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When Marius first mentions that he’s started dating Cosett Fauchelevent, most of his friends are wary. The problem is this: they’re a close knit group of guys who have known each other since they were children, all going to the same university and striving for the same goals. They all come from wealthy families, but they’re not snobs. They’re outcasts, more interested in helping the poor French community that their families choose to ignore than getting shown out at debutante parties.
They’re afraid Cosette is just going to be one of those debutantes their mothers are trying to force them to court and eventually marry.
They couldn’t be more wrong.
She’s wonderful, unlike anything they’ve ever seen. Even their semi-permanent only female of the group Eponine, the girl who’s been head over heels for Marius since grade school, admits that she’s a sweet, kind soul and that even she likes her. It’s a big step. Integrating her into the group is a big step, too. It proves to be easier done than said though.
Most of them had thought that the biggest issue would be with Enjolras, Marius’ best friend. He’s a headstrong guy, with a passion for helping the poor community. His parents aren’t too happy with what he’s doing, and one could say he has almost an obsession of sorts with his little mission of raising money for shelters and trying to get his father, the head of Parliament, to pass certain laws that would benefit the lowly. He doesn’t take slacking, which means he’s constantly arguing with Grantaire – who likes to drink at all hours of the day and fuck around.
He has a stand-off with Cosette the first time they meet up. There’s glaring and Marius seems a bit embarrassed. The second time they meet though, Les Amis de l’ABC (Enjolras’s idea to name their non-profit organization that had surprisingly been supported by Grantaire – or maybe unsurprisingly) are setting up plans on the charities they plan on sending their next few donations too. Most of the other guys have fucked off and it’s just Enjolras looking over their funds and talking to important people over the phone, his Mac Book off to the side.
“Hey Enj,” Marius says, waving. Enjolras waves absentmindedly, and keeps working. Marius rolls his eyes and takes a seat, Cosette sitting beside him and looking over some papers. A hand shoots out and stops her, though. She looks up to find Enjolras glaring a bit.
“Don’t touch those,” he says calmly. “Please.” Marius is about to scold him when Cosette smiles, and oh, Marius knows that smile. It’s the smile she gives him when she knows she’s right and he’s so far in the wrong that there is no way for him to get back to the right side.
“I was going to help,” she says carefully, that smile still in place as she hooks a strand of yellow hair behind her ear.
“We don’t need help,” Enjolras says.
“Yes we do!” Grantaire calls from the back, where he’s been drinking behind the bookshelves of the study they use as their office. From where he can’t see, Enjolras rolls his eyes and looks up to the heavens, swearing to God under his breath.
“Grantaire? Would you like to be of use?” Enjolras calls to him, a condescending look on his face that Grantaire can’t see.
“Of course,” comes the slurred reply. “Shall I shine your shoes?” Cosette bites her lip to keep from laughing but Marius chuckles, earning him a glare from Enjolras.
“Get out and go away,” Enjolras snaps. “The adults are working,” he mutters to himself, looking back down at his papers. It’s silent and then there’s soft snoring. Cosette shoots Marius a look, who only shrugs and goes back to his laptop. When she looks back at Enjolras, there’s a reluctantly small smile on his face, and she wonders if he realizes it’s there. “Ah, he’s asleep.”
“Can I help?” she asks.
“With what, pray tell?” Enjolras says. “This is serious business.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “I’m studying professional business research at university,” she says calmly. “Tell me what you’re looking for and I can find it for you.”
Marius peeks up from his work just in time to see Enjolras gob smacked for a moment before he schools his features and says, “Fine. I’m looking for charities to make donations too. I need to research the twenty we have picked out and narrow them down to ten, based on need and how much of the funds we have at the moment we can separate out into all of them, equally. Can you handle that?”
She makes grabby hands at his files and gives him a sunny smile as he hands them over. “Of course. Anything else, Mr. Enjolras?” she asks, a laugh in her voice. Enjolras ignores her in favor of making another phone call and Marius is so proud of her that he can’t even put it into words. It takes a lot to get through to Enjolras and the only other person who is able to do it is Grantaire, only because he irritates the man so much.
