Chapter 1: A Biting Beginning
Henri Grantaire was just minding his own fucking business. For once in his goddamn life, he was minding his own fucking business and everything STILL goes to shit. Because o-fucking-course it does. He’s Henri Grantaire, and everything ALWAYS has to find a way to go to shit.
“Hello, handsome,” a mysterious blonde woman asked him as she sat beside him at the bar.
“Sorry, not interested,” Grantaire said, drinking his water and looking back at the wall in front of him. He had been doing a lot better about his drinking problem, and was only there because he had been trying to catch up with the bartender. When his drinking had been the worst, he had become somewhat close friends with the man, and he’d wanted to let him know how well he’d been doing.
She stretched out closer to him, practically laying on the bar to get his attention. “Awww, am I so ugly that you won’t even look at me?”
Grantaire glanced down, something about her voice pulling him to do what she was saying. As he did, he found himself drawn in. It was like they were a pit he was slowly being dragged into, no hope of escape, even if he wanted to. He found himself staring, and couldn’t quite get himself to listen to what she was saying. Before the haze fully took over, he shot a text to Joly to explain that something weird was going on, but the phone was quickly.
When she bought him a drink, he drank it, because she told him to. It didn’t occur to him to fight against her. Her eyes and her voice were burned into his mind. He had no idea how much time passed or how many drinks he had, too enthralled by her to keep track of that stuff. Before he really noticed, she began asking him questions. They started out innocent enough, what he did for a living and such, but soon turned to questions about his friends. Grantaire had no idea what he was saying, answering honestly to any question she asked.
Then she said something that drew him out of his haze. “What about Enjolras?” she asked.
“I love that man,” he mumbled as he took another sip, per her request.
“Yes I know, that’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she replied.
That bit of the conversation was the only thing that stuck in his head, and even though the fuzzy feeling returned and the drinks were making it harder and harder to think clearly, he found some sort of solid ground to keep himself from sliding further under her spell. She seemed to figure that out too, and got him to finish his drink before guiding him outside.
Grantaire did NOT want to go with her. She wasn’t his type. Blond was not his type. He was far too drunk and out of it from her influence to fight back much, and when he found himself pushed against the outer wall of the bar, kissing on his lips and his neck, he found it hard to fight back. There was a moment of sharp pain, like something bigger than needles pushing themselves into his neck, before everything went dark and he found himself going limp in her arms, his head instinctively moving to make it easier for her to bite onto him.
Joly knew something was wrong with Grantaire when he got the sloppy text from him saying that there was some strange lady talking to him at the bar and then he didn’t respond to any of Joly’s texts. Being his usual worrying self, he texted the group chat, the monster hunting one, not the civil rights one, and said he thought Grantaire might be in trouble. Even if it wasn’t a supernatural, something was very clearly wrong. Before long the majority of the group found their way to the bar and found a blond woman sucking on the neck of a pale and limp Grantaire.
Feuilly hit her in the head with his bat, causing her to release Grantaire and stumble away. Joly didn’t focus on the fight between the others and the vamp as he and Combeferre focussed on their patient. He tried to see if Grantaire was anywhere near responsive while Ferre prepared the treatment for a vampire bite.
“Vampires have antibodies in their saliva that upon contact with human blood, cause a reaction like a drug, numbing the pain and often making the victim fall unconscious as they drain their blood. The reaction is cut when this mixture of garlic juice and holy water cleans it off,” Combeferre explained.
Joly nodded, trying to wake R up, even though he knew that it wasn’t likely to happen until the bite was cleaned. “It’ll still need disinfected then, right?” he asked. Joly was still knew to this whole thing, and hadn’t actually come across a vampire attack before, so he was learning everything he could from Combeferre when it came to the medical side of monster fighting.
“Yes, can you get that ready? We’ll do it quickly here and again once we’re home and do the real wrapping of the bite, right now we just need to worry about the saliva because it stops blood from clotting so that it won’t stop flowing, and we don’t know right now how much he’s lost,” Ferre replied, gently cleaning the bleeding wounds with the cloth damp with the cure, both around the bite and inside the incisions. Grantaire reacted to that, his eyelids flickering as he whimpered, before falling silent again. “She must have gotten him drunk too, on top of the bite.”
