"Aimé! Stop it!" Marius batted blindly and convulsed with laughter. "I'm ticklish!"

"I noticed!" Courfeyrac launched himself in Marius' direction and the string of jingle bells around his neck chimed and swung wildly. Marius shoved his chest and he fell backwards with a squawk, flailing his arms wildly, and only barely caught himself on the coffee table instead of falling off of the sofa.

Courfeyrac looked up at him with a flushed face and ridiculous grin, his hair just barely hanging in his eyes.

"You're drunk!" Marius cried.

"So are you!"

"Only barely!"

"That's what they all say, Maaarius. I could've broken my neck, you know. So thoughtless! I bet you would swoon if you broke my neck. And cry every night. Wouldn't you? You'd cry every night." Courfeyrac had taken on his usual playfully devious smirk. His necklace jingled as he straightened himself up.

"Men don't swoon!"

"Ha! Well you've certainly swooned!"

"I have not. When have I ever?"

"You know when. We were fencing. And it was hot and you fainted like a lady!"

"That isn't true! I should kill you for lying."

"Ah! But that would require a lie first." Courfeyrac beamed cleverly and appeared quite pleased with himself. "You wouldn't kill me anyway."

"I certainly shall if this conversation-"

"He lies! He wants to marry me, Jehan. I heard him say it! You would weep every day, beloved Marius! A terrible mistake it would be!" Courfeyrac fell backwards upon his lap in a dramatic fashion. "A life of regret! Courfeyrac, slain! Come, Marius, kiss me as I lay dying!"

"Kiss you! Courfeyrac!"

He craned his neck and pointed. "There's mistletoe! You have to!"

"On the other side of the room, yes!"

"It's on the ceiling, is it not? That means you have to."

Marius blushed furiously and pulled Courfeyrac by the hair in an attempt to remove him. "No it does not. You can't make up rules! And it doesn't count for men."

"I don't know, Marius, Jollly seems to think-"

"Joly's-Joly's different. Because they're both like that and we are not."

"What if I was? I think you'd be glad, Marius." Aiméry stretched the syllables of his name and rolled onto his side with a broad grin. His green eyes twinkled like tinsel in the light of the fireplace.

"I would not! I like women!" Marius cried. "And you do too!"

Courfeyrac giggled madly and swept his glass up to his lips with a loose, swinging motion and accidentally spilt some of its contents onto his chin. "Of course we do! But it doesn't have to be just women, if you want, that doesn't make you like that. It's not the-the eighteenth century, Marius! Everybody here does it. It's only normal human behavior. Like the Greeks!"

"It is not normal. And Enjolras doesn't."

"O ho!" Courfeyrac clapped gleefully.

"He doesn't!" Marius floundered.

"He does! He fancies our bespectacled friend! Mistletoe, Marius, you have to," Aiméry sang.

"You've made that up! And I'm not under it, so I don't have to." Marius finished off his glass of merlot and set it on the coffee table.

Courfeyrac grinned wickedly and leapt up from the sofa. "Very well. I suppose you're right. Come along, then, Marius!" Marius' eyes widened in alarm, but before he could escape, Aiméry snatched him up by the shoulders and legs and began a merry traipse across the room. Marius struggled and flailed like an oversized child. "You're mad! Put me down, Aimé!" he bleated. "I don't want to kiss your dirty mouth!"

"Dirty!" Aiméry nearly careened into the Christmas tree. "My mouth is very clean! If anything, it should taste like champagne and macarons!"

"I don't want your secondhand macarons, either, Courfeyrac!" He continued to thrash-although admittedly without his full effort-and hit Courfeyrac's arm repeatedly, but it was to no avail. When they were directly beneath the hanging sprig of mistletoe, Courfeyrac rather haphazardly dropped him on the silk loveseat and flopped down beside him.

"Now you're under it, and you have to kiss me. You'll have seven years of bad luck if you don't!"

"That's broken mirrors!" Marius said, straightening his collar. "You can't just go around picking people up against their will, either, Aimé."

"Have a little fun! And you'll still have bad luck. Missed opportunities!" Aiméry fixed a childlike smile on him.

