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"I really really need your help."
The words come out in a breathless rush as Marius skids to a stop and throws himself into the chair across from Grantaire, who looks up at him with a bemused smile on his face.
"Okay, shoot."
Marius looks relieved for half a moment, and then immediately apologetic again, his face twitching, his hands fluttering about in the air as he attempts to explain himself. "I'm sorry, it's just-- Jehan and Courfeyrac are-- And Joly and Bossuet are-- And they--well--Musichetta. And Feuilly and Bahorel, well... And Combeferre-- Enjolras-- Uh--"
Grantaire chuckles and nods, reaching across the table to stop the stuttering man with a touch to his wrist. "I get it. I'm the only one who's single and not a prude. It's fine, Marius. What do you need help with?"
"I, well, a girl asked me out on a date." He grins excitedly, then his smile falters and he blushes red to the roots of his hair, ducking his head. "Grantaire, I've never been on a date before. I've never dated before. I've never done anything. I don't know how to do these things. I need help!"
The man looks terrified, practically hyperventilating and pink from his neck to his forehead. Grantaire takes pity on the poor man.
"Hey. Pontmercy. Breathe. It's okay. I'll help you. When is the date she's taking you on?"
"Uh. Saturday."
"And what are you guys going to be doing?"
"Just going out for lunch, I think."
"Okay, well, then come over on Thursday or Friday and we'll go out to lunch I shall teach you the finer points of charming a woman. Well, a person."
"God, Grantaire, thank you so much." The smile is back on Marius' face, hope in his eyes, a slight blush still high on his cheeks, and he looks adorably innocent. Grantaire isn't sure if he's looking forward to teaching him. Sweet as he is, Marius' brand of blind optimism and romantic notions seem like they'd be grating after a while. But he's agree to help, and he's not going to deprive the poor kid of what little assistance has been offered so he doesn't make a fool of himself.
Marius knocks on his door at half-past one, and Grantaire opens it to find him hopping nervously from one foot to the other. There's a nervous half-smile on his face and his hair is sticking up on one side as if he's been tugging at it.
"Come on, you," He shakes his head as he ushers Marius inside. "I'm not whatever-her-name-is. If you're nervous around me of all people, you're pretty much fucked, so relax."
"You're very helpful," Marius mutters drily, dropping onto his couch. "Thanks."
"Look, the key is, don't be nervous. Or at least, don't show it if you are."
"I--how?" His hands flutter back up towards his head. Grantaire grabs them and presses them back down into Marius' lap.
"First of all, stop with the flailing. Second, just calm down. Take a few breaths, slow down, process things."
"Okay," Marius nods. Looking down at their hands linked together in his lap, he takes a few deep breaths, his grip loosening. Grantaire takes his hands away and flexes his fingers. "Should we go, then?"
"All right. I don't know where she's planning on taking you, but I know a good place that's right in between casual and fancy, which is probably what you'll be doing."
"Right."
The place isn't a diner, but it isn't terribly fancy, either. Luckily, they somehow manage to get a table near the corner where they can discuss Marius' situation in private. They peruse the menu individually until they've both decided. Grantaire puts his menu down first and narrows his eyes at Marius, scrutinizing him.
"So, you've obviously been to dinners before, considering your upbringing, so you at least know how to order and which fork to use and all that fancy stuff."
Marius shrugs one shoulder, a slight blush creeping along his face. It makes Grantaire laugh at how easily he blushes, his bashful smile when he answers "Well, yes."
"Good. Then I don't have to teach you. Which is great because I never was the best at that stuff."
"No, I just don't know how to talk to her. Or treat her. Or look at her. Or do anything without freaking out."
Marius looks up to find Grantaire smiling kindly at him, no joke being made or pity being taken. The man's dark eyes are full of encouragement, and he reaches across the table to tap on the top as he makes his point.
"It's fine. Just remember that she's just a person. She's a human being, just like you or me or anyone else. So treat her like a person. You're always polite, at least compared to the rest of our band of merry idiots, so you've got that going for you. As for talking to her, the first date is like a get-to-know-you session. Ask her about her interests, her major, if she has any pets, that sort of thing. Steer clear of politics and family, because those are shitty issues and just....no. Don't talk about those. But anything else is pretty fair game."
