"Enjolras, if you fucking ruin this for us, you go in the closet. I'm not joking. I'll lock you in the goddamned closet."
"Oh, come on, Courfeyrac, I'm not that bad, am I?"
"Yeah. You really are," Marius said passing by, before resting his hand on Grantaire's shoulder.
"Are there gonna be girls? Cause, we should totally invite girls. Maybe Cosette will come. Yeah, let's invite girls," Marius said looking suspiciously dreamy. Even Grantaire raised an eyebrow.
"Have you been pre-gaming? And yes, dumbass, there will be girls. What do you think we're gonna have a party with just us? No, Marius. And if you want Cosette to come, you can invite her, I don't fucking know her! Who even invited you anyway? Now, both of you need to calm down, I've got a party to plan!" Grantaire grabbed the nearest bottle of Jack, and started drinking and walking around, yelling at everyone.
Enjolras and Combeferre shared a look.
"I think this is the most serious I've ever seen him about something," Enjolras remarked.
"Cheers to that," Combeferre said, raising a red solo cup. And Enjolras, despite his usual straight edge ways, picked up a cup and joined his friend. How much could one night hurt, anyway?
"You all are so fucking dumb." Enjolras said as Bossuet was carried out by Joly and Musichetta. His arm was bent at a peculiar angle, and Joly was stumbling about, yelling about how he wanted to "rage until the daylight broke" and Musichetta was threatening to kill them both, as she dragged Joly by his collar to her car. This wasn't even the first incident. Half an hour into the party Bahorel had to be taken out before he almost killed some guy who bumped into him, but that pretty much happened at every party.
"No, it's a party, Apollo. There's bound to be a few casualties to please the Party Gods. Let it happen," Grantaire whispers the last part in his ear, sticky words reeking of Jack and rum. Enjolras, shoves his arm off and stumbles into the kitchen, hoping to find other people he knew, instead of the girls grabbing at him, trying to grind up on him.
He tried to search for some sanity, god knows someone here can break this shit up, before nails dug into the skin of his arm. He jumped and turned around, only to be greeted with the savagely angry face of Eponine Thenardier.
"You!" She hissed at him, backing him into the wall. "You idiots invited my brother! He'll get eaten alive here, how dumb are you! He's only a freshman, dumbfuck!" She said, jabbing him in the chest with her sharp nails. Enjolras threw his arms up in surrender, not a common stance for him, he mused as he saw a camera flash in the background. Shit.
"I didn't invite anyone! I only knew about this party an hour before it started! It's Grantaire's fault, it's all his fault, and maybe Courfeyrac's fault too, probably five percent Marius, because he just ruins everything, but other than that, I know nothing!" Enjolras said in a drunken jumble. Eponine's eyes narrowed as she prepared to yell at him some more before she heard screaming and cheering as Gavroche entered the room on Courfeyrac's shoulders, shouting for body shots.
"Oh, hell no!" She ran over to them trying to shove through the crowd as Grantaire laid on the table, stripping off his shirt.
Enjolras watched as some girly drink was shoved into her hand by Jehan as he sprouted words of poetry as she unsuccessfully tried to make her way through the crowd as some redhead kissed her way down Grantaire's stomach, and he moaned loudly. Enjolras needed to be more drunk for this. Feuilly started singing about Poland or some other irrelevant bullshit, and Enjolras gave into the party as Eponine seemed to finally take a sip of her drink.
"Enjolras!"
Someone was screaming his name. He stumbled down the hall to see a girl sitting on the floor with an empty bottle of vodka next to her.
"Wha?" He mumbled, joining the crowd. It was Eponine on the ground, grinning savagely at him, waving the bottle around.
"I'm gonna do it!" She shrieked, crawling closer to him.
"Do what? Sorry babe, the bottle's empty," Enjolras laughed, he was clearly the smartest person here. Everyone else was cheering over some hot mess with an empty bottle like she was going to chug it or something. No such luck, everyone!
"No, Enjy! The cup song! You know the cup song!" She said excitedly.
Unfortunately, Enjolras did know the cup song. Fucking Joly watched that movie with Eponine about the singing teenagers and they memorized the song together and did it every chance they had. Before he could protest, Eponine started.
And by some miracle, her voice sounded ever sweeter when she was drunk. The slight slur was damn near endearing. However, the bottle smashed, sending glass everywhere, cutting her finger open. She screeched, and he dragged her by the wrist to the kitchen to Combeferre.