By the time that Marius has to leave for his actual job, Cosette has migrated her seat to sit next to Enjolras and they have their heads bent together, strategizing where they would be donating and how much. They don’t even know when he leaves, but later on, Marius sends Enjolras a text asking him to make sure Cosette gets to their apartment in one piece. Then he sends a text reminding Enjolras to get Grantaire to clear out of the office before he locks him in for the night. Last time that had happened, they’d come in the morning to find Grantaire practically drowning in his own vomit. Not a pretty sight, and it had taken all of Joly’s skill to convince Grantaire to get to a hospital and to get Enjolras to calm his tits.
As much as the other man claimed that he wanted nothing to do with Grantaire, he seemed to care a lot when he did something stupid.
Marius smiles to himself and just waves a hand at his coworker when she gives him an odd look. He has a feeling his best friend and girlfriend are going to get along just fine.
After getting through to Enjolras (who has commandeered Cosette as his right hand woman when it comes to his research and funds), it’s easier to win over the others. Honestly, Marius never had a doubt. Well, not much, at least. He has faith in Cosette, of course, unconditionally. It’s his friends he had initially been worried about. But it goes fine. They love her.
He walks into their office one afternoon to find Combeferre and Cosette in what seems to be a playful, lighthearted conversation. Joly and Jehan are doing their coursework nearby and the others seem to be off on errands. Marius can only guess that Grantaire is either at a bar, passed out somewhere or, somehow by the grace of God, actually doing something productive. He decides not to get his hopes up, no matter how much he loves his friend.
When he gets closer to the others though, he notices something in Cosette’s stance that’s telling him she’s actually serious. The look on Combeferre’s face, upon closer inspection, is deadpan. Marius looks at the two of them, and then to Jehan and Joly’s smirking faces. He plops down into a seat at the table, unnoticed by the other two and makes a face.
“Are they… arguing?” he aks.
“Oh no,” Jehan says. “They’re ‘discussing the moths and butterflies.” He looks up with a frown. “And by discussing I mean arguing over which is better without trying to offend the other. From here, it sounds like Cosette is making a good argument as to why butterflies are more graceful, beautiful and better for the environment. I have no idea what Ferre is saying anymore.”
“Moth’s are more efficient,” Joly says, making a note in one of his medical textbooks, unsurprisingly still keeping an ear out for his boyfriend’s argument. “He is losing and trying to save face. If she slaps him, I won’t mind.” He doesn’t even look up and Marius has to laugh at that. He tunes into the conversation between his friend and lover and tries not to choke on the ridiculousness that it has evolved into.
“But camouflage, Lady Cosette! Camouflage! Moths have it in abundance!” Combeferre says. The muscle in Cosette’s eyebrow twitches as she gives a tight chuckle.
“Butterflies have camouflage as well, dearest Combeferre. Some even have poison in their wings so that predators will spit them out. Now what do you have to say about that?” It comes out a bit viciously and Marius has to wonder how long they’ve been arguing over this subject. By the bored looks on Jehan’s and Joly’s faces, he’s going to guess awhile.
“I – well then…” Combeferre says. He stops, floundering for information and then grudgingly starts to clap. “I admit defeat; I don’t know what else to say to convince you.”
“Whoo!” Cosette says, standing up and jabbing a fist into the air. She turns and sees Marius, and instead of looking embarrassed, she only gets a bit red and smiles wide. “I won,” she says.
“We weren’t even arguing,” Combeferre says dryly. Cosette turns to him and laughs, bopping him on the nose. Marius gets up to hug her and give her a quick kiss, which evolves into something deeper. He’s never had any shame in showing his affections in front of his friends.
“Lovely,” Marius hears behind him. He turns to find Grantaire holding a box. He looks pale, but at least partially sober. An eyebrow is up and he looks completely unimpressed.
“For once, I find myself agreeing with Grantaire,” Enjolras says, coming behind him. He gives the other man a light shove. “Now move, Grantaire. This box is heavy.”
“Noodle arms,” Grantaire says, and walks as slow as possible. He has a bright smile on his face, and Marius has to admit, he looks a lot better with it on than the drunken smirk he usually sports.
“Smile more, R,” Cosette says, ruffling Grantaire’s hair as he walks by. Grantaire ducks, chuckling to himself, and for a second, Marius thinks he sees Enjolras look at the other man fondly. Then the two of them are dissolving into another argument and Marius decides that he’s seeing things.