As this was happening, the others returned. “She got away,” Enjolras hissed. He couldn’t believe they’d let that happen. That woman just attacked one of their friends and she managed to get away! They would have to find her, stop her from hurting anyone else, but right now Grantaire was the priority.
“We’ll find her, don’t worry, Enjolras,” Courfeyrac said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He knew his friend was concerned about his crush and would be beating himself up for letting this happen to him.
“‘Jolra’,” Grantaire mumbled quietly as the two medical students took care of the bite. He’d heard the name, and it brought him slightly out of the fog that he’d fallen into. “Won’ talk… ‘bou’... jolra… sop… askin…” He was sound asleep again before he could finish the last word.
The group looked at each other with concern before Enjolras sighed. “It was only a matter of time before the monsters of the city found out there was an Enjolras in Paris. Someone must have been watching me, and watching the group, and figured out Grantaire didn’t know about everything, so they went after him.”
“That, or they knew how much you care about him and took advantage of that,” Courf suggested. Neither option was a particularly nice one, and no one in the group wanted either to be true.
Combeferre stood up and motioned for Bahorel and Feuilly to grab Grantaire. “We’ll ask him what he remembers when he wakes up in the morning. Right now we just need to make sure he’s alright. No matter if we’re being watched or not, Grantaire can’t be kept in the dark any longer. It led to a vampire taking advantage of his ignorance. We can’t risk that happening again, and us not getting here in time.”
“He hasn’t lost too much blood, we got here just in time,” Feuilly said as the pair picked up their fallen friend.
“How do you know that?” Bossuet asked, also pretty new to all this.
Feuilly smiled a little, though it was somewhere between amused and sad. “I can smell it. He hasn’t lost a lot of blood. I could also smell that she wasn’t particularly strong, which was why she had to resort to getting him drunk.”
Bossuet just shook his head because this was all still so weird. “Whatever you say, man, let’s get him back to their place.”
Everyone generally agreed and headed back to the building that Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras lived in, their base of monster hunting and civil rights operations.The building itself was an old chateaux of the Enjolras family, large and full of monster hunting equipment. It had become a second home for most of the group, though only those that were in the monster hunting group. They knew that Grantaire was unveiled now, so there was no better place to help him.
Chapter 2: One Hell of a Hangover
Grantaire wakes up on the couch in a place he doesn't recognize, and soon remembers what happens. He gets some explanation as to what the hell is going on and infuriates his crush as much as humanly possible.
This chapter is a bit shorter because it's a specific scene and conversation, rather than multiple like the others. Sorry about that! I'm trying to post regularly, so the next chapter should be up next Wednesday, since the next two are already finished.
Grantaire groaned as he awoke. He felt like he had the worst hangover in his life, and he really couldn’t quite remember what had happened. Sitting up, he groaned again, rubbing his head. Where even was he? Looking around, he had no idea where he or how he got there. It was then that he noticed the picture of Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras. Was he at their place? How had he gotten there?
A beautiful blonde woman with a hypnotic voice. A dark, wet alleyway with a wound on his neck and his friends around him, terribly blurry from whatever was in his bloodstream. Right. They must have found him and took him home. Oh my god, he was in his crushes house and had slept on his couch. Why?! Everything was blurry and there were those eyes, those far too bright eyes flashing red as she bit into his neck-
He gasped as the memories came flowing back and clutched his neck. Grantaire didn’t remember everything of course, but he remembered much more than he had. Things were slightly more in focus now, and even though he was still confused, it was a little better now that he knew what got him to his current location.
“Grantaire!” he heard the familiar voice of Courfeyrac called. “I heard you gasp, are you okay? You’re awake!” Soon enough his friend appeared with a glass of water, home hangover meds, and a piece of toast.
“... Yes?” Grantaire replied, turning to look at him, though he flinched from the pain he found in his neck. “Yikes, okay, that was real. Thanks.” He took the medicine and attempted to get himself to eat some of the toast.
“He’s awake? Wonderful,” Combeferre said, sitting beside him. “Yes it was real. Yes she was a vampire. Yes you almost died. Yes monsters are real, no I am not one, but some people you know are.” As he spoke, he skillfully unwrapped the bandages around his neck and started cleaning the wounds again. “How much do you remember?”
“... Wait… what?” Grantaire asked, confused as hell by this sudden onslaught of information. He bat at Combeferre to try to get him to stop. There was too much going on and the hands in his face weren’t helping the overwhelm he was feeling.
