#dammit grantaire

[hanhwrites]

I am filled with anger and depression and I am writing this paper on Enjolras, Grantaire, Achilles, and Patroclus. And I'm listening to my playlist 'fuck everything' and I realised I am afraid that I am almost grantaire and that I have no faith left in humanity and now the paper is about having hope. And I've almost hit the page/word limit for how much I can write but dammit if I'm not filled with anger and passion

[pilferingapples]

idk if you've already done this but i'm lowkey dying to know what you think all the amis (and co) would do career-wise in the modern day because i think about it all the time

OKAY SO

All of them are the planners REALLY even if Enjolras tends to be the one who really pulls it together Feuilly is the sharpshooter, this is canon

Bahorel , Courfeyrac and Legle take the in-person actor/Face roles as much as possible ; they also take the Daredevil, backup Muscle, and Thief roles, respectively, as needed

Enjolras is the muscle/combat monster

Combeferre is the tech specialist

Prouvaire handles the online social interaction, which is increasingly crucial these days

Joly is the lockpick and when needed the Distraction ; they've done so many of these missions they've lost count and STILL no one even suspects his involvement

Grantaire is the cook and the getaway driver when Bahorel's otherwise occupied

Together they do Leverage-esque Heists to try and make the world a better place already dammit

[valvertweek]

Hi I wanna say thank you so so much for hosting Valvert week again this year, it's genuinely been on my mind since you first posted about it for this year and I'm really really excited for it and I appreciate you so much for organizing it

hey I did it last year because I realized it's like. Valvert is the biggest ship in les mis. Within the fandom it's Enjolras/Grantaire but if you talk to a normal person who isn't in the trenches Valvert IS what les mis is about

And when I was making a new sideblog, checking urls, I found that this one wasn't claimed. And there was no event week for Valvert? Criminal.

Sorry, not criminal. Uh. Nefarious. Offensive.

Is this not the old man yaoi website? Is this not why we're here?

And so I hosted the week. Truly, hosting an event week isn't that much work but dammit someone needs to do it I can't just wait for someone to wake up and take the reins. Took matters into my own hands.

[euphraisette]

Ideal Enjoltaire dynamic is where Grantaire hits on Enjolras constantly and Enjolras is furious with himself for the fact that he's even SLIGHTLY tempted because by all rights he should not REMOTELY be attracted to Grantaire and he REFUSES to give in because the man is an ON-FIRE GARBAGE CAN and Enjolras has self-respect dammit but somehow the exasperatingly nonsensical drivel escaping Grantaire's mouth hole on a daily basis isn't making him any less attractive and it SHOULD BE

LMFAOOOO he was so attracted to grantaires absolutely swagless whimsy

[alicedrawslesmis]

#Grantaire miku binder @pureanonofficial

dammit I was done with this joke

Red!

[sovinly]

Les Mis JBM+R body swap

(Holy shit, this prompt is AMAZING, I love you. I may have to long-form write this sometime because oh my god, it could not happen to a more delightful group of disaster darlings. <3)

“I didn’t know it would do that,” Bossuet says, half apologetic,half cheerful as he picks himself off the floor. Grantaire’s spine gives acrackle as he stretches, and Bossuet grabs at his back instinctively. “Oof.Buddy. You have got to sit up more.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Grantaire mutters, still sprawledon the ground, rolling over and reaching for Joly’s cane. “My question is howJolllly wears skinny jeans every day, these are like, painted on.”

“Joint support,” Joly deadpans in Musichetta’s voice. Hecracks his fingers experimentally, then pokes at his cheeks. “This is so weird. Does anyone have a mirror?”

Musichetta, already doing her best Bossuet lounge againstthe doorway, laughs. “There’s one in my bag! This is super weird, I amdelighted. Bossuet, you’re like a cat, this is amazing. R, are you doing abeetle impression?”