"Missed opportunities!"

"Don't laugh! It's a very serious matter!" Courfeyrac hooked an arm around his shoulders. He was very comfortably warm. "You'll regret it if you don't! What's the harm of it? You want to!"

Marius rapidly shook his head and leaned away. "Stop touching me. I do not 'want to'! Do not. And if you've got crumbs in your mouth, I would never."

"Aha!" Courfeyrac nearly leapt out of his seat. "So you wouldn't never otherwise!"

"You don't make any sense." He could feel the heat rushing to his face. "Why are you so hellbent on this, anyway?"

"Because there's mistletoe! e have to! Kiss me! It's just fun, Marius, I'm not asking to wed you! Everyone does it. Look at Jehan! He did it!" Courfeyrac pinched his side. "Come on already!"

Marius jumped and shoved him away. "Stop it! And Jehan's homosexual, in case you hadn't noticed."

"But he did it!"

"Because he's homosexual!"

"Because he's able to have fun!"

"But it isn't fun!"

"O ho! I know quite a few ladies that would have to disagree with you on that one. And how do you know? You've never tried it, have you?"

"No! You don't have to try it to know that you don't like men. It would not be fun for me."

"You wound me! Why must you be so cruel to the ones you love?" Courfeyrac abruptly bent forward and pressed his lips to Marius'. "See? Innocent! Fun!"

Marius looked appalled. "I can't believe that you just kissed me!"

He flashed his brows with a mischievous smile. "We could do it again if you don't-"

"No, no, we don't ever need to do that again, ever-" He held his hands out.

"It was only fun! You don't have enough fun, Marius. Come on-aw, your ears are red. I think somebody's lying." Aiméry lifted a finger to brush one and Marius batted it away like a cat.

"You're foolish! I'm not lying. I have nothing to lie about." He folded his arms across his chest with a harumph. "And we did it, so you may leave me alone now."

"That was a demonstration. It didn't count!"

"Yes it did! Besides. If I did let you, you'd probably try to tongue kiss me or something-"

"Tongue kiss you!" Aiméry erupted into laughter and almost spilled what was left of his champagne. "I don't know where that came from, Marius! I don't recall any tongue kissing. But if you wanted to, I suppose I could-"

"No, no, I don't want to kiss you! We've run this rabbit through! You have to have somebody else to pester, Courfeyrac."

"I want to pester you."

"Well, you're doing a good job."

"Aw. I'm flattered."

"It isn't a compliment. Will you just-go-" He tried to push Courfeyrac out of his personal space, again, and failed, again. "You cling to me like a lamprey!"

"I cling to you!"

"Yes!"

"Well, if that is the case, Marius," he said, backing his companion up against the arm of the loveseat, "I don't think that you particularly mind it." Courfeyrac edged close enough to feel Marius' breath on his face, and a less theatric smile crossed his lips. "I don't think that you've ever raised any objection to it." Pontmercy swallowed and sat stock-still like a deer faced with a sudden noise. God, he was handsome, Courfeyrac decided. And he was entirely oblivious to it, too.

There was a loaded quiet between them. The decrescendo of the din on the other side of the room blurred, only partially due to their shared intoxication. Aiméry lifted a hand and wordlessly rested it upon Marius' arm. The bottom of the glass in his other hand came to rest on the coffee table.

It only took a moment for him to bridge the gap between them. Marius clutched his hair and clung to the coat on his back by knee-jerk reaction-who'd have thought?-and Courfeyrac rested a hand on the side of his face and seemed to stroke his chest and sides and shoulders all at once. Aiméry could hear his pulse rushing in his ears. A wave of giddiness washed over his senses.

Marius was not very good at kissing, but he was trying, and although he was awkward and ill-timed and clumsy, Courfeyrac didn't mind. He was handsome enough to compensate for that and he tasted like merlot and the chocolate things Prouvaire had brought.

It felt like an eternity before he finally withdrew from the warmth of his friend's body, and when he did, Marius tucked a few stray black strands behind his ear and fixed his eyes on the edge of the table. It took him a few moments to lift his head and offer an awkward smile.

Aiméry returned it with a ridiculous grin.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"