Courfeyrac sat down on the arm of the couch and leaned back dramatically. “You're overwhelming him, you need to take it take it slow after someone gets bitten by a sucker,” he teased, before turning to Grantaire. “There are monsters in this world, but not everyone who is supernatural is a monster, you know? Supernaturals can be werewolves or vampires, or spirits of some kind. They aren't necessarily bad people, just people going through their lives who happen to be supernatural. There are, however, people who do bad things. The cops don't deal with supernaturals because they can't see them, so other people have to step in.”
“People like me. People like us,” Enjolras said, making himself known as he entered the conversation. “My family is well known for being able to see through the veil that keeps most people from seeing supernaturals, and for being able to see the purity of a soul. We have an inherited duty to protect the innocent from monsters. Just about everyone in our group has joined my cause.”
“Why wasn't I told about this? Why is everyone else in on it but me?” Grantaire asked, swatting at Combeferre again.
“Well, we didn't want to tell anyone, but they either found out from an outside source or is a supernatural themselves. Being able to see the truth is dangerous. People don't always like it when you can see the real them. Especially not when they aren't the nicest of people,” Enjolras explained.
“And what's the difference between a supernatural and a monster?” Grantaire asked, finally allowing Combeferre to bandage him back up.
Enjolras sighed, “There isn't really one. They're the same thing. People who are supernatural can be considered monsters because of what they are. Generally though, we call people who do terrible things and need to be stopped, whether they're supernatural or human who hurt supernaturals, monsters.”
Grantaire nodded. Part of him wanted to deny all this, but the memory of her biting into his neck was still fresh in his mind. “Who do I know that's supernatural?”
“Who do you think?” Courfeyrac asked.
Courf burst into laughter and almost fell off the arm of the couch. “I may be flamboyant but that doesn't mean I'm supernatural!”
“Alright then, I have no idea,” Grantaire admitted. How was he to know? Yesterday he’d thought everyone he knew was human. He’d never really thought anything else was possible until this morning.
“Well Musichetta is a witch, Feuilly is a werewolf, and we aren't sure what exactly Jehan is but we think they're some kind of fae or something,” Combeferre explained. “Enjolras told us about everything when we were kids. Bahorel found out from Feuilly. None of us are supernatural. Enjolras is somewhere in the middle, with his family history.”
Grantaire took a moment to process this, taking a long sip from his water. “And I was bitten by a vampire chick trying to find out information about Enjolras.” This was stated as fact, not a question.
Enjolras nodded and crossed his arms. “It was only a matter of time before people realized I'm here. I just wish they had gone straight to me rather than trying to hurt you.”
“Awwwwe, Enj, you do care,” Grantaire teased, standing up and stretching.
“On second thought maybe she should have succeeded,” he teased back, prompting Grantaire to snicker. “You’ll probably want to finish eating and head home. Don’t you have a class this afternoon?”
“No, it was cancelled due to the prof being out of town, which was why I decided to go to the bar last night,” he explained, subtly yet with an air of defiance, not taking a bite of his toast. “Have you memorized my schedule?”
Enjolras sputtered. “What? No. I just know you’re one of the only ones taking summer courses so we’ve all gotten somewhat into the schedule that you two are on, for club activities.”
Grantaire just smirked at him for a moment before winking and taking a bite of his toast. “Whatever you say, Apollo.”
“Oh be quiet! The meeting for the monster hunters takes place after the activism club. Take a roundabout way getting back here so people won’t think this is where you’re coming. And don’t be too late, people might worry after yesterday.”
He smirked even more, a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. “Can’t make any promises.” Grantaire knew he had feelings for this guy, and he was pretty sure that Enjolras liked him back, or maybe just hated him more than anything else in the world. That only meant he would continue being his infuriating self until he saw his mistakes, or fell madly in love with him. Whichever came first.
Chapter 3: Minor Crisis at Meetings
Grantaire comes to terms with the facts of reality and Enjolras frets. Feuilly also tries his best to help.
Grantaire has a bit of an anxiety attack in here so if that bothers you feel free to breeze over that part. Next chapter is very different and stars someone else entirely.
There was doubt in Grantaire's mind as the meeting went into effect. It was just their average meeting, the one for the civil rights activism club on campus. He had been told to leave after the meeting and go the house that belonged to the trio, taking a roundabout way to get anyone who might be following him off of his scent, literally.
