[for Combeferre] Bodyswitch aftermath

[abaisse_chef]

Enjolras was relieved to be back in his own body, more than he could say. He'd felt so out of control in Harkness' body, so unable to control urges that had been utterly alien to him. Things between him and Michael had been a bit awkward, but it seemed they had unspeakingly agreed to simply pretend it had not happened, which suited Enjolras just

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[butcivilization]

Combeferre,on the other hand, was in search of Enjolras. It was not a search he took on lightly. For the first day or so after everyone returned to normal, he had hesitated, wondered, worried - for his friend's sake as much as for himself. How would they feel about what had happened between them? Was he fretting overmuch, or would awkwardness linger?

In the end, there was only one way to find out. Once he had made the decision, Combeferre did not hesitate. Not finding him in the rec room, kitchen, or other places Enjolras frequented, Combeferre headed to his bedroom and knocked on the door.

[abaisse_chef]

Enjolras' head snapped up, his body tensing. It could be someone looking for Michael...or it could be Combeferre. He took a deep breath and said far more calmly than he felt, "Entrez," his expression wary as he watched the doorway.

[butcivilization]

Combeferre opened the door and peered in with a hesitant smile. "Enjolras." He gestured vaguely inside. "May I... well, come in?"

Now wasn't that a wonderfully articulate start?

[abaisse_chef]

Enjolras let his gaze run over Combeferre briefly before lowering it to his book with a curt nod. "Of course," he answered with a hint of dryness, revealing nothing of what he was feeling.

[butcivilization]

Enjolras was never what one would call warm, but it was not quite the response Combeferre had hoped for. "Only- if you're busy... I wouldn't wish to interrupt."

[abaisse_chef]

Enjolras sighed and shook his head, closing the book with some reluctance. Without the pretense of reading, he wasn't entirely certain where to look. "I was just reading. Come in, sit down." And now he was staring. Oh, this was just perfect, wasn't it?

[butcivilization]

Combeferre nodded once. Shoulders slightly curved, lower lip still caught uncertainly between his teeth, his entire body spoke of sheepishness, even as he sat opposite Enjolras, on the edge of Michael's bed.

"Do you know, the microscopes in the clinic are really startlingly simple. For all the advancement of technology surrounding them, and certainly their superiority, they still seem to be a matter of basic optics, as reliant on nothing more than light and lenses as a common magnifying glass. And yet, the complexity of the world they show-"

He stopped abruptly and ducked his head. "But listen to me go on."

[abaisse_chef]

Normally Enjolras would have rolled his eyes at all of that, used to Combeferre's ramblings about anything and everything under the sun. But this time was different, this time Combeferre was nervous, filling the silence in the room before it could stretch out, Enjolras was certain. He wasn't entirely sure how to take that. "Is that why you came? To tell me about microscopes?" he asked quietly, knowing the answer already but a little hurt by the obvious evasion.

[butcivilization]

"No," he admitted. "Of course not." He sighed and looked up, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped in front of him. "But I only came to say hello, so perhaps microscopes might be part of that?" He smiled that wry, self-deprecating smile that he so often wore, now half apologetic. He had only come to say hello, and look at the mess he had already made?

[abaisse_chef]

Enjolras found himself briefly distracted from Combeferre's words by that smile. It was endearing in a way he'd never noticed before. Merde, he had not wanted this, and yet here they were, and he could feel his own mouth curving into an answering smile, soft and fond. "It is you, after all, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he conceded gruffly, tearing his gaze from Combeferre's face with some effort and looking down at the book in his lap, absently tracing the embossed letters on the spine with a fingertip.

[butcivilization]

Gruff Enjolras' answer may have been, but his smile made Combeferre relax slightly. "Yes, well. I was in there earlier today, you see," he said, sounding like his more usual self. "Something like a microscope reminds us how reliant we are on the rules of Nature. Electronics," he gestured vaguely towards the room's harsh lights, "there are interesting enough, and quite useful, but it is easier to ignore where they come from and imagine that we have created their source of power out of thin air." His words no longer had the ring of those meant to only fill discomforting space.

[abaisse_chef]

Enjolras heard the change, or felt it, either way it filled him with relief. He set his book aside, stretching out his legs as he watched Combeferre, listened to his familiar prattle that had so often annoyed him as if with a new set of ears. Oh, the words themselves didn't matter much, it was the tone in which they were said, the unbridled enthusiasm Combeferre had for the entire world, for every damn thing under the sun.

When he stopped talking, Enjolras wanted to beg him to continue, just so he could listen some more, but instead he gave a faint shake of his head as would be expected of him. Above all, he wanted things to be normal between them again. This new madness, this fascination with his best friend, surely it would pass if he didn't dwell on it.

[butcivilization]

They were fine. They were going to be perfectly fine. Combeferre grinned, and it had less to do with his words or Enjolras' response in particular than the relief as the weight of worry he had been carrying evaporated. "It's true," he protested mildly, then nodded at Enjolras' book. "What are you reading?"

[abaisse_chef]

Enjolras sighed, glancing down at the book. "History, of a sort. Our history." He gave Combeferre a wry smile. "I met someone who knew of us. Of Les Amis de l'ABC. He knew of our names and our deeds." He thumped a hand down on the cover of the book and admitted, "I was looking for mention of us." It seemed conceited to say it, but truly it was only curiosity. He wanted to know how he'd been remembered.

[butcivilization]

Combeferre sat up, eyes going wide surprised and something a little like wonder. "Us? Truly?" It was mad to think of, that their little band of failed revolutionaries might have shown up in some historical tome. Combeferre had expected change, not a place for himself in history. He frowned thoughtfully, unsure what to make of the idea. "And what have you found?"

[abaisse_chef]

"Nothing," Enjolras replied with a shake of his head. "He said he had learnt of us in school, but I have yet to find mention of any of it." His brow furrowed in a frustrated glare that was directed at the book beneath his hand. "He called me a 'famous revolutionary'," he added, the glare transforming into a rueful grimace.