"C-can I try on you?"
Grantarie grins and sits back in his chair. "That's what I'm here for. You'll just have to ignore the fact that I haven't got tits or a high voice and that your lovely lady has a bit of a beard for the night."
Nearly choking on his water, Marius splutters for a moment, caught between indignation and laughter. "That just isn't fair! I'm trying to be serious!"
"And I'm trying to get you to lighten the hell up."
"Fine, fine. Okay." He shifts in his chair and looks Grantaire in the eye. It feels strange to be doing this with Grantaire, but at the same time, the man across from him is open and warm, and doesn't seem to feel awkward in the least. "So, what are you going to school for?"
Grantaire smiles wider, obviously glad that he's made his peace with playing the game. "I'm getting an art major and a classics minor. What about you?"
"I'm going to law school. I'm minoring in linguistics."
Grantaire blinks. "I honestly didn't know that. Are you studying a language in particular or just linguistics as a whole?"
"I'm trying to stick with German out of interest and Latin because of the law stuff. But kind of everything, really."
Grantaire snaps his fingers, swinging his arm in front of him. "Too bad I'm taking Greek for my minor. We could have talked about Latin together."
The waiter comes over then to take their orders and they turn back to each other and grin.
"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"No, but it didn't go anywhere."
Grantaire mimes at stroking a long beard, squinting up at the ceiling and then across at his friend. "Ah, Marius, my boy, that is where you are wrong. We got out of each other basic information which can be elaborated on. For instance, what do you intend to do with your law degree?"
"I'm not sure. Probably something to do with army veterans getting the help they need."
"A noble cause indeed. Why that particular one, aside from the obvious fact that you of all people would run screaming from marriage law?"
Marius sticks his tongue out at him playfully as Grantaire laughs. "Very funny. My dad was a war vet. I never got to know him; he died before I ever met him because of my grandfather's guardianship over me. But he didn't get the proper care or benefits that he needed, and someone could have helped him."
"Oh. Sorry." A twist of lips, a frown. "See, this is why we avoid talking about family."
"It's okay. I've come to terms with it and all that. Now it's just a reason to work hard and get my degree."
"Okay, next question--and remember, you're supposed to be asking questions too-- how in the world did you get mixed up with the idealist hooligans we call Les Amis?"
Marius barks out a laugh, loud and sudden enough that other patrons turn to look at him as he smothers his giggles behind a hand. "Oh, now there's a story."
---------
Grantaire is in his usual spot at the back of the Corinth when Marius floats in. He swears the man is walking on clouds whilst little birds twitter around his head, a dizzy, wistful smile on his face. Marius' butt alights in the chair across from Grantaire, a much happier mirror to the scene just a few days earlier.
"I take it your date went well?"
"Oh, Grantaire, thank you so much! It was wonderful. I remembered to look at her, and ask her the right questions, and remember that she's human, and all that stuff. She was so sweet, and she didn't even seem to mind when I got all flustered." His hands flutter back up to his head. "But--um--I just-- I'm really sorry! What you did worked so well and I'm already so nervous for our next date even though it's not for another two weeks because she's busy but I just don't know how to do these things and I'm scared I'm going to mess up can you help me again?"
A huge gasp for air follows the query, and Grantaire rolls his eyes. "What did I say about remembering to breathe? And yes, of course I'll help."
The second practice-date goes well, and Grantaire learns that Marius is weirdly gifted at lacrosse but hates sports of any kind, that he is allergic to cashews and only cashews, and that he eats his pizza with a fork, and that he's never had any pets but adores dogs and really wants to get a rescue dog from a shelter because they always have unique personalities. Marius learns about Grantaire's moderate skills in dance and martial arts, that he's self-taught in art and has actually only been painting since he got to uni, and had never taken a proper art class before then either, that he's been to multiple countries because of a backpacking trip he took when he turned eighteen, and that his favourite food is actually sushi, despite how pretentious it sounds.