Marius drops Cosette off at Courfeyrac and Jehan’s flat. She’s going out with Courf to look for Jehan’s birthday present or something like that. Marius has stuff to run through with Enjolras – the man is anal about his plans, dear God – and he doesn’t mind. He trusts Courf to keep her safe. He knows they have the others on speed dial if need be.
Cosette kisses his cheek as she leaves the car, softly saying, “I love you,” before she winks and walks up the stairs to the flat. Marius can’t help the cheesy smile that comes to his face.
Throughout the day, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Cosette send him pictures of their outings. Jehan sends them several of Courf and Cosette going through clothes wracks, picking things out, their heads bent together conspiratorially as they plan things. It’s adorable, but it irritates Enjolras and makes the others laugh when he reprimands Marius for taking out his phone during the meeting.
Marius does it anyway. Some rules are meant to be broken, he supposes. They’re just planning a march, anyway. Enjolras and the others have that covered.
It’s when Marius opens the next message that he frowns. It’s a picture of Courfeyrac spinning Cosette around in the middle of the shopping outlet. That’s fine; he doesn’t care much about that. They’re super affectionate with each other, always cuddling on the couch when he works late with Enjolras and Jehan, or tickling each other silly or having pinching wars when everyone gets a bit bored and the days get bored. Marius likes that his girlfriend is friends with his friends.
What he doesn’t like is the message under picture.
Sum1 just asked how long they’ve been dating, Jehan sends him. Do not want >:(
Marius smothers a chuckle at the emoticon but frowns a bit at the message. He doesn’t doubt Cosette for a moment, he knows she loves him. Hell, she’d said this morning. There is no doubt. And he knows Courf is head over heels for Jehan. He sends back a, Pls, like either of them could leave us. 2 fab! and hopes that it calms his friend, because it’s not calming him.
Enjolras ends the meeting early, because most of them have their tasks assigned and down-pat, but also because Marius isn’t even paying attention and neither is Grantaire, too busy playing with his beer bottle and peeling the wrapper off the glass. Joly has teamed up with Eponine to hide the beer in the office, so Grantaire’s mostly sober and looking quite unhappy at the turn of events.
An hour later, Courfeyrac, Cosette and Jehan walk in, Courf and Cosette arm in arm. Jehan looks exhausted and collapses onto a couch in the back. Grantaire goes to join him and he shoves the man off, swearing in the process.
Grantaire walks back, scowling. “Who pissed in his tea this morning?” he mutters, and Bahorel chuckles a bit. Even Enjolras sneaks a smirk, of course, only when Grantaire isn’t looking. Grantaire turns to look to Cosette and Courfeyrac, both holding bags of shopping, leaning all over each other. He makes a face. “Am I mistaken, and it’s the two of you who are seeing each other?” he says blandly, rolling his eyes. An ugly look comes over Marius’ face. He’d forgotten that when in a bad mood and sober, Grantaire could be cruel.
“No one wants to hear you blather on,” Enjolras says without looking at him, signing something and passing it to Feuilly.
“And don’t be ridiculous, R,” Cosette says, brushing a kiss to Courf’s forehead when he bends down for it. She grabs her shopping and makes her way to Marius. Sitting in his lap, she wraps her arms around his neck, calming him instantly. “I’m much too in love with Marius to consider someone as whiny as Courfeyrac,” she says, looking into Marius’ eyes the whole time so he can see how serious she’s being.
“Watch what you say about my lover, missy!” Marius hears Jehan say, and when he looks over, Courf is cuddled with him on the couch. He sees that everything is fine on their end and shares a small smile with the other man. They had been stupid to be jealous for even a minute. Several of them laugh.
“Am I the only one feeling oddly bereft of affection here?” Grantaire says to the room at large.
“Yes,” Enjolras says with a straight face, only a sneaking a look at Grantaire’s face when everyone has dissolved into further laughter.
“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!” Grantaire says, sadness flickering briefly over his face as Enjolras shrugs mercilessly. Marius feels a pang of pity in his chest for his friend, but knows he’d scorn him if he made it known. “That being said, I know where the stash is!” and with that, he runs out of the room, Eponine and Joly beginning to argue on whose fault it is that he found out.
It’s comforting, because it’s familiar, and with Cosette clinging to him, her head settled on his shoulder, Marius feels more at home than he ever thought possible.
The march is a disaster.
