Grantaire is wearing Enjolras’ scarf the next time Les Amis all meet at the Musain. Enjolras is talking with Bahorel about the film he went to see with Joly and Combeferre the night before, when Grantaire walks in, the thick, red scarf wound around his neck twice so it covers his chin. Enjolras blanks, completely forgetting what he was meant to say to Bahorel because all he can do is stare.
“I know all that we have been through in the past few day has been tough, Enjolras,” Combeferre was saying, “but I really think this will be the most challenging thing we’ve had to do.”
Enjolras put is head in his hands. “I’m so tired, Combeferre. I just … I can’t do this anymore.” He lifted his head and looked Combeferre in the eyes. “I thought that after the fight ended, things would be easier but—“
“I promise after this, we can rest. We can finally just put our feet up and relax. We’ve already lost Courfeyrac, I can’t lose you too.”
Enjolras looked over at Courfeyrac was lying almost completely motionless on the floor. His service dog, Aramis was lying faithfully beside him. “He’s already been through so much …” Enjolras’s eyes rested on the bandage wrapped around Courfeyrac’s hand. “He deserves rest.”
Combeferre nodded. “And we are going to finish this.”
Enjolras looked back at his bespectacled friend and nodded resolutely. “Let’s do it.”
“Okay.” Combeferre took a deep breath and lifted up the large piece of paper in his hands and unfolded it. “IKEA, LACK, coffee table, black brown assembly instructions. Step one … okay, what I can decipher from this picture is that we need the flat piece and—“
Enjolras looked around at the parts of the coffee table that surrounded him. “Wait, which flat piece? There are two.”
“Uh,” Combeferre flipped the instructions sideways. “The largest one because it’s the top and then the other flat piece will go under it at some point.”
twenty-four hours | enjolras/grantaire | modern au, angst, casual sex, first time | 7k | e |
Enjolras won’t admit it, but the semi-regular sex has been great for clearing his mind and letting him focus on academic and club priorities. Every meeting ends with explosive discussion concerning upcoming OkCupid dates and potential Tinder swipes, talk of in-class crushes and unattainable professors, but Enjolras only has to glance over at Grantaire. It’s not complicated.
If Grantaire is staring back, he’ll leave the door unlocked. If Grantaire is drawing, headphones in, ignoring him, he won’t. It’s simple. It’s easy. It’s ingenious. It doesn’t have to be pure.
Combeferre protesting that he is not Irish at all and he has midterms to grade, but only half-heartedly, as Courfeyrac bedecks him with cheap green necklaces and buys him a good, authentic Irish beer
Joly and Bossuet and Grantaire trying to Irish dance in a crowded bar. (Joly slips and pulls Bossuet down with him. Grantaire, inexplicably, can dance a very decent jig.)
Jehan trying to recite poetry by the beloved Irish poet William Butler Yeats but getting mixed up halfway through “The Second Coming” (“Turning and turning in the widening gyre / The falcon cannot hear the falconer … The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere / The ceremony of innocence is drowned …”) and ending up slurring his way into “Ozymandias” instead.
Enjolras and Feuilly quite happily spending the Night Out sitting in the back corner of the booth arguing about Ireland’s response to the European Debt Crisis.
Bahorel wearing a “Kiss me, I’m Irish” shirt even though, with one parent from Tunisia and one from Egypt, he is pretty clearly not even 1% Irish. (Courfeyrac tipsily obliges.)