Marius learns to slow the hell down when he's asking questions or responding to them, and Grantaire shakes his head and smacks him gently on the arm when he flushes at an off-colour comment. "I should bring you home and just say the worst things to you until you get used to it and stop with all that blushing bullshit."
"I can't help it!"
"I know, which is why I'm not going to make you sit on my couch and listen to my unfiltered brain for three hours."
Marius looks slightly horrified. "Thank god. I don't even want to think about what could possibly be in that head of yours."
"Hey! I'm charming and adorable."
"And abominable. And rude. And absolutely filthy."
Grantaire raises a haughty eyebrow, putting on a high class accent. "And I'm teaching you how to date people and make them fall in love with you, Miss Eliza."
"Fine. I concede."
"So does the rain in Spain fall mainly on the plain?"
Marius glowers. "Oh, leave me alone. And yes."
Grantaire tosses his head back and cackles, his whole body shaking with mirth, eyes crinkled at the edges. He looks relaxed and open, a far cry from the hunched over drunk with dark eyes and a ready sneer that is ever-present in the Corinth and Musain. Marius likes this Grantaire better.
-------
Cosette is lovely and beautiful and friendly and he adores her. She makes him smile and she's fun to talk to, and her intelligence and opinions would captivate Combeferre and engage Enjolras and he'd love to bring her to the meetings but--. But Grantaire. Grantaire has been helping him with this all along, he's been a surrogate Cosette and a best friend, and Marius isn't quite sure he's ready to share that with Cosette. He's never seen Grantaire interact with anyone the way he interacts with him. It feels special, it feels nice, it's a connection he's never felt before, and it's something he wants to keep for himself.
The fake dates are truly enjoyable, Grantaire realizes. The more times he goes out with Marius, the better he feels. He knows more about Marius now than probably even Courfeyrac, and the man is honestly interesting and fun to be around. He's sweet and genuinely interested in everything anyone has to say. He blushes like a schoolgirl, but it's simply endearing on him, and his honesty reinforces that adorableness. Grantaire feels comfortable around Marius, safe enough to relax and let go of his usual walls, safe enough to laugh and not hide his vulnerability with sarcasm and biting comments.
In the Corinth, it's still Enjolras that Grantaire watches, but it's Marius he sits with, and it's Marius he jokes with, and it's Marius who can get him to quiet down when he's too boisterous and Marius who takes him home after too many drinks.
"He really likes you," Combeferre notes when Grantaire gets up from beside them to go pester Jehan about some book he's reading. "I've noticed he's more willing to do things when it's you telling him and he seems happier when he's with you."
Marius shrugs. "He's been helping me with stuff. We've gotten to be better friends."
"That's good." Combeferre claps him on the shoulder with a small smile. "He needs someone to make sure he's all right."
"I know. And he's not always as bad off as you all think. He'll be okay."
The next practice date is less of a practice date and more of a hang out day. They have pizza for lunch and wander around the city, popping in and out of shops and trying on terrible, too expensive clothes and generally making fools of themselves. Grantaire is grinning and flushed, his hair puffed out in all its glorious curls, and for once, he looks truly healthy. It makes Marius happy, and he can't stop smiling, even when Grantaire tries to convince him to purchase the most hideous pair of trousers in order to 'impress Cosette'. They've walked far enough that they have to catch the train back home, and Grantaire falls asleep on Marius' shoulder, breathing softly into his arm, until he flicks the sleeping man on the nose when they reach their stop.
--------
Jehan has a joint dangling from the corner of his mouth as he grapples with the needle and thread in front of him. Grantaire steals it to take a long drag, letting the smoke ripple out of his mouth in a thick white cloud.
"So you and Marius have been spending a lot of time together." Jehan observes now that the joint is no longer between his lips.
"Mmhm," Grantaire affirms around the paper, breathing smoke out on a sigh. "He asked me to help him learn how to act with Cosette on a date and stuff. Now we just hang out. Originally it was just me helping him, but now it's sometimes me helping him and mostly us talking. We've gotten really close, and he's really becoming a best friend."
"I think he's good for you."
"I think so, too."
That's all that needs to be said between them. Jehan doesn't need too many words to explain what he thinks, and Grantaire appreciates his simplicity.