Grantaire honestly couldn’t believe this. They were a civil rights club, not a what? Monster hunting club? What was this, a long running cable show? No, this was the real world. There weren’t monsters. The chick who bit his neck had to be some kinky whatever who tried to take advantage of him, and his friends stopped her. His mind had to be messing with him. Yeah he still had the puncture wounds on his neck, but this couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t. He prided himself on being a realist bordering on pessimism. He couldn’t just start believing in fairytales out of nowhere.
And as he thought this, Feuilly walked in to their usual meeting place, and that whole train of thought crashed. Everything about the guy suddenly looked sharper: his cheeks, his chin, his teeth. The more interesting part was that his eyes were not the usual brown, but in fact gold, and almost glowing. Feuilly must have noticed him staring, because he approached him and sat down beside him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, a bit of a smile on his lips.
“I- um, well, I’m… speechless?” he stuttered, seeing the sharp teeth even clearer now, and the gold eyes, and just… all of it.
Feuilly laughed a bit, and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing back his amber curls. “Did they tell you what I am?”
“Well, yes, but I was in the middle of convincing myself that all this was just some joke, so I was a bit thrown off,” Grantaire admitted.
Feuilly laughed some more. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone reacts like this when they first see me. Even when I’m a human I don’t look entirely human. It changes depending on the time of the month though, I always look more wolfish closer to the full moon than any other time.”
Grantaire nodded, still very lost in all this. “Right, yeah, that makes sense. It’s almost the full moon, right? What happens then?” he asked, then quickly added, “Is that going over some sort of line? I’m okay with crossing lines when I know what they are, but not when I don’t know them.”
“It’s totally okay to ask, since you’re probably going to get dragged into it now. Enjolras has a room in his basement for this kinda thing. They lock me in there with plenty of meat and toys and I just spend my night there. Since I befriended them, it’s gotten a lot easier. I would hurt myself sometimes as a wolf because I didn’t know some of the tricks Enjolras knows, and Musichetta has stuff that helps keep me from being bloodthirsty and Eponine has her potions that help it hurt less,” Feuilly explained.
“Wait wait wait, what? Also what exactly is a witch? They said Musichetta was a witch but I don’t understand what that is in this context, considering the stereotype,” Grantaire said, rubbing his forehead.
“Well I’m not the best to explain that. For that information, I’d ask Eponine or Musichetta or Gavroche even, since he’s one too, though he’s taken to calling himself warlock lately for the drama of it,” he replied.
Grantaire laughed and took a sip of his soda. “Yep, that sounds like Gavroche. They really do magic or something?”
“Gavroche mostly does stuff to manipulate luck or something like that, and Eponine mostly makes potions. Musichetta’s tea shop doubles as a place she sells her magical wares. She makes like… items with magic infused in them. My necklace is what helps me,” Feuilly said, pulling the chain from under his shirt. The charm was some sort of symbol Grantaire didn’t recognize, but he assumed it was true considering the fact that the symbol seemed to glow.
“Thanks, it’s part of the reason I haven’t hurt anyone in a long time-”
As Feuilly said that, Enjolras cleared his throat and started the meeting. It went the same as all the meetings did. They updated the group on the news about their activities and problems around the world before turning to what they should do next. Grantaire kept back most of his snark this time, only adding things here and there to question Enjolras’ logic at times, and help strengthen the argument. He was too distracted with all this new information to make himself more of a bother.
Soon enough, the meeting had ended and everyone was slowly dispersing. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, everyone went about their business like it was an average day. How could they? Nothing was normal. Everything was changing, his whole world view had shifted. Still, he got himself together and headed out.
The walk back to the trio’s house was fairly uneventful. Grantaire noticed more and more people who weren’t exactly human, and he tried to force it into normalcy. This was, apparently, how things were. This was just how the world was. No reason to freak out every time he saw a supernatural going about their day to day business. He took his time getting there. Evening was always his favorite part of the day. No way was he letting his fear of the new and unknown take that away from him. When Grantaire finally arrived, he found Enjolras nervously waiting by the door for him.