“What, I don’t get to be a cat too?” Grantaire drawls, hissneer coming out more of a pout on Joly’s face, and promptly ruins the effecteither way by sticking his tongue out and wiggling to try to get a better gripon the cane. “Joly, are your arms actually shorter than mine?”

Rolling his eyes, Joly abandons his search of Musichetta’sbag and goes to lift Grantaire off the floor, staggering until the two of themcan coordinate their efforts better. He studies his usual face intently, thenscrunches up his nose. “See, I am verytempted to kiss your forehead, except that it’s my forehead, and this is the most bizarre.”

“Nothing said anything about body switching,” Bossuetprotests, with an anxious glance at the magical mystery cube, innocuous andgold where it sits on the coffee table, no longer glowing. “Should I poke itagain? Do you think we’d all just switch?”

“Probably?” Musichetta offers, shrugging. “But, okay,consider, let’s not touch it until wefigure this out. And okay, look, I kind of want to be the tall friend for oncebefore we try to switch back. You guys, I can reach the top shelf right now. Let’s not hold Laigle liable justyet.”

“This is every scifi nerd’s dream, and we are all horrible,horrible scifi nerds,” Grantaire agrees, draped against Joly-as-Musichetta ashe slowly stretches out Joly’s legs. “Consider the ways we could fuck withpeople.”

“Consider the experiments we could do, though!” Jolystraightens, beaming. “Oh man, there’s somuch stuff, and we can never tellCombeferre.”

They all fall silent, contemplating that.

“Never,” Bossuetagrees solemnly, “unless we get stuck and need him to save us from ourselves.Until then, I want to know what strawberries taste like. And also whatGrantaire looks like in clothes that actually fit.”

“Fuck you,” Grantaire says, flipping him off with his freehand. “Shit, Joly, your joints have like, no feedback, how do you not breakeverything all the time?”

Joly pats Grantaire’s shoulder. “Practice. But if it makesyou feel better, I am amazed that Musichetta wears heels so often? This is so weird. I mean, really cool, but so weird. I feel like we should beworried about like, the abstract ethical questions about taking up residence insomeone else’s body? Like, is it weird if I play with Musichetta’s curls when I’mthe one who has them?”

“Not at all, darling,” Musichetta says. “Though, woah, I seewhat you mean about kissing myself, that’s the weirdest thing! Everything isquestions forever!”

“Is it weird that I kind of want to be everyone?” Bossuetasks, trying to lean against the wall and mostly ending up in a strangehalf-slouch. “Because I kind of want to try being everyone.”

Grantaire snorts. “Right, well, maybe we should have a drinkand also lunch before sorting out the ethics of body-swapping consent? BecauseI need a drink, even if that’s all Joly can handle.”

“Excuse me, I am a very efficient drinker,” Joly sniffs. “Bodyswapbrunch, though, yes, let’s do it! Though, uh, Musichetta, dearest darling, canI borrow some flats first, please?”

[a-heart-full-of-dumb]

I just need to talk about the dynamic between Grantaire and Enjolras in the Dutch tour I saw yesterday cause holy shit it was good

I saw an understudy for Grantaire (Leon de Graaf) and the main actor for Enjolras (Mark Roy Luykx) so I am not sure if this dynamic is different with the main actor for Grantaire.

The moment we get introduced to Grantaire in red and black he's sitting at a table in the corner, already very clearly very drunk. He's joking with Bossuet, already making a mockery of the whole revolution while also desperately glancing at Enjolras.

The moment Marius comes in and starts rambling about love, Grantaire perks up, sensing there's something he can go along with to maybe get Enjolras's attention (but also cause 'finally something interesting happens' as he's definitely still a bit of an asshole at this point) and full on throws himself into Marius's arms and plants himself on his lap while Enjolras is staring daggers into his back. During the end of Grantaire's solo as his bottle gets thrown around the backroom, Enjolras catches it and Grantaire nearly stumbles over his feet coming to a stop in front of him. The look on Grantaire's face omg. I genuinely expected cartoon heart eyes to pop out if his. The man definitely admired, loved, and venerated Enjolras. During Enjolras's scolding speech to Marius, Grantaire makes a very big mockery of it, jokingly marching around the room, making funny faces, etc. But when he notices Enjolras doesn't notice it, he sits back down.