Marius is losing badly at Mario Kart, futilely attempting to gain the upper hand by shoving Grantaire shoulder at random. He rolls his eyes as his friend wins again and rolls over onto his back, flinging the controller away. He can see Grantaire's hand creeping across the floor to poke him in the ribs, and smacks it away before it can reach him.
"You know the museum I'm a volunteer docent for?"
Grantaire raises an eyebrow and rolls up, crossing his legs and leaning back against the couch. "Yeah?"
"They're having this publicity event next week for their newest exhibition. I'm allowed to invite a guest, if you want to attend."
"Why not Cosette?"
"She's not an artist. You are. I figured you'd get more out of it." Marius shrugs away his considerate logic.
"You're serious."
"Well, yeah."
Grantaire blinks, considering, processing through the invitation. "Yeah, I'd want to go, if you'd rather me than Cosette."
"I'm glad. I think you'll love it."
Marius is right. Grantaire does love the new exhibit. Nearly each piece is a portrait, intensely emotional and perfectly captured, whether in sketchy pencil or layered in paint. Unlike the rest of the patrons, he spends hardly any time schmoozing and nearly the entire night wandering from piece to piece, staring and gaping and examining every line and figure and medium. Marius wanders over towards the end of the night. Grantaire is being held transfixed by a pencil drawing of a multi-armed man in the simultaneous act of clutching himself and reaching out, small details coloured in with watercolour. Marius is silent, watching him watch the painting.
"Thank you," Grantaire breathes finally. He's overwhelmed at the beauty of the art in this place, at the gratitude and affection for Marius that blisters his insides. "Everything here is beautiful. Thank you."
-------
Cosette is waiting for him when he gets out of the train station, and they link arms and walk towards the park. The wind's fingers sweep up Cosette's long blonde hair, tossing it behind her as they make their way across the grass and lay a small blanket out to sit down on.
"So how was the art event at your museum?" She asks, enthusiasm in her face, her hands tucked in her lap.
Marius thinks about the new donating patrons his boss told him they'd gained, the emotional beauty of the art around him, Grantaire's awestruck stare as he took in every possible detail of every possible piece. "It was great! My friend Grantaire attended it and said it was amazing. You'd like him, I think. He seems rude at first, but he just hides away in order to keep people from hurting him. He's so nice, and when he's interested in something, he's incredibly passionate in a way I've never seen before. He knows a little bit about any subject you might possibly choose. It's mad. He's pretty much my best friend."
"You sound like you really like him. You must have known him for a while?"
"Not really, no." He picks at a clump of grass by his foot."We only recently started to get to know each other better. He's been a part of the student group I'm in since before I got there, but we never really connected until recently."
"I'm glad. He sounds like a good friend."
He nods and plucks a little yellow dandelion from the grass, tucking it behind her ear. She smiles and looks up at him, blue eyes shining. Marius wonders if he should learn how to kiss.
--------
Grantaire is fucked. He is well and truly fucked and confused as fuck and tired as fuck and just...fuck. Why did he ever agree to help Marius with his whole I-don't-know-how-to-date problem? Why did he ever think becoming a friend to Marius was a good idea? Why does he always fuck these things up?
Marius is his best friend, that's all. He's just not used to having friends so close, to having this bloom of trust in his chest or the curl of pure enjoyment and amusement in his belly. That's a lie. Jehan is his best friend, too, and it doesn't feel like this. Grantaire is fucked. Grantaire is terrified.
He's never done well with falling for people. It's like he's genetically programmed to push them away or hurt them. He doesn't want to hurt Marius. And what if Marius finds out? He just wants to be friends, he's straight, he has a girlfriend, Grantaire is helping him with her for fuck's sake! He can't just go stealing boys from their girlfriends.
It's three in the goddamn morning and he can't sleep and he can't stop thinking about this, so he flings off his sheets and sets a canvas up on the easel. The portrait comes out in shades of blue and tan: Marius, blushing faintly, laughing with enthusiastic eyes and an open mouth. There is joy in every brushstroke.