Their group ends up getting into a scuffle with the police who are on patrol at the event they’ve crashed and it goes to shit. Grantaire throws himself into the melee with glee, Enjolras at his back, keeping others off of him. Jehan’s got a mean swing when he’s mad and Courf knows where to point him. Feuilly manages to start dragging them out of the mess when Bahorel gets slammed in the face with a billy-club. He crashes down and Marius decides it’s time to grab the others and get the hell out of Dodge.
It’s a bit hard to drag the others away and let the police deal with the up-rise of citizens on their own, but he has his friends to take care of. Most of them are bloody, and when Joly and the girls meet up with them, there’s a look of horror on their faces. Grantaire’s grinning through a gapped tooth and broken nose, looking completely pleased with himself. He’d gotten drunk and fallen asleep through the last fight they’d collectively gotten into. He’s been looking for a way to get back in for weeks.
Enjolras has a bruise coming up on his face and he’s propelling Courfeyrac forward. Jehan’s only shaken up, none the worse for wear, while Feuilly is struggling to bring Bahorel in. Joly goes for Grantaire, seeing if he can set his nose before it starts to heal on his own and a surgeon has to re-break it.
“Awh, Apollo,” Grantaire says as Joly fusses over him. “Your beautiful face has been marred.” He sounds genuinely disappointed and maybe even a bit vengeful, like he’s going to beat the shite out of whoever punched Enjolras that hard in the face.
Enjolras just lifts an eyebrow. “Shut up and get your nose fixed, Grantaire,” he says, sitting Bahorel down. “And you, put something on your face before it swells to twice it’s size and we have an actual problem.”
“I will not!” he responds. “I will wear my wounds with pride. As you do.” Enjolras tries to reason with him, pitches the biggest bitch fit in the history of it, and then gives up. Feuilly doesn’t even try. He knows better. Eponine shakes her head and makes sure Marius is fine before going to help Joly with Grantaire. He’s starting to kick and together with Enjolras, they hold him in place as Joly pushes his nose around and back into place.
Cosette on the other hand is free, and she goes to Bahorel with an ice-pack and sits beside him. Marius wants to tell her not to bother, because he’s a pain in the ass, but she only talks to him. Soft words and softer smiles, a kind hand in his. He siddles up and hears Cosette whispering.
“Take it. No one will think less of you, Rel, I swear. Look at Grantaire,” she says.
“He’s screaming like a child,” Bahorel says dryly and they both laugh.
“Not the best example, but no one will think less of him for having his injury looked at. Please take it for your face. For me?” she says and Marius sees the exact moment that Bahorel is fucked. They all really like Cosette is the problem. They want her to stick around just as much as Marius wants her to stick around, so they’ll all virtually do anything for her. Enjolras and Grantaire in particular, but Bahorel is no match for the face she’s giving him.
“For you, little bird,” he says to her, a nick-name they’ve all picked up for her, and he takes the ice, placing it over his eye. She beams, and helps him, shoot a satisfied look over at Marius as she does. He’s just as proud of her, if he’s being honest.
Behind them, Grantaire is swearing. Joly has moved on with Eponine, the two of them going off to Combeferre to see if he’s alright. Enjolras is still with Grantaire and Marius starts to head over to them, just in case they try and go at each other. Instead, he stops a bit away, watching them speak.
“Thank you,” Enjolras says, from nowhere. The surprise on Grantaire’s face is heartbreaking and Marius feels the commendation take him by surprise as well. Out of everyone, Grantaire is the last person to receive any kind of praise from Enjolras. To get it, well, with Grantaire’s feelings for the man the way they are, Enjolras completely clueless, it’s a big deal. “You came through in an emergency and supported us. You supported France. And for that I must-”
“No,” Grantaire snaps, launching out of his seat and pushing past Enjolras. He stops and then lowers his voice, turning around. “I didn’t support France. I don’t give a damn about France, or your charities. I don’t believe in this God that you pray to for help, or the churches that line our streets. I don’t believe in the men with full pockets of money that call themselves our fathers and I don’t believe in the rich aristocratic snobs that fill our coffers. And I especially, specifically don’t believe in this fantastical idea you have of France. That is not the country we live in, that is a dream, Enjolras.” Everyone is looking at them now, faces frozen in shock.
Cosette shoots him a look, and Marius has no idea how to respond, because Grantaire sounds hurt, confused and completely destroyed. Marius doesn’t know how to help. As it is, Enjolras just looks hurt.