He keeps drinking and mocking and laughing loudly at everything during the remainder of the song until the point where Gavroche comes in with the news that General Lamarque had died. The moment Enjolras starts about how they will rise on the funeral day, Grantaire drops his mockery and just panics. The fear and sadness in his eyes as he looked at Enjolras omg. Enjolras, again, doesn't notice.

From this point on, Grantaire seemingly only uses his mockery as a mask and a way to get Enjolras's attention.

At the start of act 2, after the dogs will bark flees will bite part, Enjolras hands Grantaire a rifle. Grantaire gives Enjolras a surprised look and then looks at the rifle like he had never seen one before. He shakes his head, hands the rifle to one of the woman on the barricade and storms off stage. (Immediately followed by a worried looking Bossuet.) Enjolras doesn't see this either. Nor does he notice Grantaire's spiraling from that point on. All he sees is the mockery, the laughing, the pointing, he just hears how loud Grantaire will laugh at his statements. This is what Grantaire seemingly wanted him to see too.

Then drink with me happens. At the end of their solo's, Feuilly, Jehan and Joly are standing next to each other as Grantaire pushes himself through them, laughing and exclaiming loudly "drink with me!" The others laugh as well, being used to this behaviour from Grantaire. At first Enjolras just shoots a glance into his direction, but the moment Grantaire goes onto his next line, Enjolras keeps an eye on him as if intrigued by what might happen. The moment Grantaire mentions death he nearly starts a fight and sends Joly into another panic attack. Enjolras decides that that's his que to come in and climbs down the barricade.

He stops maybe a few metres in front of Grantaire, but he doesn't look mad. The expression on Enjolras's face was kind and soft and concerned. This seems to be the first time Enjolras really sees Grantaire without the mockery. He's now standing in front of an emotional and terrified man. Enjolras starts to say something (the audience doesn't hear what) but Grantaire cuts him off. Enjolras goes to pull Grantaire into a hug, but Grantaire pushes him away. Enjolras tries again, Grantaire pushes him away again and storms past him. He leans against a wall at the side of the stage, his back turned to the others and sobs. Enjolras stares at his back for a few seconds, looking sad himself before going back to the barricade. Gavroche had run after Grantaire and pulled the man into a hug as Grantaire kept sobbing.

Grantaire continues to spiral even harder from that moment on. Completely collapsing after the death of Gavroche and I genuinely thought he was gonna drink himself to oblivion.

Then the final battle happens. Grantaire starts it the same way he went trough all the battles so far, slumped in a corner, drinking heavily. When Marius gets shot however and falls to the ground both Grantaire and Enjolras run over to him. After checking Marius's pulse Enjolras stands up to go back to the barricade, but Grantaire just clutches and clings to him and pulls him back down. Enjolras frees himself from Grantaire's grasp and holds Grantaire's face with both hands. Grantaire says something to him we can't hear as an audience, looking completely desperate. Enjolras says something back. Again we don't hear what.

Enjolras goes back to the barricade but instead of following him, Grantaire does the only thing he can think of. He reaches for his bottle. Looking determined to drink himself to death. After one sip however, he changes his mind and rushes back to the barricade, ready to follow Enjolras this time. But he gets pushed back by the other amis. They won't allow him onto the barricade and its as if they're trying to get him to leave this place and safe himself. So Grantaire has to helplessly watch how Enjolras gets shot and killed. Grantaire is looking completely overwhelmed and desperate and sad and like he doesnt know what to do with himself anymore. However something changes in Grantaire as he sees Enjolras die. He freezes up for a few seconds, before standing up straighter than he'd done before, determined he pushes back the last remaining amis, who are still trying to get him to leave and starts climbing the barricade as the last of the students get shot. Looking more steady, determined and sober than he had done the entire musical, he reaches the top of the barricade, spreads his arms and gets shot.

