Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created for fun and no profit has been made.
Notes: This is my first Les Mis story. I hope you enjoy it.
Written for: makinghugospin, for this prompt


You see, it isn't like Enjolras didn't know Grantaire and Courfeyrac were always in each other's pockets.

Even before Enjolras and Grantaire started dating, he knew it. Courfeyrac was Grantaire's roommate after all, and they had been best friends pretty much since they exited their respective wombs. Even when they went out to bars, they touched each other so easily, always touching each other's arms, leaning up against each other, and hugging. They even kissed a few times when particularly drunk. Enjolras knew that they had never done anything else though.

That's why Enjolras was a little embarrassed that he was still so jealous.

Perhaps he had expected Grantaire to reduce the amount of affection he indulged in with Courfeyrac, now that he could get it from him. But, then, it was also true that Enjolras had never been very tactile. Grantaire was the first person he had ever been with, or even really had the inclination to be with. Enjolras was, however, self-aware enough to know that he was more than just a little jealous of Courfeyrac's easy affection with his boyfriend.

Enjolras also knew that it wasn't rational to think that Grantaire would cheat on him either, but he had never been reasonable when it came to Grantaire, had he?

So, after the nth time of seeing his boyfriend and Courfeyrac spooning on the couch and being relegated the armchair, Enjolras decided that he had had enough.

It was time to call in reinforcements.

xXx

"I don't know, Enjolras. I think it's a good thing."

"What?" Enjolras said, blinking at Jehan. They sat together in the Café Musain; Enjolras had approached Jehan at his table while he was working on his latest poem. He had informed him of the situation.

Evidently, he had not expected that answer.

Jehan fiddled with the little gold ring with the rose on it that Courfeyrac had gotten for him on their anniversary. "I mean, well… I guess I mean that I think it's good that Courfeyrac has a friend that he's so close to, you know? That kind of relationship is rare."

"So… you're not jealous? At all?" Enjolras said, leaning towards him.

"Of course not," Jehan replied. "I think it's adorable."

"Adorable?" Enjolras said. "What?"

Jehan frowned a bit at Enjolras, "You're usually a bit more articulate than this." He paused, and then continued. "But, yes, adorable," he grinned broadly. "They're so cute…like little puppies or two little baby birds all cuddled up on a branch…" He sighed, happily.

Jehan then caught the look on Enjolras' face and cleared his throat. "…and, well, it isn't as if Courfeyrac doesn't tell – or show – me in other ways that he loves me." He smiled a little sheepishly at that. "Anyway," he said, "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about, Enjolras." Then, he saw someone behind Enjolras, and his eyes sparked with recognition. "Is that Combeferre?"

Enjolras paled. Combeferre was perhaps the only person who would attempt to reason with him, only it wouldn't work and he'd feel even worse. "Would you look at the time?" he said loudly. "I really must be going."

Confusion crossed Jehan's face, "Really, why?" he said.

"It was great talking to you, Jehan," Enjolras continued, ignoring his question. He stood, put on his messenger bag, and grabbed his coffee from the table. "I'll see you around, okay?"

He turned to see Combeferre standing right behind him. "Hey, Combeferre," he said. "So great to see you, but I really must be going."

Combeferre raised a single eyebrow and said, "All right, then. See you at the meeting tomorrow?"

"Definitely," Enjolras replied, before moving around Combeferre and walking away.

Before he was earshot, he heard Combeferre ask, "So, what's up with him?" He nearly jogged out of the café.

Obviously, Jehan didn't see the problem he had. Perhaps he just needed to let it go...or maybe he needed a new plan.

xXx

That night, Enjolras and Grantaire lay next to each other, breathless, in bed. He looked over at Grantaire; sometimes Enjolras wondered at how anyone could think his lover was ugly, as he certainly was not. He observed his naked form covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his hair even crazier than usual, and his lips red from love.

Grantaire looked back over at him, and grinned broadly. He then rolled over towards Enjolras and kissed him sweetly. Grantaire pulled away with a smile and said, "I love you."

Then, he rolled away from Enjolras, to the other side of the bed.

Maybe he wants me to be more affectionate, and that's why he's going to Courfeyrac, Enjolras thought. He might not be satisfied with how much I touch him.

Enjolras gathered his courage and followed Grantaire to the other side of the bed, pressing himself up behind him. He molded himself around Grantaire's body, burying his nose in his hair and putting his arm around his waist.

Grantaire turned in his arms. "Hi?" he said sleepily.

"Hey," Enjolras smiled.

"You don't usually do stuff like this," Grantaire observed with a yawn.

Enjolras stiffened, suddenly feeling awkward. This was what he was afraid of; maybe he just didn't know how to show affection, and that's why Grantaire didn't want it from him. Grantaire just wanted to save them from his awkward attempts.

"What?" he said defensively. "Can't I hold the man I love?"

"I never said I didn't like it," Grantaire said, snuggling into his chest. "It's just different, is all." A moment passed; then, Grantaire said, very quietly, "You said you love me?"

"Well, yes," Enjolras blushed, suddenly thankful for the darkness of the room. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You never said it, though," Grantaire responded. He looked up at Enjolras, a half-crazed, deliriously happy look in his eyes. He then pushed him on his back and kissed him long and hard. They broke the kiss, and Grantaire laid his head on Enjolras' chest, and sighed in their embrace with a smile, tangling their legs together.

"I love you," Grantaire murmured.

"I love you too," Enjolras replied, half-asleep.

However, things are never fixed that easily.