“I don’t believe in this life that we leave, or that death will fix anything. I don’t believe in anything, it seems!” Grantaire says. “You’ve said it yourself a million times, Enjolras. But do you know what? There is one thing that I believe in. I believe in you. I believe in you because you do believe in all of those things, and because you find it so easy to believe in them, when I cannot.”
Grantaire shakes his head. “I didn’t support France, you idiot. I supported you.” With that, he leaves, dried blood on his face, probably headed to a bar. No one follows him, because no one knows what they would say if they caught up to him.
They don’t see Grantaire for a while, and Enjolras doesn’t talk about it at all. Marius is fine with that. He adores his friends, his brothers, but he doesn’t want to touch their issue with a ten foot pole. Instead, he hangs around with Eponine and Feuilly for a few days at the office. They work on a fundraiser together and Cosette stops by to bring them lunch. Personally, he’s completely happy that Cosette and Eponine get together well. They’re completely civil, even friendly with each other. Sometimes he sees how much Eponine is hurting and how hard she’s working to get over him, but he’s so glad that she’s actually able to. She deserves to be happy in her life, and he knows pining over him when he’s totally in love with Cosette is not a way she’ll ever be happy.
But it’s getting better, and one day, she walks in with a smile on her face. She’s got a huge manila envelope in her hands and she places it on his desk as she sits across from him. He thought she had been working, but Marius guesses he’d been wrong. He asks anyway.
“I thought you were photographing that wedding?” he asks.
Eponine nods. “I finished. Then I got these developed for you and Courf.”
“Me and Courf? Oh god. What is it?” Marius asks, looking already, smiling already.
Eponine is a talented photographer, Marius knows this. And yet, he has to catch his breath at the beauty of the photographs anyway. The first is a picture of an open field of lush grass in sepia tone. Running across it, however, is Cosette, and chasing her is Jehan. They’re both in sharp focus, the rest of the scene purposefully blurred and the overall affect is enchanting. The next photo is of the two of them climbing a large tree, the picture washed out in vignette, the tree blurred so it looks as if they’re floating in the branches. It’s eerie and gorgeous. Marius browses through the rest of the photos. Some are in black and white of Cosette and Jehan looking ethereal and amazing near a lake, others are of them running with fireflies after dark.
“Eponine…” he says, but can’t say anything more. “These are…”
“Thank you,” she says softly, and when he looks up, he sees that she looks honest and almost at peace with herself and him. “I came to give you those and ask if you would mind if I used them for my portfolio and as work samples. Cosette doesn’t mind, but… I just thought I’d ask you as well.”
“No of course, use them. They’re magnificent. Thank you for getting these for me,” he says, knowing he’ll frame the big, glossy photos and put them up around the flat, no matter how embarrassed Cosette gets.
“Some of my clients saw them in the shop and thought they were fairies, I swear,” Eponine says, to try and lighten the mood. Her laugh is only a little forced. “I had to agree. Jehan is so stark in appearance and Cosette is the most graceful creature I’ve ever seen.” She stops. “Very much like Queen Titania.”
“Eponine,” Marius starts, putting the pictures aside.
“I’m leaving,” she says. There’s a sad smile on her face. “I got a big job in Paris. I took it. I wanted to give these to you as a parting gift.” She looks away. “Marius, are you happy?” she asks, so much emotion in her voice that Marius chokes up with it himself.
“So very happy,” he assures her. “And it’s all because of you.” She had been the one to introduce them, to get them together. It must have hurt her so much, he thinks. He’d been so blind to it until recently, after Jehan had taken him aside and explained it to him.
“Then that is all I need to know.” Eponine gets up and kisses his cheek. Then she leaves.
He doesn’t see her again.
Bossuet joins up after Eponine leaves. He’s amazing and talented, a bit clumsy but has a big heart. Marius secretly misses Eponine a lot, but he doesn’t let it on and soon Bossuet fits seamlessly into their group.
Marius comes in from a lunch run with him one afternoon to find Feuilly and Cosette hard at work at something in the back. Grantaire has a case of beer near him and he looks miserable. Marius cautiously approaches him, knowing he’s been a bit touch and go since the little blow-up with Enjolras. Lately, they’d gotten back to their normal rivalry and bickering, but still. He’d always handled Grantaire with kid gloves when he looked at miserable as he did now.
