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Are You Fucking Kidding Me?!

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It was a very beautiful and perfectly warm Saint Patrick’s day, and apart from the people wearing silly plastic jewelry over obnoxiously green shirts with slogans, the day was normal. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were walking down the street blissfully, the latter unknowingly swinging their joined hands between them.

Combeferre’s peacefully content smile hadn’t been broken once since the morning. He glanced at his partner, felt a small rush of affection, and squished his hand softly.

"Anything else you wish to do here, Birthday Boy?" he asked. Courfeyrac squished back.

"Not particularly, but it’s nice just walking. D’you wanna go home?"

"Nah." And that was that.

They continued walking and occasionally bumping their shoulders together. After a while, Courfeyrac let go of Combeferre’s hand, and instead wrapped his left arm around his waist, resting his head against the other’s. Their walking became a little wonky and a few people rushed past them, but they didn’t mind in the least.

Happy St Paddy’s day!" a random citizen called from across the street.

"And you! It’s my birthday!" Courfeyrac yelled back.

Happy birthday!


"Your mouth is right next to my ear, studmuffin," quipped Combeferre. "I think you just damaged my eardrum."

"It’s okay, snugglebutt, we’ll get you another one. Two, if you want. Anything for you, babycakes."

"Anything for you," he said lovingly and much more truthfully. Courfeyrac bit back a sugary sweet smile.

"Liar. You won’t let me adopt a dog."

"It’s not permitted in our apartment."

"But you still won’t let me get a dog. I want to adopt a dog with you," he whined. Combeferre buried his left hand in his pocket and quickly drew it out again, holding something in his fist.

"Anything for you," he said as he opened his hand to reveal a key ring with three keys attached. None of them were familiar to Courfeyrac.

"What is this…"

"That one’s for the fence, the middle one’s for the front door, and that one’s for the back door to the patio."

"Oh, my god."

"With the yard and the patio, we could easily get a Labrador."

"Ferre…" he stopped walking. Combeferre stopped with him, and handed him the keys. Courfeyrac took them numbly. "What—"

"It was for rent and within our budget," shrugged Combeferre as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about the situation, but he was smiling just a little bit, and his eyes were positively dancing behind his glasses. Courfeyrac glanced between the keys and Combeferre repeatedly, before settling on his partner.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Combeferre’s discreet smile finally spread out. “Well, you really wanted that dog and… well, me too, I guess.”

In all the years he had known him, Combeferre had never seen Courfeyrac so speechless. He took that as a good sign and leaned forward to kiss his temple gently.

"Yeah?" asked Courfeyrac after another few seconds.


"We have a house?" his voice started getting higher.

"Well—not really; we’re renting one—"

"We can get a dog!

"Yes, we—"

"Are you fucking kidding me?! We can have a dog in our fucking house with a fence!" he grinned and took Combeferre’s face between his hands, squashing it only very slightly. Combeferre was still grinning and laughing in joy.

"Wanna go see it?"

"Dude." He pecked the other’s lips somewhat roughly and drew him in for a bear hug that was very enthusiastically returned. "I fucking love you."


They stood there hugging in the middle of the street for another long minute.

"Let’s go see our house. And then we’re going to a dog shelter," said Courfeyrac as he started pulling Combeferre by the hand in the direction of the parking lot they left the car in.

"As you wish."