He pointed at her and yelled, "Fix her, fix it!"
Combeferre laughed, and pulled a bandage out, and picked out the tiny shard of glass in her finger, and fixed her up.
"Ew," she mumbled.
"There's not that much blood," Combeferre said, rolling his eyes.
"No. Ew," she said, pointing at the kitchen counter, where Grantaire and that same redhead were half undressed, and making out like it was the end of the world on the counter.
"I'm out," Enjolras said, leaving before Eponine and Combeferre could.
Before he could get back to the party, he heard the fucking devil whisper in his ear again.
"She's hereeeee," the voice whispered, creeping up the back of his neck.
Goddamn Marius.
"I don't care, Marius, just go and talk to her or something," Enjolras said, continuing to talk.
"But Enjolras, she's fucking radiant. She's like a golden rabbit of gold and promises and loooove!" Marius said, jumping up and down like a five year old. He looked over his shoulder to see Cosette shyly approaching. Perfect. He simply shoved Marius into her, and left him to deal with the consequences. Now, where was that keg?
He was on the couch watching Courfeyrac and Feuilly do some sort of horrid dance off, while his arm rested over some girls shoulders, and her fingers crept up his leg. He rested his head back, and grinned, knowing that for once, Grantaire had this party stuff right.
Combeferre was beside him, sprouting about Greek gods, and he just sounded way too cultured for his own good. Two hipster girls sat beside him, hanging on his every word, occasionally throwing in their own opinion, which Combeferre quickly dismissed as wrong, and they quickly agreed to please him.
Gavroche was in the kitchen, snapping up as much of the leftover alcohol as he could carry to bring back for himself and his friends. Sneaky little weasel, that one. Never trust a freshman.
Marius and Cosette had disappeared off to god knows where, and honestly, Enjolras couldn't care less. How did Marius even get involved in this anyway? Either way, he'd come back here, because it was Courfeyrac's house, and those two couldn't live a day without their little sleepovers. Most awkward kid ever. Jehan could be as bad as Marius sometimes, and even he was whispering sweet nothings into some blushing girl's ear.
Feuilly was singing Polish drinking songs, and Grantaire was cheering him on, and occasionally adding his own bits. Grantaire showed no signs of stopping, and was downing beer like there was no tomorrow.
And maybe there wasn't. Enjolras had never felt so alive. He drank it all in, and got high off it. This was a fucking revolution, this was worth fighting for.
Nope. He was wrong, seriously wrong. He woke up feeling like he had been trampled to death by every single person at that party. What was worse, was that he only remembered bits and pieces.
He woke up with breasts pressed against his chest, and a head nuzzled into his neck. When he jumped, Eponine moved, and threw the pillow over her head.
"Shuddup Enjy, let me enjoy this for a bit," she said before falling asleep again.
He was too shocked to do much about that, so he gingerly moved his arm to grab his cell phone to see his latest pictures.
First he had a photo of Bossuet at the hospital in a cast, with a grinning Joly flashing a thumbs up and an unhappy Musichetta holding his good hand.
Then a picture of Gavroche dancing on a table. Eponine wouldn't be pleased about that.
One of him playing Guitar Hero, and looking much too serious about it.
Another of Combeferre flipping the camera off, and looking absolutely pissed.
Images flipped by. A dancing Courfeyrac holding a mug of beer, Marius slobbering on Cosette, Feuilly crying for some reason, an angry snapchat of Bahorel home alone, Jehan lying on the floor giving a peace sign, and of course, Grantaire's face taking up the whole goddamned screen with the most annoying smirk he'd ever seen.
Before he could get mad at himself, he felt fingertips trace the side of his ribcage, which made him shiver, but at the same time ached a bit. He moved the blanket down to see Eponine smiling at the spot her fingers traced, sleepily mumbling, "I love it."
A tattoo. He should've known this would happen, with Grantaire's dumb 'home tattooing' kit. It was the most fucking unsanitary thing he'd ever seen, Enjolras could already feel a freaking infection coming.
Yet as much as he wanted to toss Grantaire off a cliff, because this all was entirely his fault, he couldn't help but smile with Eponine as her fingers laced so gently with his. The words on his rib cage really couldn't have been more suitable.
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light"
Wow so yeah, due to the success this had on tumblr, I figured I'd post it here! Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are always appreciated! x