“You alright, R?” he asks, patting him on the shoulder.
“If you could make your girl stop, that would be much appreciated,” he slurred with a little frown.
“I’ve already explained to you that she will not stop with the hugging, kissing and affectionate gestures,” Marius says, like a broken record. The first month that Cosette had started being excessively affectionate with Grantaire, he’d complained that she needed to quit while she was ahead and stop trying to make him laugh, since it would never work. The second she got her first chuckle from him, it had all gone downhill. They were alright with each other now.
“No, not that,” Grantaire says.
“Then what?”
“The fans,” Feuilly says with a smug grin. “I’m teaching her all the fan signs. He’s irritated at the repetition and refuses to leave.”
“The alcohol is here,” Grantaire says.
“No,” Bossuet says smugly. “Enjolras hasn’t come back yet and you’re just waiting around for him.” A few weeks in and he already knows of Grantaire’s rather undignified infatuation with their fearless leader. Marius laughs, because Grantaire is painfully obvious, even when he doesn’t want to be, but the only one who doesn’t seem to realize anything is going on is Enjolras himself.
“Quiet you,” Grantaire says. “You pretentiousness is making me queasy from all the way over here.”
“I think that’s the alcohol,” Feuilly says as he starts to go over them with Cosette again. They’re loud, so as to irritate him, and Grantaire ends up making his way to his usual spot to pass out in the back.
They hide their smiles as Enjolras walks in a half hour later and sniffs the air before rolling his eyes up to the heavens and then yelling, “Grantaire! Stop drinking in my office!” There’s a chuckle from behind the bookshelves and Enjolras looks like he’s contemplating going back there, but he gives up.
That is, until Grantaire says, “Awh, my dearest Apollo, don’t disappoint me now!” Then he’s up and scolding Grantaire to his heart’s content - "Grantaire, put the bottle down!" - and the rest of them know Grantaire is never happier than when he’s being yelled at by Enjolras, because at least then Enjolras is actually acknowledging his existence and speaking to him.
It’s a bit sad when Marius thinks of it like that.
Joly eventually gets sick of Grantaire’s drinking and the smoking done by the rest of them. Unfortunately, he’s not alone in his crusade to rid the office of cigarettes and alcohol.
“Cosette, I thought you loved me!” Marius exclaims as she steals the cigarette from between his lips and stomps it underfoot, holding out a hand. He gives her his carton.
“That’s why I’m doing this!” she exclaims. “Cigarettes kill you, Marius. And I want you for as long as I can have you.” She turns to Enjolras. “You too. You’re the only one who can control R and you run this whole Les Amis operation.”
“Stress smoking,” Enjolras says, even as Joly is yanking the cigarette out of Combeferre’s mouth, Jehan grimacing at the smoke being spat out into his face. Bahorel and Courfeyrac hide their packs quickly and Jehan looks at Feuilly in a panic, wondering what to do before Joly gets to the two of them.
“Really?” Grantaire says from a corner. “I do it because I’m holding out the hope that it kills me faster. Alcohol, nicotine. I’m just covering all of my bases.” He’s lying under the table, only his feet sticking out. Because he’s out of sight, Enjolras smiles wide and nudges one of his feet with the toe of his boot.
“You, my dearest Grantaire, are incapable of dying,” he says loftily.
“You’ll see,” Grantaire says to himself softly.
“Morbid much?” Cosette replies, kneeling by the table and sticking a hand under to yank the cigarette out of his mouth.
“Not as morbid as it’s going to be when I come back from the dead to haunt all of you,” Grantaire says from under the table as she leaves with his carton, looking triumphant. He rather sounds like a three year old pouting.
“Health,” Joly says, just as soon as he wrested the cigarettes from Jehan. “That’s all you idiots have left. Eat right and stay away from the tobacco, and we’ll have no issue.” He turns to Enjolras and points at him. “And you, you need to be getting more sleep. If I wake up to one more call at two in the morning of you throwing ideas at me, I will quit.” He turns back to them. “That goes for all of you. If not, I’ll sick Cosette on you. And you Marius, don’t think you can get away with it just because she’s you’re girlfriend.”
“I’m not above withholding sex,” Cosette says slyly, and the room erupts into laughter at the look on Marius’ face.
He’s starting to wonder if maybe he should regret being so happy that she gets along with his friends. But as she high-fives Joly and they share a laugh together, he can’t bring himself to care.
