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Courfeyrac yawned and stretched, letting his claws extend into the comforter. He looked at Combeferre, sleeping peacefully, and at the alarm clock next to the bed that Combeferre had failed to set properly. If he didn’t wake him up, Combeferre would certainly be late to his conference, and while Courf would love nothing more than to keep Combeferre here, Ferre would be unhappy. Balefully, he walked across the bed before sitting down on Combeferre’s chest. He batted at his nose gently.
“Mmf,” Combeferre said, gently swatting at him. Courfeyrac would have raised an eyebrow at him, if he had still had the anatomy to do so. Instead he pawed at the blankets and Combeferre’s face to wake him up.
When Combeferre annoyedly pushed him off his chest, Courf meowed indignantly, and let just a little claw touch Combeferre’s shoulder as he pawed at him. That got Combeferre awake, if glaring at him.
“God, you insistent cat, where’d you learn such bad cat tricks!” Ferre glanced at his alarm. “Shit!”
He pet Courf’s fur gently, giving him a scratch under the chin and a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you for waking me, Hermes. God you’re a clever cat.”
It's the little things that hurt Courfeyrac the most, now. Combeferre, calling him clever and kissing his head. Telling him he loved him. That he had missed him while he was at work.
(That was a lie. What hurt most were the nights that Combeferre held him close, when his voice was thick with tears, when he asked “Why didn’t he tell me he was going out? I should have gone with him, Hermes! I love him!” And Courfeyrac couldn’t say anything. “I love you too,” he tries to say, headbutting Combeferre gently. “I’m right here, I wouldn’t leave you, I promise,” he says, curling around his ankles and next to him on the couch. “You mean everything to me,” he says, curling up next to him on the bed at night.)
Combeferre put his duffle bag down and knelt by the door. Courfeyrac trotted over to him, meowing sadly at the bag. “I know, Hermes. I’ll only be gone two nights, I’m coming home late on Monday. Enjolras and Grantaire said they’d take care of you and play with you so you don’t break anything, okay?”
Courfeyrac did the best attempt at a pout he could, sitting just out of reach.
Combeferre sat down properly on the floor and made sad eyes at him. “Please let me say goodbye to you?”
(And that hurt, didn’t it, after hearing him cry about not having gotten to say goodbye to Courfeyrac before he went missing—)
He slinked over and allowed Combeferre to pick him up and cradle him like a baby, cooing sweet nothings into his fur. Courfeyrac nuzzled Combeferre.
Too soon he’s been placed gently on the floor, and then Combeferre is gone. He glumly jumped up onto the couch and curled up in the spot that smelled most strongly of Combeferre.
He must have cat napped for a while, because when he awoke the sun was streaming through the curtains in the way that signalled mid afternoon, and Grantaire was opening the door.
He looked at Enjolras and Grantaire over the arm of the couch. They were arguing.
“I’m just saying, Enjolras. Jehan is convinced that Hermes was human once, and that cat is scary smart so I’m not sure they’re wrong.”
Enjolras came around the couch and gave Courfeyrac a scratch on the cheek. He leaned in and purred a little bit.
Enjolras smiled at him. Even after nearly three weeks of being Combeferre’s cat, it was still weird how soft Enjolras was with him. When he was human again he was going to force Enjolras to adopt a cat, because by god Enjolras is more pleasant when he’s got a cat in his lap.
Grantaire crinkled the bag of Courf’s favourite beef jerky to get his attention.
Courf studied him.
“Now, Hermes,” Grantaire said slowly. “If you’re a person in a cat’s body, I need you to give me a sign. Courf blinked at him. Like what? What do you expect me to do? I don’t have opposable thumbs, what can I do?
Enjolras snorted at Grantaire. “He’s just a cat. A clever and sweet and precious cat, but a cat.”
Courfeyrac swished his tail in annoyance. An idea struck him. He jumped to the coffee table and pawed at the remote, aiming it at the tv, then turned it on, and, with some difficulty, opened Netflix.
He turned proudly to look at Enjolras, who was gaping.
“Holy shit, Combeferre’s cat is a person,” Grantaire breathed. Courfeyrac licked a paw imperiously. Yes, I am a person, thank you.
“Uh, Hermes, can I still call you that? Hermes how’d you get… turned into a cat?”
Courfeyrac puzzled over how to communicate “I think someone put something in my drink” without the ability to speak. Enjolras came to his rescue, saying “Yes or no questions only, Taire. Meow once for yes, twice for no. Are these terms acceptable to you?”
Courfeyrac meowed once.
“Can we call you Hermes?” Grantaire.
He didn’t see why not.
“Is that your actual name, by any very lucky chance?”
No.
“Do you think we could guess your name?”
He hesitated, then meowed three times.
“Was that a maybe?” Asked Enjolras.
Yes!
“Okay, is it a common name?”
God no.
They started guessing letters of the alphabet, hangman style.
“Is there an e in it?” Yes. “An s?” No. “An i?” No. “An o?”
Before he could indicate yes, Enjolras stopped Grantaire. “We have no idea of knowing where in the name they go, R. We have to do the letters in order.”
It took them until he indicated the fourth letter was an r to figure it out. Enjolras looked at him like he was about to cry. “Courfeyrac?” He whispered. Courf ran over to him and pressed up against him, purring loudly.
Enjolras picked up his phone, still in shock. “Combeferre? We found Courfeyrac. He’s uh. He’s been turned into a cat.”
Courf could hear Combeferre’s reaction. “What? If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were playing a cruel prank on me, but since I do know you, what the fuck?”
Enjolras blinked at him slowly. “I think this is good news? He’s been your cat, so he’s doing perfectly okay, we know that.”
Combeferre came home immediately.
Courfeyrac, selfishly glad, curled up next to him the moment he did, and watched as the strangest study session ever began. Jehan joined Combeferre, Enjolras, and Grantaire as they researched. Combeferre kept absently petting him, then profusely apologising to him, it was strange. After a half dozen rejections, Courfeyrac situated himself in Grantaire’s lap. Grantaire did not feel bad for petting him. He purred.
Eventually, hours and hours later, Jehan let out a cheer.
“I found an old spell here for reverting something changed by magic to its natural form. I suspect it was created for inanimates, but nothing in the language should be harmful if we all think very human thoughts at it.”
They gathered the ingredients, and at sunrise they were ready to perform the spell. They began the ritual, and Courfeyrac began to feel incredibly dizzy. He must have passed out somewhere in the middle, and when he came to, he lifted his hands up studying them.
“A jar. Someone give me a jar. And a doughnut.”
Combeferre picked him up off the ground and hugged him tight.
Courfeyrac laughed wetly. “I love you too, Ferre.”
Grantaire coughed. “I’m fucking glad you’re alive, but maybe pants?”