[unionrags123]

Victor Hugo wrote a lot.

Victor Hugo took ages to get to the point.

Except for when “the point” was killing off half of Les Amis.

[littlesmartart]

LES AMIS BAND AU

Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Combeferre are a political activist band, and Grantaire is a YouTuber who has a specific segment on his channel dedicating to critting their latest work...

Faceclaims: Enjolras - Hyoie O’Grady + Aaron Tveit, Grantaire - George Blagden, Courfeyrac - Rudy Mancuso, Combeferre - Nathan Stewart-Jarrett, Jehan - Caleb Landry-Jones, Eponine - Antonia Thomas

special guest appearance by @soapesque

[andromedaa-starss]

les amis and their instruments

bc musician!amis is something that can be so personal

enjolras: violin. and other string instruments, but he prefers the violin. their nails are always clipped really really short.

combeferre: any brass instrument, but heavily prefers the french horn. it calms him down. he hates it when courf makes inappropriate jokes abt playing it.

courfeyrac: the saxophone. tbh he could technically play any saxophone but he plays alto sax. they know many songs. probably dozens! but all they play is careless whispers. he's memorized it. everyone sends him sheet music for other songs and pieces. he will not play anything else. help.

feuilly: clarinet. the man can also improvise like nobody's business.

grantaire: guitar, all kinds. no this isn't inspired by george blagden what are you talking about? he's got both short and long nails and it drives everyone crazy. he can also play piano (and drive marius mad with the click of his nails on the keys)

joly: he can't play anything but they can dance. they're a very skilled dancer. but no instruments.

bossuet: used to play tuba before that proved to be a dangerous decision. now plays percussion which is safer. favorite instruments are the tubular bells.

musichetta: any string instrument but has a soft spot for the viola. she's fucking amazing at it. she was made for the spotlight dammit.

jehan: flute. i mean, it's canon. also they've tried to compose things but they got distracted. alas! if you open a certain door you will be flooded with thousands of wips.

bahorel: drums. drums drums drums. the master of drum rolls and fills. he can also play the trumpet but like, badly.

marius: used to play piano, now plays cello. he was forced to play piano and only plays it if he wants to. he duets with enj, r, or chetta sometimes. like enjolras their nails are clipped short (but not as short as enj's)

cosette: she sings and plays the harp. her voice is angelic and lovely and basically what im saying is i love her. also saying this rn my voice hc for her is 1980s concept album cosette.

eponine: plays some guitar with the help of grantaire. they duet sometimes.

gavroche: one (1) very loud kazoo.

[porktato]

pssst if you're still doing the palette thing: grantaire in heartache and/or enjolras in cigarette smoke? ily ur art gives me life

HA, WHY NOT BOTH??? AHAHHAHAHA, WAS THIS SOME REVERSE COLOUR SHIT BC GREENTAIRE AND REDJOLRAS IS OPPOSITE, AM I GETTING THIS GROOVE RIGHT

edit: this post has been up for like, not even a minute, and I had to fix R’s hand because holy FUCK it was terrible

[pilferingapples]

So replying to this very good post, I realized two things:

-Grantaire wants Revolutionaries Without Revolution.

-... this is a big Romanticism thing. This is a HUGE Romanticism Thing--looking around for roads to the glory and awesomeness that the Empire had once promised after its collapse, and trying to find it in art.  The struggle to find a way to be Really Important in a new setting where there IS no permanent conquest, Except By Convincing.