Bossuet has a wedding to go to, his cousin’s, and he has no idea how to dance properly. Being a high end function, he needs to know at least the basics, and it takes all of one week of him panicking before Cosette takes pity on him and sets up and impromptu dance class on a Saturday. The tables and shelves of the office are pushed back and away, Marius brings a radio in and they all show up for support.
At first, Marius is used as a dummy. Cosette uses him as an example for what Bossuet needs to do when he’s dancing with his partner. They do a few numbers and then she switches them. Bossuet goes onto the small ‘dance floor’ and Cosette takes the lead for the first few steps, showing him what to do.
It’s a disaster.
He’s all arms and legs, gangly and clumsy, and she’s complete, controlled grace. Joly breaks it up before they hurt themselves and then Cosette shows him again with Marius. It’s a small waltz, nothing scary or threatening, nothing too difficult. But there’s something wrong, and it takes Bossuet two hours before he realizes what it is.
“I can’t dance with just us,” he admits shyly. “I dance better in a group.”
“We can fix that,” Cosette says kindly, then she turns as looks to the rest of them. “Well then? Grab a partner boys. And let us dance.”
Marius stays seated, manning the radio and music selection, but the others run around like their fates depend on it. Jehan and Courfeyrac find each other and take a spot beside them. Joly pairs up with Combeferre, and Bahorel with Feuilly. All that’s left is Grantaire, and there’s no one there to partner with him.
“Guess I’m not-”
“Apologies for the tardiness,” Enjolras says right at that moment, shrugging out of his bright red coat in the heat of the room. “What are we doing?”
“You,” Cosette says, “are pairing up with Grantaire so we can help Bossuet learn how to dance. Let’s go.”
Grantaire looks at her and then back at Enjolras. He looks confused, but then it’s as if Enjolras makes up his mind and walks up to him. He extends a hand and asks, “May I have this dance?”
Grantaire looks genuinely shocked – the rest of them feel that way, honestly – but then he has that smirk back in place and responds, “Well since you asked so nicely.” He takes a swig from his glass of Zinfandel before getting up.
“Don’t let the wine go to your head,” Enjolras snorts, taking his hand all business-like and leading him to their makeshift dance floor. Grantaire makes a face at him when his back is turned and then they’re all set up. Marius starts the music.
Bossuet is right; he’s much better with more people on the floor. Together, paired with his clumsiness and Cosette’s grace, they amount to the average dancing couple. The others do a bit of a free dance, Grantaire dipping Enjolras at one point.
“Be serious, Grantaire,” Enjolras says, biting his lip to keep from smiling.
“I am wild,” Grantaire responds, wiggling his eyebrows. For the first time in years, Enjolras cracks and lets out a chuckle. When he looks up, Grantaire’s smile is blinding and Marius feels as if they finally just broke down a wall they no one ever knew was up expect for Grantaire. He must be elated at that.
The dancing winds down everyone settles for the night, sitting around the moved table and on the floor. Bossuet is practicing with Feuilly, the two of them laughing themselves silly while the others watch. Cosette is in Marius’ lap, and he’s telling her how amazing she is, how much she’s helped them all. She’s trying to tell him to stop showering her with undeserved praise.
Off to the side, Marius notices that Grantaire hasn’t touched his wine again. He hides his smile in Cosette’s hair.
They set up a protest for the next Parliament meeting.
There are going to be police there and there’s a good chance that they’ll be arrested for some reason or another. Les Amis don’t actually mind, but for some reason, Grantaire’s been antsy, worse than usual. He’s been overtly cynical and a bit mean, which is a little new for some of them. Marius remembers Grantaire’s mean days, but he doesn’t bring it up.
Cosette gets pissed though. She’s not one to stand for Grantaire and his attitude.
“What is wrong with you?” she screeches the day before the protest.
“None of your business, bird,” Grantaire says, and before Marius can interfere, she’s yanking at his hair and bringing him to eye level with her. Marius has never seen her this aggressive outside of the bedroom. He likes it.
“What the bloody fuck!” Grantaire swears, trying to get away.
“Don’t test me boy,” Cosette says softly. “Now you listen to me.” She’s usually touchy-feely with Grantaire but not when he’s acting like this. “If this is about your huge, obvious love for Enjolras, do you know what I say? You man-up and get the balls to say something to him already,” Cosette says. “Because you shouldn’t have to wait for that idiot forever, alright? He might be so obsessed with this mission of his, but you matter too, R.” She lets go of his hair and then hugs him. “You matter too.”