“What took you so long?” he demanded. “It’s been an hour, I was worried that- Nevermind. Sorry. I’m glad you came.” Enjolras shook his head and allowed Grantaire to enter. His hair was pulled back in a bun and Grantaire felt his heart soar at the image on him standing there with the gold glow from the light inside shining around him. Dear God he needed to get over this crush as soon as possible.
Grantaire entered the building and followed Enjolras’ lead, back into the room he’d woken up in that morning. Most of their group was there, save a few. Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac were there, obviously, as were Feuilly, Joly, and Bossuet. Jehan was flittering by the window, and caught Grantaire’s attention as he looked around the room. They practically glowed in the light of the moon, their fiery red hair seeming to flow through the air as if blown by a soft breeze. Grantaire was fairly certain they didn’t normally look like that, or rather that wasn’t how he’d been seeing them before.
He took his seat between Bossuet and Joly on the couch. It was then that he noticed the designs on Bossuet's bracelets and Joly's cane glowed with the same energy as Feuilly’s necklace had. Right, of course. Musichetta must be taking care of her boys somehow.
“How are you feeling?” Joly asked, gripping his cane tighter. “Are you feeling anything strange after being bitten?”
“How are you dealing with all this? Feuilly said you were really worked up earlier,” Bossuet added. As he did, everyone else seemed to take it as a go-ahead to ask Grantaire their questions, all of them crashing into him like a flood as they drew closer to him.
“Do you remember anything from last night?”
“Do you remember what she looked like?”
“Are you handling all this stuff okay?”
“Have you hit the denial period yet?”
“Do you really want to join us or are you just here because we said to come?”
“Are you ready to hunt monsters?”
“ENOUGH!” Enjolras shouted, pushing the crowd away from the overwhelmed man and back to their seats. “He can answer your questions when we get to that. It's part of the schedule for tonight.”
Combeferre adjusted his glasses and looked up. “Yes. We will follow the normal procedure and then get to Grantaire. Here we go, I will now read the notes from the last meeting and then Enjolras will say an update on current events.”
Grantaire assumed that last bit was more for him than the others, but he hardly needed it, since it was the same meeting structure the other club had. Still, he felt like he was going to explode. With all this new information, and all of the eyes on him, he was feeling more and more overwhelmed.
It was like he'd ended up in the Twilight Zone. Everything was so familiar yet so wrong. It wasn't- this couldn't-. It was impossible. This was impossible. And it was all too much. Grantaire didn't know what to do. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be. This was all just- it just couldn't be- he just-
“Stop!” Grantaire shouted as he stood up, covering his ears. “Just stop! Stop messing with me! Just- I don't- I don't understand this isn't real this can't be real.”
“Theerree we go,” Courfeyrac said guiding the others further away to give Grantaire space.
“There's the denial,” Bahorel whispered to Feuilly, who nodded slightly.
Joly and Bossuet guided Grantaire back to a sitting position and rubbed his back to soothe him. “It's okay,” Joly said quietly, “It's going to be okay. I know it's a lot but you know it's real. You don't want to know that, but you do. Everyone goes through a phase where they think it's all a joke or something, but it isn't. You're okay. Can you take deep breaths with me?”
Grantaire struggled to calm his breathing enough to breathe in time with his friend, but slowly he managed to succeed. “This just can't be real. I don't understand.”
“This is why we didn't want to tell you,” Bossuet explained. “We knew how hard this would be on you, since you don't believe in much. We didn't want to put you through this.”
He took another deep breath and nodded. That made sense. “It's like everything is just different and there's no way back.”
“I know,” Joly said, stroking Grantaire's hair. “It gets better though, I promise. Nothing has really changed, just how you see it. Nothing is more dangerous or more mysterious now, you can just see the world for what it really is. That's not a bad thing.”
Bossuet nodded in agreement. “It isn't! It's just different. It takes time to get used to but it's not bad!”
Grantaire took a deep breath and sighed. “Yeah. I'm sorry I panicked,” he mumbled, rubbing his face.
“Don't worry, we've all panicked,” Feuilly said quietly in the corner.
“I haven't! I'm not sure I can feel fear. Not sure I'd recognize it if I did,” Jehan added cheerfully.
Bahorel pat their shoulder and said, “But you are an exception. Everyone else can panic.”
“Right, yes, okay, back on topic. Grantaire, it's okay to be overwhelmed by all this. You can take your time, get adjusted, before you consider joining us in our crusade,” Enjolras said with an air of authority.