..I’m not saying Grantaire wants Great Men to be like Hugo but. But of course he does. DANG IT VUGS *puts head on table, taps out for 48 hours solid*

[serinesaccade]

I am back and i loved the ending so much. like. R thinking the marriage was a punishment?? holy fuck. Them fucking over Es parents for daring to fuck with courf and ferre?? perfect. There still being a little tension over the start of the relationship and the bond mark cause that stuff doesn’t go away overnight?? ideal. I would love to see like, an exploration of what weird ‘ideal alpha who’s bad at it” stuff comes out when they have an established relationship cause you set so much of it up so well. great fic 11/10, will read again.

<3 <3 yes yes yes

it is ideal that you enjoyed. R has been under the wrong impression for a looooooong time so I'm glad I finally got him to the right place which is not "i drive him crazy he hates me" but "i drive him crazy he LOVES me." they all FIGHT. for their FAMILY

yeah it is also important to me that their history doesn't just disappear like! they can't ignore it they need to grow with it and respect it and they definitely work towards that

um as for the exploration here's some below the cut. i'm not 100% certain what you were looking for but there's a bunch of them lol. if you have a specific one you want you can lemme know

"ideal alpha who's bad at it" comes up in a ton of lovely ways that terrify passerby which is:

-he and grantaire argue! like with love now but they DO disagree on things and get very passionate about their points of view and in general that just doesn't happen! like many alphas in grantaire's time have treated his opinions as silly/"cute" bc of his status and Would Never get to the point where they're like laughingly wrestling on the floor of the musain bc enjolras wants to see that website with figures he's got pulled up dammit is it verified LET HIM SEE

-grantaire generally avoids getting him to throat yield in public not bc it's shocking but bc it's A Thing for them as a couple. but he DOES do it occasionally on accident and in those scenarios strangers are just. um. wut. and the ABC are like "ugh again can you get a room"

-like a lot of omegas are super attracted to enj but there are also many who are scared of him. alphas can be a lot! and enjy is generally less aware so oftentimes if they have someone come in to ask the ABC for help he's like *stands close* "tell me everything" and it's. scary. grantaire and the others do a great job of just *nuzzle* *hang off enj's shoulder* "yeah listen he's a teddy bear. he does have teeth but he won't use them on you"

-a lot of alpha-omega pairs get super possessive (bc of socialization) and enj and grantaire are just? not like that?? grantaire gets insecure sometimes but it comes out differently, so both of them are just generally chill. bc of this and their general mismatch in personality and conventional hotness most strangers assume enj is single or dating triumvirate. of course, at some point grantaire walks by and enj is just *zone out in r's direction* *scent intensifies* "excuse me for a minute i just have to" *lil kiss*

-grantaire is actually a little insecure that his "gross" scent is going to fuck enj's up bc yeah, when you bond or scent a lot you smell like each other! but of course enj wears this super well too bc that's. enjolras. like the sunflower and general earthiness really tempers and complements the intensity he normally puts off and does actually make him a little more approachable but still SO HOT. mm imagine toasted sunflower seeds at a bonfire YUM

-courf has been enj's aid in intricate social situations that require use of your nose, which enj demonstrably sucks at, but now he also has grantaire who is Really Good At It like he is very good at people it's almost alarming. enj is also generally pretty private, even with courf and ferre by accident sometimes! r is really good when giving advice at getting him to explain the environment, his thoughts, presenting alternate explanations for people's behaviors

-usually when you bond it's mutual and the social expectation is for alpha to be caretaker and omega to be cared for. that being said r's been bonded for a long time and enj hasn't and he doesn't expect to be cared for but in the after of r bonding him he's just... "hold me? please? i'm having a lot of emotions right now and it's also upsetting that you felt like this alone for so long." which. of course r holds him. Once the bond's mutual they generally get waaaay happier they just. they like how it feels and how it transforms r's bond into part of their happy rl

[milynya]