They don't see each other for a couple of weeks. It's not Grantaire's fault. Marius is busy at his job, busy at his volunteer work, busy with school. Grantaire has had a bout of inspiration from that art exhibit, and when he's not painting, he's working or sleeping or drinking. He thinks of Marius on and off when he's painting. Marius marks places in his book Grantaire might like, keeps pamphlets for art shows he might be interested in. They don't think to text each other.
They meet up again half a week later at the cafe nearby Marius and Courfeyrac's flat, the reason being the now-rare need for dating advice regarding Cosette rather than a request to hang out.
"What do you need, mon cher Christian? A ballad? A sonnet? A haiku, perhaps? Maybe an ode?" Grantaire sweeps into a low bow, arm stretching out in a flourishing mime of removing his hat. Marius rolls his eyes.
"No, mon ami Cyrano. I need help with something different. I don't know how to kiss."
Grantaire almost falls on his face on the pavement.
-------
It's all very confusing, this emotions thing. Marius has the extreme disadvantage of never knowing what to do in any scenario, ever. He rubs his forehead tiredly, too distracted by his own thoughts to read through fifty more pages of law textbooks. Cosette is sweet, and wonderful, and he adores her, but he knows nothing about her. They've been on over a dozen dates in the past few months, they've spent time together just doing silly, fun things, and she is a joy and beautiful and wonderful to talk to and he loves to be with her. But Grantaire is amazing. He's intelligent and witty and captivating. He's fun and silly, he knows how to cheer people up and how to talk to anyone. He's kind, and he's passionate, and Marius is pretty sure he knows more about him than anyone else he knows. Cosette feels like a best friend. Grantaire feels like...he's not sure what he feels like, but it can't be right, can it?
Grantaire tries not to think of his promise to teach Marius sometime in the next week. He doesn't think about how important Marius has become to his life, how he looks forward to seeing him and talking to him, how missing him at meetings makes his stomach clench. He won't think about it. He'll just continue on with their friendship and ignore it.
They're sprawled together on Marius' ugly couch, watching The Matrix despite both of them having seen it dozens of times. Grantaire keeps throwing popcorn at the screen during the shots he doesn't like, which makes Marius throw popcorn at him for interrupting and complaining about a perfectly good movie, just wait until the third one to bitch.
When Grantaire gets up to get a drink between changing DVDs, Marius manages somehow to remember the promise from the other day. He sits back down and turns to Grantaire, remote held loosely in one hand.
"You know, you said you'd teach me how to kiss. I'm sorry!" He pats his friend's back apologetically as the other man coughs.
"Couldn't you have waited until I was finished drinking? Soda's not the most fun to take in the wrong way."
He grips Grantaire's arm. "Will you, though?"
"Now?" There's a nod in response. "I-I guess. It's less of an exact science, though, more just learning what your partner likes and how to not come on too strong."
"Can you at least teach me the basics? I've never kissed anyone before." He blushes red, and Grantaire almost laughs.
"I thought you'd stopped doing that blushing thing around me. Come here." Marius scoots closer, until their knees are touching, then twists to face his friend. Grantaire places a hand against the right side of Marius' neck, thumb against his jaw. "This is okay, right?"
Marius nods nervously, swallowing. "Yeah, I've just never done this before."
"No judgement here. There's always a first for everything. Ready?"
Another nod. He closes his eyes and waits as Grantaire moves in, too nervous to move forward as well in case he misses. Grantaire's lips are soft against his, his lower lip slightly chapped from being chewed on. It takes him a moment before he realizes he's supposed to be moving his lips against Grantaire's as well, and snaps into action, kissing him back. Grantaire hums a little "mmhmm" of encouragement at Marius' wordless grunt of questioning. They kiss like that for a while, gently, close-mouthed, before Grantaire tentatively swipes his tongue against Marius' bottom lip. It's soft, and Marius parts his lips unthinkingly, intending to reciprocate. Grantaire's tongue inside his mouth is a strange sensation, but pleasant, and it feels nice to kiss like this. Soon, they have to part for air, and Grantaire grins.
"You're a natural. Just tone down the aggressiveness on the tongue and you'll be golden."
"Can I try again? Tell me if I'm doing it right?"