Grantaire scoffed. “Oh hell no. I want in. No way I'm letting that chick get away with getting me drunk and hypnotized me and try to get information out of me THEN try to eat me. No way. I want in.”
Enjolras coughed, then nodded. “Yes, well then… alright… we are going on a hunt tomorrow night. Before then we can teach you how to fight the monster we're going after.”
“What did they do?”
“They've been eating innocent people, both supernatural and natural. We can't let this continue.”
“Then sign me the fuck up, I might as well help,” Grantaire stated with conviction, crossing his arms. Maybe he had ended up in the Twilight Zone, but he was stuck here now, so he might as well do his part.
The others seemed to accept this as rational thinking from Grantaire and continued the meeting. Grantaire didn't say anything else, just listened and took in the information. When it wrapped up he said his goodbyes and was about to head out, when he felt an arm grab him and pull him into the hallway to his left.
Before he could panic, he felt arms quickly wrap around him for a moment before letting go. "I'm glad you're okay. If you need anything explained or are ever in need, call me, okay? I'll do whatever I can," Enjolras said quietly, his eyes glowing slightly in the dark.
"Of course, yeah, yeah, of course I will," he replied, feeling himself growing flustered at the attention. Grantaire returned the quick hug and headed back out the door into the night.
Chapter 4: Marius is Miserable
Marius'... uh... problem... causes him to be kicked out of his apartment and he resorts to asking a dear friend if he could stay with him until he gets back on his feet, or rather, if he could sleep with him.
Sorry this is a day late! I completely forgot! This chapter switches narrators for a different perspective, and the next chapter might also be in Marius' perspective, but the chapter after that is a HUGE plot point.
Marius scrambled around his apartment, collecting his few belongings before his landlord showed up. He’d missed another payment and was well aware that he didn’t have the money to convince her to let him stay, not with how much trouble he’d caused. The money he had taken with him when he left his grandfather’s had dried up ages ago, and the bit he’d earned from doing jobs for his friends and teachers and such was hardly enough to feed himself let alone pay the rent.
You’ll never amount to anything. You’re welcome.
‘I didn’t say thank you, but thank you anyway, Corbett,’ Marius thought back, not pausing his actions.
You will never have money or friends or anyone who cares for you. Or, you will, but I will push them away. I always push them away.
‘Yes, I know. You’re talking as if this is new. You’ve been here since I was five, at least be more creative in your insults,’ he thought to him. ‘Please be quiet now, I need to focus.’
That’s exactly why I’m distracting you.
‘That’s just mean.’
That’s my job.
Marius sighed, annoyed, and tried to block the voice out as he finished packing his bags. As he went to close the suitcase, his thumb was moved a few inches over so when the lid closed, it landed on his finger. He swore and pulled it away, sucking on it because he had no other real option. Right as he did that, there was a knock on his door, and he scurried over to open it without thinking about the finger still in his mouth.
His landlord raised an eyebrow at him and handed him the paper. “You need to get out within twenty four hours,” she stated.
Marius pulled his hand out of his mouth after noticing it, and took the paper with the hand that hadn’t been in his mouth. “Thank you, you dumb stupid bitch,” he replied with the smile he could manage.
She gasped, insulted, and slapped him as hard as she could. “Now! Get out now!”
‘What did you make me say this time?!’ Marius thought, running inside to grab his cases. His thumb ended up in the same spot as before, causing him to shut the case on it again. He swore again, finally closing it and grabbing his other things before nodding politely to her and leaving as quickly as possible.
A dumb, stupid bitch!
‘First of all, rude. Second, that’s a bit redundant. You really are losing your touch. Don’t sound so cheerful about an uncreative insult.’
You’re the rude one.
‘No, it’s literally you. It’s you that does all this stuff.’
To everyone else, it’s you!
‘Yeah, well, I didn’t smash my thumb twice with my suitcase!’
Ah yes, I thought that was a nice touch.
‘It wasn’t bad. Better than the insult. Still, unnecessary. Everything that happens to me, happens to you. If she sends me to jail you’re stuck there with me.’
But it would be ruining your life! That’s my job!
‘I know, but it would make your job much less fun.’
This is true.