Enjoltaire - Painting

Grantaire wasn't much of a painter. Not enough patience to study the complex techniques and he had a habit to waste his money on other things than the equipment. He sighed deeply and took a mouthful of his cheap wine, squinting at the sketch in front of him, only illuminated by a candle, because he was fucking pathetic like that. Charcoal, a completly different medium. His favourite, maybe because it fit his own personality so well. Black or white, nothing in between. He had always been attracted by extrems. Grantaire sighed again and rubbed his hurting neck. And maybe that was the problem as well with his latest sketch: his subject was too multi-layered. Black and white wasn't enough to capture all the qualities and features, not in the slightest. But Jesus, he hadn't touched colours for quite a time... Grantaire smoothed the corners of his sketch book and closed his tired eyes. There he was, burned into the inside of his lids, in bright colours. In all his blood-red fury for social justice, all the sun-yellow affectionate glow for his friends and all the shades of purple fitting his usual concentrated calm. He could not NOT draw him or else he wouldn't leave from inside his head and he would never find sleep. Again. He didn't sleep properly for days and weeks, since he came to Paris. Beautiful, animated Paris with all its cafés and charming places. But for him, there was something unsettling about the city. He couldn't quite place the finger on it, but... Sometimes a face in the crowd could shake him to his bones. The sight of certain streets could make him spill tears, buildings could make him smile like a mad man. Most exhausting were the dreams: They were full of chaos, despair and yelling. And of course this face of a man he never met, but had somehow memorised by heart. Grantaire stood up heavily and searched his cupboards for his most vibrant colours. He was so very tired, he almost fell of the chair as he was browsing the top shelfs standing on his tiptoes. There they were, oil paints, bought in a period of brief inspiration and then never touched again and almost forgotten. He weighed them in his hands, everything that happened afterwards disappeared in the haze of his clouded mind. Maybe it was the wine's fault or maybe he was capable of sleepdrawing after all, weirder things had happened to him by far. He came to his senses, as the morning light flooded his kitchen in golden rays. With a growl Grantaire lifted his head off the table and rubbed his tired and bleary eyes. A second was spent by looking at the colourful tips of his locks. Red, yellow, purple, the shades of a sun set. Did he try to dye it? No, he must have fallen asleep too close to the palette. His glance grazed the paper in front of him, filled with spiraling colours, forming the shape of a familiar body, well known posture of shoulders and a face that had accompanied him for days and months. Grantaire touched the dried streaks of colours that twirled into a crown of glowing hair, softly followed the line of intense eyebrows and caressed the open, beautiful and more relaxed curves of the lips. It got worse every night. This face who haunted him, it became more concrete, more defined every night. He had to paint it, over and over again. And he didn't even know his name. Edit: Well, shit. Tumblr is still a mystery to me, I accidently posted too early. Goddammit!!

[transrevolutions]

I had the best fucking idea last night. It’s probably been done before but still.

Les Mis but it’s a D&D session in a modern AU.

Cosette’s the DM, because she wasn’t actually on the barricades. She and Musichetta collab on the story. Just... imagine.

“I roll dexterity to save Marius!”

“Eponine, you’re not going to-”

“Five!”

“Okay, um, you save Marius but get shot in the process.”

“No! I- um- do I have healing spells?”

“Marius, hon, you aren’t a healer-”

“DAMMIT!”

“Eponine dies in Marius’s arms because her saving throw was a critical miss. Sorry babe.”

“Fuck this, I’m out. Hand over the cookies.”

*five minutes later*

“Bossuet, it’s your turn.”

“Okay. I roll to shoot the enemy.”

“All right, go ahead.”

“One. Critical miss.”

“Well, you shoot, but you don’t hit the enemy, instead you hit Courfeyrac in the arm. You’re also out of ammunition.”

“SHIT!”

*ten minutes later, everyone is dead but Marius, Enjolras, and Grantaire*

“Okay Enjolras, you’re cornered. What do you do?”

“Um, the people will rise?”

“Roll persuasion.”

“Three?”

“The people don’t rise. Sorry dude, you’re gonna die. Grantaire, you’re next.”

