"Suit yourself. Don’t come crying to me when your pituitary gland shrivels and dies from lack of kissing!"
And with a final shake of his head he wandered away to greet the young Pontmercy, who had just entered the café.
"So…" Feuilly looked at Enjolras, head cocked to the side, his hazel eyes obscured by his messy bangs, and if Enjolras did not know him better, he would assume he was flirting. Only Feuilly was not very good at flirting, or so the others said, and this half-lidded look was working quite well for Enjolras. “A dried-up pituitary gland sounds rather nasty.”
"I doubt it truly would happen," Enjolras frowned, taking note of asking Combeferre about this later.
"Perhaps, but still. Would you take that chance?"
"Nobody’s looking at us anymore," Enjolras noted with some relief - after all, it was rare that nobody was looking at him.
"I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to," Feuilly said, biting his lip and almost frowning, and Enjolras rolled his eyes a little.
"Come here," he said, and Feuilly shuffled closer, taking his hand.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment before leaning forward, almost in unisson, and letting their lips touch softly.
(Feuilly’s lips were not as dry as Enjolras expected them to be, really; in fact, they were quite nice, and Enjolras was thinking of tracing them when his tongue, when -)
"NERDS," Enjolras heard Courfeyrac say from a few steps away; he made to break the kiss, but Feuilly’s hands on each side of his face held him in place. He sighed, and feeling Feuilly smile against his lips, eased gently into the kiss.