Marius lets them hug it out before he interrupts to bring her home. He doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring, but he’s sure it will be interesting.
Grantaire never shows up.
They’re at the protest and the police are closing in around their small group and Grantaire isn’t there. Enjolras hasn’t said a word since Bahorel pointed it out a few minutes ago, but that doesn’t mean anything. Gavroche, a small boy that had jumped in from the civilian crowd gets yanked away from Jehan and Courfeyrac. The two of them go ballistic and are arrested in seconds.
Marius himself is watching from a ways away. Enjolras had told him to stay with Cosette so that he could watch over the office while the rest of them were being held. No use in letting the organization go to ruin, he has said. It had been doing great things, anyway.
There’s more scuffling, and more fighting outside the building where the main legislation is going on and soon Feuilly and Joly are gone in squad cars, Combeferre is beating a patrol man with a picket sign and getting dragged away. Bahorel knocks an officer out cold, and gets dragged away. Bossuet is trying to stick it out with Enjolras but he breaks and has to knock someone out of the way to get some room and the snatch him using that as their small excuse.
Marius is in the front row of civilians, right behind Enjolras where he’s being cornered by the police, telling him to cooperate and come with them willingly. He can literally reach out and touch his friend’s bright red coat. Which is why he hears Enjolras’ breath catch and he looks up, his breath getting stuck in his own throat.
Grantaire is standing behind the crowd of policemen. He takes the last swig of his beer and then smashes the glass bottle on the concrete of the street to get the officers’ attention. It works, and they all turn toward him for a moment. His hair is matted and Marius knows he’s been asleep all of this time. At least he made it, he thinks thankfully.
“Vive la France!” Grantaire yells, then pushes his way through the policemen, making his way to Enjolras. They let him, too surprised to do anything else. Grantaire pushes his hair out of his face then looks at the crowd of law enforcement. “Well, go on,” he says. “Get us in one then.” But then he turns to Enjolras and the look on his face is so soft and yet so fierce that Marius can’t imagine being the focus of it. He’s glad it’s Enjolras, because he’s a man who can handle that raw intensity. “Do you permit it?” Grantaire asks. And Marius understands. He’s asking for permission to stand with him, to be seen with him, even through all of their differences.
It’s the strangest thing, then. Because of all the things Marius is expecting Enjolras to do, he isn’t expecting what he actually does next. He smiles, gives a real, honest smile to Grantaire and then takes the man’s hand in his, squeezing it tight, and that’s the only answer Grantaire needs, because he carefully swoops in and gives him the most fragile and chaste kiss on the mouth in the history of kisses. Marius can only think, Oh thank God. Finally.
Unfortunately, that’s all it takes for the officers to attack. They tackle the both of them onto the hard concrete and Marius just hopes for a minute that they get in a cell with Joly so he can make sure they’re not too badly injured from that fall. When they’re handcuffed and yanked up, they both have grim smiles on their faces, and when they look at each other, it’s like things are finally making sense. Marius can’t help the bellow of happiness that rips from his throat then.
“Vive la France!” he yells, and the crowd takes up the chant with him. It’s beautiful. He’s never felt so proud of his country in all his life.
“Marius!” Cosette yells, and there’s a crazy smile on her face. “I remember who they remind me of!”
“Who?”
“Enjolras and Grantaire!” she yells with a smile on her face. She laughs and laughs and Marius has to hold her close for her to calm down.
“Who do they remind you of?” he asks, to amuse her.
“Do you remember that class on world literature? And we read Greek tragedies.”
“Last year?” he asks, to clarify.
“Yes!” She says excitedly. “Do you remember the tragedy of Orestes and Pylades?”
Marius freezes and then starts to laugh. “Orestes fasting and Pylades drunk!” he says, describing his friends. He kisses Cosette then, because she’s wonderful and brilliant and he loves her, and so do his friends. “I love you!” he yells above the crowd.
“And I love you!” she says just as loudly. “Now let’s see if we can’t get them to sing, yes?” she says, meaning the crowd. Marius smiles and then starts in a loud voice, the people picking up the familiar tune as they marched along.
“Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men! It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again…”