“I run up to Enjolras and grab his hand. We can die together.”

“Grantaire, c’mon-”

“Listen, I have an art gallery showing in an hour, I need to get this campaign over with.”

“All right, I guess. You grab Enjolras’s hand. You both die. Game over, sorry.”

“Wait, is Marius still alive?”

“Oh shit, he is! How are you still alive, Marius?”

[sovinly]

For your ficlet prompts: Could I have something with R and Combeferre, maybe for "I... Im surprised you knew that. No one else can wax pedantic quite so poetically." Please and thank you and you're wonderful and I hope life is being good to you.

(Thank you so much for your long bout of patience! You’re always the loveliest and wonderful, and I hope life is treating you well! Life has been rather absurdly busy lately, but I’ve finally gotten to this prompt and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! <3 It’s, uh, sort of shippy? Pre-shippy? Everyone here has a lot of emotions and is kind of a disaster at having vulnerable conversations about awkward subjects. XD)

There’s a heavy silence, growing the awkward the longer itsits unanswered.

“I... I’m surprised you knew that,” Grantaire finally says,when the wait becomes too much. He clears his throat nervously, fidgets with aloose thread on his shirt hem, tries for a grin. “No one else can wax pedanticquite so poetically.”

Combeferre smiles back, gentle and maybe a little anxious atthe same time. “You pick up quite a bit, practicing for my line of work.”

“No, I know that,” Grantaire agrees, and sighs deeply,slumping in his chair. “It’s just the difference, between, y’know, knowing thatyou and Joly can give me clinical rundowns of statistics of having a fucked upbrain, and you peeling me apart like an onion.”

“If I’ve overstepped…” Combeferre starts, with a prodigious frowndigging furrows in his brows.

Yes, Grantaire wants to say, and yes. But he did, after all,ask for it. Has shared things, because he’s trying to open up a little more,these days. Especially with Combeferre, who has a sharp mind and a soft heartworn on his sleeve.

Grantaire’s heart is an apple left in the sun, and histongue is a scalpel’s honed edge. He’s not sure how they meet, but he’s trying.

“No,” Grantaire says, inches his hand closer to brush theedge of his pinky against Combeferre’s. “You’re right, those are all thingsthat are… true. How the fuck you understand my family better than me is deeplyironic. I’d ask if you wanted to swap places, but wow, I would not inflict thaton you.”

He’s thought a thousand times he’d shove anyone into hisplace, like a drowning man flailing for a breath. It’s made him guilty andbitter and angry, but it’s hard to be any of those things around Combeferre.

“We’ve been friends for a while,” Combeferre points out,with remarkable gentleness and a dry edge that eases any sting of it. “As itturns out, I have a lot of feelings about seeing my friends upset. Familydynamics are always a touchy subject, but, uh-”

“A hot button issue?” Grantaire asks, drier still. SoCombeferre waxes as eloquent on familial dysfunction as on governmentalpolicies and renewable energy. It makes it easier to swallow, that Combeferrejust cares in general, and in the specific because they’re friends, rather thanthe opposite. It’s easier to be cared about on principle. Grantaire’s still notsure he has principles, when people are looking at him. “Do you want to pretendthis conversation never happened?”

And Combeferre’s eyes are still intent, a little apologetic,much too kind, but Grantaire is weirdly fond of it. Combeferre smiles again,though he clearly doesn’t expect either of them to actually dismiss this weirdwhole conversation, and taps his knuckles against Grantaire’s forearm, aglancing touch. “Would you rather hold some rats and we can trade fun rat factsinstead?”

“I,” Grantaire proclaims, relieved and grateful andawkwardly a little touched, “would love that. D’you know much about thesymbolism of mustelids in art?”

“No, but go on,” Combeferre says, and grins shamelessly atGrantaire. “No one else can wax pedantic quite so poetically, after all.”

Grantaire rolls his eyes heavily, but snorts in laughter allthe same.