Chapter Text
The amis were all there, except for one. She liked to think he was there in spirit. Apparently, Bossuet hadn't been lucid all day. Joly was stoned out of his head, courtesy of Bahorel. She couldn't say that she wasn't hoping to get stoned herself. Especially now that Marius had arrived with Cosette attached to his arm.
She wander over to Grantaire, placing herself on his lap. “Hey, stranger. Have we met before?” It was a clumsy line for a clumsy excuse not to think about Marius.
“Oh, you know me--- tall, dark, and snarky?” Grantaire said, offering a poor effort for a smile.
“It does seem I might have met you somewhere before. Tell me, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Snarky: do you know where I might find Mr. Tall, Dark, and Stoned?”
“He's probably doing coke in the bathroom. Why is it that they always do coke in the bathroom?”
“You've got to respect tradition.” Eponine said, slipping out of Grantaire's lap. She offered him her hand. “Wanna come get stoned with me?”
Grantaire began to refuse her, but then Enjolras entered the room and he took Eponine's hand. “I couldn't think of a better way to spend this lovely, smogy evening.”
“A man after my own shrivelled heart.”
Bahorel was doing lines of coke in the bathroom.
“You're a living cliché.” Eponine told him, swatting his derrière as she entered the cramped room. “How about sharing with us?”
Bahorel took the baggy off of the counter and made a little dot rather than a line of coke.
“What the hell is that?” Eponine scoffed. “My little brother would be offended by that.”
“Your little brother does coke?” Bahorel said in actual surprise.
“He'd better not. I'd kick his ass.” Eponine said. She wanted to get this over with before Enjolras came in and started lecturing them all. She craved the familiar numbness in the back of her throat. She craved indifference. Bahorel poured out a bit more of the white powder.
Grantaire wasn't huge on coke. He was perfectly satisfied with drinking alone, and he knew that Eponine and Bahorel were into harder stuff. But, it was hard not to be taken in by the absolute glee with which Eponine inhaled the substance, tapping at her lip and cute little nose as she attempted to get the most of the powder in as possible. Then, Grantaire did his line.
He didn't like being so jumpy, but when the euphoria kicked in he forgot his reservations. They were out in the den with the others. Eponine had disappeared and then reappeared across the room. She and Bahorel were dancing. Grantaire wanted to do something. He needed to do something. He'd not done as much as Eponine, but he didn't have her tolerance.
His mouth tasted chemical and faintly of blood. He started to make his way over to Eponine, but tripped over someone (Jehan?) and landed on Enjolras's lap. “Are you all right?” Enjolras said, irritation (or was it exhaustion?) thinly veiled.
“I'm fine.” Grantaire said brightly, too brightly. So brightly he said it unconvincingly.
“You're not. What are you on right now?”
“Why do you care?” Grantaire was lifted to his feet. (When had he fallen over? He couldn't remember.)
“I'm your friend.”
“Friend?” Grantaire laughed a horrible laugh. “We're not friends, Enjolras. I think you made that very clear when you said it was my fault that Joly nearly... you know.”
They'd migrated to Courfeyrac's empty bedroom. “I've always considered you to be my friend.” Enjolras said, seriously. They were so close they were nearly touching.
“Careful, Apollo. Someone might suspect that you can actually stand me.” Grantaire said, hyper-aware of their closeness.
Enjolras backed away. “We can't talk like this. Not until you've sobered up.”
“Is this your way of telling me you never want to speak to me again?” Grantaire said, only half-jokingly.
“No. This is my way of telling you that I think you're better than this. If you've got any respect for either of us, you'll sober up.”
“Of course I respect you! How could you think otherwise? You're so blind, Apollo. You're a fucking genius but you don't understand me at all.”
“You've given me no indication that you have any regard for me at all.” Enjolras said.
“We argue yes, of course we argue. That's the natural balance of things. If I didn't contradict you, who would? I'll follow you wherever you go---- off of a fucking cliff, for instance. Do you understand me? I'd do anything for you. Do you think I haven't tried to be sober in the past? Do you think I like being a worthless burden? Do you think I like spending money on a fucking addiction? I've gone to AA. I've tried to join their little club. It doesn't fucking work for me, okay? I was fucked up before I even started drinking. I'm a fuck up. And don't try to shame me into quitting. That doesn't work. My addiction has nothing to do with you. You can't just show up in my life and expect to fix me. We're not even friends. You don't know anything about me. I have a feeling you don't want to know anything about me. Even if you cared enough to want to fix me you couldn't. We can't even be friends.”
“You're right. I don't understand. I don't know you at all.” Enjolras said, frowning deeply. “And I certainly don't understand why we can't be friends.”
“I'm in love with you, Enjolras. I've been in love with you since fucking freshman year. Do you need me to make it any clearer for you? That's why we can't be friends. Because I want us to be something we can't be and you want me to be something I can't be.” Grantaire wondered if he'd live to see the morning. The rational bit that was left of him was screaming the whole while to shut up. But, he'd kept going. He had spilled everything on the ground before Enjolras's feet. He was completely at the mercy of the cruel god he loved.
“You never gave any sign... what are you--- you're not serious, are you?” Enjolras, bless his oblivious little head, was completely at a loss as he so often found himself to be with Grantaire (and only with Grantaire).
Possessed by some fatal impulse, Grantaire pressed Enjolras against the wall and kissed him. They were standing just out of sight of their friends, sparing Enjolras's dignity perhaps. Before Enjolras had a chance to respond positively or negatively, Grantaire was off like a bullet into the next room. He found Eponine and danced with her.