Marius headed to his friend’s home. He hadn’t had the chance to ask Courfeyrac if he could stay until he got back on his feet. Though Courf had said before that he could stay the night, Marius wasn’t sure his roommates would be okay with him staying for a little while. Marius didn’t really have any other options though. Bossuet had said he couldn’t stay over now that he and Joly had moved in with their girlfriend. He assumed it was because she was a witch, and they were worried he would get into something.
The walk there was fairly uneventful, though it was quite long. Marius stood in front of the door for a moment, trying to hear if anyone was inside. After taking another breath, he hesitantly knocked. There was a moment of silence, then one of quick stumbling, before the door flew open. Courfeyrac looked him up and down, clearly taking in the messy sight that he must have been.
“What brings you to my home so late?” he asked, likely assuming what was happening but not wanting to just pounce on that assumption.
“I’ve come to sleep with you,” Marius said, having no idea that he said what he said, and thought he’d said what he had intended to say, which was ‘I’ve come to ask if I can stay.’
Courfeyrac, however, did know what he said, and burst into laughter. “Okay, repeat that but one word at a time,” he said. He was aware that Marius said or did strange things at times, and had no idea he’d done them, but simply it was because he’d grown up so alone at his grandfather’s home.
Marius’ eyes widened. “What did I say?”
“You said, ‘I’ve come to sleep with you’. I doubt that’s what you actually meant to say,” Courf explained, falling into a new fit of giggles.
“Oh no no no I didn’t mean that at all! I was asking if I could-” Marius paused as he felt the pressure to say something he did not want to say. It was like a growing pushing feeling in his forehead, the longer he resisted. “If… I… could… sleep… with… you… here in this house for a while. My landlady kicked me out and I have nowhere else to go.” The pressure lessened as he said the words Corbett wished him to say, but the fact that he added on to save the statement left him grumbling in Marius’ head.
“Of course you can stay. There are plenty of empty rooms here,” Courfeyrac said, still smiling because even though the situation wasn’t funny, it was still kind of funny that the other was saying it the way he was. “You can’t sleep with me though, you have to take me out for drinks first, really get to know me. I’m not the kinda guy that goes for anybody, you know.”
Marius couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ll see about that,” he said, causing Courf to laugh again. “I-I mean I- well I don’t, I didn’t mean, I-” He blushed and looked away, curling in on himself in embarrassment.
Courfeyrac laughed harder and grabbed one of Marius’ bags. “Let me show you to your room, good sir,” he said, leading him into the house.
‘What was that?! What are you trying to do?! Get me together with my crush?!’
I’ve run out of insults involving you being a single virgin. I need more material.
‘Then I shall never date a soul.’
You can’t stop yourself. You’re a romantic.
As he entered the living room, he saw Combeferre and Joly sitting on the couch comparing skulls of what appeared to be a vampire and a cyclops. They looked up at him as they passed, but Marius guessed they didn’t know he could see the true nature of the skulls, because they didn’t bother explaining what was happening. Courfeyrac led him down a hall and to an empty room.
“Right, so you can stay here for now. I’m in the room to your left, so if you need anything I may or may not be in there. Are you okay?” he asked, rubbing his shoulder.
“Yeah! Yup, ye, I mean yes, I’m fine, thank you. I won’t settle in too much, don’t worry,” Marius replied, unable to keep himself from babbling with Courf’s hand on his shoulder.
Courfeyrac gasped as if insulted. “You will do no such thing! Marius, you are my friend, don’t be afraid to settle in. You can stay as long as you need. I know Enjolras and Combeferre won’t mind.”
He smiled bashfully. “Thank you. Yes, thank you…”
His friend smiled and pat his shoulder a few times before rubbing Marius’ head. “Of course, any time. You should let me do your hair sometime. I know you don’t want to cut it, but we can totally show you ways to make it behave more.”
“That would be great!” Marius laughed, blushing again because Courf’s hand was still on his head.
“I’ll let you get to it, don’t stay up too late!” Courfeyrac said, kissing Marius’ forehead and making a quick retreat.
Marius put his hands on his cheeks and collapsed on his new bed, trying to process what was happening. He was getting to stay in this nice house instead of on the streets, and Courfeyrac just kissed his forehead. Courf had always been very affectionate, but Marius couldn’t help but blush and be embarrassed at the attention he received.
It’s not going to last. You will ruin every relationship you will ever have.
‘Maybe, but at least not everything has gone wrong yet!’