Grantaire nods and they come together again. He can't believe he's kissing Marius. He's still not sure if it feels like a betrayal or a dream come true, or something entirely different from either of those things. Whatever it is, he wants to keep it forever. Marius is gentle this time, slow and respectful. Grantaire clenches his hand against the back of Marius' neck.
They have a quarter-second warning of footsteps on the landing before the door bangs open with the force of Courfeyrac's grocery-laden body. They jump apart, Grantaire's hand still resting on Marius' neck. Courfeyrac stares at them for a moment before traipsing into the kitchen.
"Don't mind me," he calls through the doorway. "Congratulations, both of you."
"We're not--"
"He's not--"
"I'm just--"
"Whatever," Courfeyrac waves them away as he swings on a different coat and heads back out the door. "It's your own thing. It's cool. I'm off to the arcade with the bald one and his hypochondriac. Toodles!"
"Toodles?" Grantaire asks, snatching his hand away. Marius shrugs and presses play on the remote. They watch the movie in silence. Grantaire doesn't even complain or criticize a single thing. Neither mentions that they haven't moved from their original positions, knees still pressed together even as they lean against the couch cushions with stiffened shoulders. Grantaire departs when the movie is over, waving goodbye to Marius as he stays seated on the couch. It feels like the goodbye should be something more.
-------
Marius avoids the Corinth. Marius avoids the Musain. Marius avoids Grantaire and Grantaire's haunts and Grantaire's closer friends, like Jehan and Bahorel. When Courfeyrac tries to get him to talk about it, he shuts himself up in his room and avoids Courfeyrac as much as he possibly can. The best way to deal with a situation is to hide and think about it too hard.
Does he like Grantaire? As a friend? Yes, of course. As more than a friend? Yes. Is he gay? Marius finds he doesn't much care how he identifies himself. How will Grantaire react? That's an unknown. What about Cosette? She feels more like a friend to him, like someone he can spend time with and laugh with and talk with, but not someone he can share his secrets with, not someone he can spend minutes on end kissing. He needs to do some errands.
Grantaire hides in his flat for a few weeks and drinks and paints and reads and does everything he can to avoid thinking. Not that any of those attempts stop his brain in the slightest.
Marius is the sweetest person he's ever met. Marius is adorable and polite and passionate and goofy. He blushes too much and stutters and stumbles to get his words out and helps random strangers with things and asks everyone how their weekend was. He makes Grantaire laugh, and he's well read, enough to understand Grantaire's wild and roaming monologues about literature and pop culture. He doesn't shake his head with disappointment when Grantaire gets falling-down drunk. He simply loops an arm around his waist and guides him gently into his car or a taxi and takes him home and makes him drink water and leaves him aspirin on the counter and even stays the night if he's worried. He laughs nervously at first, and then open and joyful, mouth open to show the pink of his tongue. He wants to help people with his degree, he wants to learn new things. Marius is wonderful. It hurts.
He's lying in bed listening to fucking Pete Doherty-- of all the depressing music he could pick, why in hell did he pick this-- when he gets the sudden urge to paint. He prepares his paints and a few canvases, and loses himself in the rhythm of the brushstrokes, the colour, the figure forming under his watchful eye and careful hands. He finishes one canvas and moves on to another, hardly bothering to pay much attention to the quality or subjects of the pieces he's making. It's simply catharsis, the tossing of paint out of his head and onto the canvas. He's pretty sure he doesn't care what he paints right now, so long as he isn't think of Marius' lips, Marius' laugh, Marius' excitement as they discuss literature, Marius' kind, gentle eyes.
The harsh sound of vibrating plastic on wood rips his concentration away, drawing his attention to the cell phone threatening the vibrate itself off his desk. Grantaire grabs it with his clean hand and looks at the screen. It's Marius. He almost doesn't answer it. He decides that's silly and rude, why should a few kisses ruin their friendship? "Hey."
"Hey Grantaire, can you help me with something?"
"Okay, shoot."
"Can I take you on a date? I want to take you on a date."
Grantaire's not sure what his face looks like right now, but it feels like he's grinning so hard he's glowing. "Yeah, Marius. Yeah, you can."