Jehan led Marius into the living room. A dirty, tattered sofa, on which Courfeyrac, Grantaire and Feuilly were lounging aimlessly, was placed a few metres away from
a small television in the far-right corner. Mock the Week blared out. Enjolras was leaning against the wall, poring over a Robespierre book. "You couldn't turn that
down could you?" he muttered.
"Oh shush, E," said Feuilly. "Question Time is on soon, you'll like that."
"Good, let me know when." Enjolras returned his attention to the huge book in his hands.
"Jehan, light of my life, fire of my loins, come join us," said Courfeyrac, pulling said victim onto the sofa.
"No, that's cool," said Grantaire, who had been kicked in the face in the process. "I didn't like my nose the way it was anyway."
"Neither did we."
"I am going to hurt you."
Courfeyrac smirked, and ruffled Grantaire's hair. "Do you really mean it? Cos the bedroom's just upstair – Marius!"
Marius backed into the door. "Hey Courf,"
Jehan disentangled himself from the sofa, and jumped up. "Anyone want a drink?" As he bustled off into the kitchen, he called back through to the others. "So guys, Marius thinks he might be taking up our offer."
Feuilly perked up. "Really? Fantastic. We need another law student around here. What caused the change of heart?"
Marius shifted uncomfortably. "Well... my grandfather kicked me out."
"Oh, that sucks," said Grantaire, pulling Courfeyrac into a headlock. "Sit still will you? You're like a small child."
"Well the rent here's dirt cheap, so you're in luck. You getting a job?" Feuilly leaned over and switched the television off.
"Freelance translating, yeah."
"Fancy," said Grantaire.
"What caused the fight then?" asked Courfeyrac, his voice muffled through the cushion that had been shoved in his face.
"I'd... I guess I'd rather not say."
Jehan walked back in with a tray of mugs of tea.
"Jehan, my precious flower," said Courfeyrac, taking a mug coloured a shocking pink. "Are you on dinner tonight?"
"Jehan is on dinner every night."
"That's just because he cooks so beautifully, it would be a crime to let anyone else do it."
Jehan blushed. "Yeah, sure. That's the reason."
Grantaire was still eying Marius, who remained in the corner, twisting his fingers anxiously. "Don't worry Marius. My Dad hates me too."
"Helpful," Feuilly muttered under his breath.
"Poor Grantaire," snapped Enjolras. Marius started – he hadn't realised Enjolras had been following the conversation.
"Shut it, rich boy," said Grantaire, fixing his gaze on the scowling blond.
Enjolras returned his gaze and then sniffed. "I'll be in my room. Let me know when Question Time is on."
Grantaire watched him go, then stood up himself, pushing Courfeyrac away in the process. "Sorry Courf. I'm going to get some beer." And he too stalked out.
Marius moved aside to let them pass, his eyes following them in astonishment. Courfeyrac pulled him onto the sofa, and Jehan offered him some tea.
"Thanks Jehan. Did Enjolras and Grantaire have a fight?"
"When haven't they?"
Marius chose his next words with care. "They... they don't seem to get on very well."
Courfeyrac laughed. "Yeah, well the fact is R would walk through fire for Enjy. He's just not the best with uh... expressing his emotions, shall we say."
"E... well I guess E takes cynicism like Grantaire's as a personal affront."
"Unrequited love," Jehan said, dreamily.
Courfeyrac threw a cushion at Jehan and grinned. "Oh Jehan. Oh my god, guys, imagine E and R's couple name. It would just sound like everyone was permanently confused."
Marius let out a burst of laughter. As Feuilly shoved Courfeyrac off the sofa, spilling his tea in the process and causing him to squeal in shock, he decided that despite what had happened with Grandfather, having to live here wouldn't exactly be so bad.