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“I’m not that small.” Enjolras grumbled, crossing his arms irritably.
“Nah, dude, you’re pretty fuckin’ small.” Courfeyrac snickered from where he was curled up on his boyfriend’s lap.
“You’re like, an inch taller than me!” “And don’t you dare forget it.” “Well, in my boots-” “Those are platforms, Enjolras, that doesn’t count.” “I will rend you limb from limb, Courfeyrac.” “I’d like to see you try, mon petit cuck.” “Why you little-”
Enjolras cut off with an abrupt yelp as he was hoisted into the air by somebody behind him. Somebody who was, thankfully, being careful not to entirely crush Enjolras’ ribs under his binder. Somebody with a loud, boisterous laugh, who smelled faintly like wine- Oh, fuck.
“GRANTAIRE PUT ME DOWN I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL THROTTLE YOU-” Enjolras squirmed as he continued his tirade, but Grantaire just laughed harder and pulled Enjolras closer to his chest. “Preeeetty sure you’re too short to reach my neck.” Courfeyrac, meanwhile, was laughing like that was the funniest thing he’d ever seen (it was not particularly hard to make Courfeyrac laugh), while Combeferre was politely trying (and failing) to keep from giggling.
After a couple more insults, Grantaire gently dropped Enjolras back onto his feet. “Alright, alright, I’m done. Run wild and free.” “You’re a butthole.” “Yes, I’m aware.” “I’m gonna kick you in the shins later.” “Ooo, counting on a growth spurt?” “Grantaire,” “Okay, okay, I’m done for real now. Promise.”
Grantaire got called to the other side of the room by Joly, and Enjolras plopped back down in his chair. “So gwumpy.” Courfeyrac teased, reaching over and pinching Enjolras’ cheek lightly. “I thought you would have liked getting picked up by your cru- OW!” “Enjolras, come on, there’s no need for slapping.” Combeferre scolded. “Yeah, well, he’s- ugh. Ugh. UGH.” “Your face is reeeed.” “UUUGGGHHH-”
and then enjolras died goodnight everybody