Enjolras realized that the next evening at the Café Musain, where the Amis de l'ABC met every week. Not everyone had arrived yet, although he had seen Feuilly and Bahorel at the counter.

"Hey, Enjolras," Courfeyrac said.

Grantaire was seated on Courfeyrac's lap, his arms looped around his neck. Courfeyrac held him, his arms wrapped around his waist. Jehan sat next to them, writing feverishly in a notebook.

"Hello," Enjolras said, smoothly, trying not to bristle.

"Hey," Grantaire said, with a broad grin.

"So," Courfeyrac said. "I heard you and Grantaire had a fun night last night." He winked and Grantaire flushed, taking a sip from his coffee.

Enjolras fought hard not to lash out. "Indeed we did, thank you," Enjolras said coldly. Courfeyrac did not seem to notice Enjolras' tone; however, Grantaire did and he looked up at him, brow furrowed.

Luckily, at that moment, Enjolras felt a hand come down on his shoulder. "Can I have a word with you?" Combeferre whispered into his ear. Jehan and Courfeyrac had already moved onto talking to Feuilly and Bahorel, who had just returned with their drinks.

Enjolras looked back at him and said, "Can it wait? The meeting is about to start."

Combeferre's mouth pressed into a firm line and he said, "No, now." Grantaire watched Combeferre pull Enjolras away with a frown.

He guided Enjolras into the little alley beside the café, where they stood opposite from each other.

"Well?" Enjolras said. "What's so urgent?"

"Okay, I know something's going on with you," Combeferre said. "You only avoid me when you don't want to talk about something. So, what is it?"

"It's nothing, Combeferre, I promise," Enjolras lied. "Come on, let's go inside."

"No," Combeferre said, blocking his path. "I know that it has something to do with Courfeyrac. I just don't know what."

"What would give you that idea?" Enjolras said.

"You've been short with him for weeks now, and you went to Jehan, who won't tell me anything," Combeferre scowled. "Now, come on, out with it."

Enjolras sighed, "Fine. I don't like how much he and Grantaire touch. It's making me jealous, which I know is ridiculous. But, I can't help but think that may be Grantaire would be happier with someone who was… I don't know, freer with his affections." Enjolras waved one hand as if to brush it all away, "Anyway, I've been trying to get over it, but it's hard."

Combeferre looked at him, "You do realize that Grantaire is pretty much obsessed with you. I mean, really obsessed. I don't think he could shut up about you long enough to find anyone to cheat with. Anyway, Courfeyrac is your friend, and he's dating Jehan. He would never do anything with Grantaire."

Enjolras groaned, "I know. That's why I know I'm being ridiculous."

"Have you talked to Grantaire about any of this?" Combeferre asked. Enjolras' silence spoke volumes. "Listen, Enjolras, you should really talk to him about this… maybe he can tone it down a bit if you ask him to."

Enjolras said, "I can't do that."

Combeferre simply replied, "Try."

xXx

After the meeting was over, Grantaire and Enjolras walked back to their apartment building. All of the Amis lived within a few blocks of each other. Grantaire lived with Courfeyrac and Enjolras lived with Combeferre on the floor above them.

They were just outside the building when Enjolras felt Grantaire's hand brush his, and he took it in his; perhaps he could still give him enough affection that Grantaire would stop going to Courfeyrac.

Grantaire looked at him in surprise, but then his gaze softened and he smiled. They walked into the apartment building, and were in the elevator when Grantaire gave Enjolras' hand a squeeze.

"Do you want to come over?" Enjolras asked. "We can watch a movie or something?"

Grantaire nodded and replied, "Sure."

They walked out of the elevator. Enjolras fished his key out of his pocket, as they walked to his apartment door. He slipped the key into the lock, and led Grantaire inside. They were home alone; Combeferre had a project for school to work on with Joly, and he had gone over there to work on it. Enjolras knew that Combeferre's motives were not quite as simple as that, however. Combeferre was obviously trying to give him room to talk about his "feelings" with Grantaire without the pressure of having another person there. Enjolras had known that since Combeferre had raised an eyebrow at him as he had said his good-byes. (At the same time, Grantaire and Courfeyrac had been hugging in farewell; perhaps Combeferre had seen his irritation once more.) The look on Combeferre's face had said a simple, "Talk to him."

Like it was just that simple.

They took off their jackets, hanging them up in the coat closet. When they were finished, Enjolras said, "You pick out the movie. I'll go get some popcorn."

Grantaire nodded, and pulled in Enjolras in for a warm kiss. Enjolras wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his hands on Grantaire's hips possessively. Grantaire flung his arms around Enjolras' neck. When they broke apart, Enjolras said, "What was that for?"

"Nothing really," Grantaire said. "Can't I kiss the man I love?" he quoted Enjolras' words back to him from the night previous.

Enjolras smiled softly, a light blush adorning his features, "I guess so." He gave him a quick peck on the lips before Grantaire went to go pick out the movie.

Minutes later, Enjolras came back into the room, with the bowl of popcorn. "Have you decided yet?" Enjolras said.

"No," Grantaire replied. "I'm still deciding. I always forget how large a movie collection Combeferre has."

"You didn't have to carry in the boxes," Enjolras sighed, remembering his aching arms on the hot summer day that they moved in to their apartment.

One of Combeferre's many hobbies was watching films. Even Enjolras, who was often there when Combeferre received a new one, hadn't seen them all; that was saying something, as Enjolras lived with Combeferre and had been best friends with him since Middle School. Combeferre was Enjolras' oldest friend, and, quite honestly, it was hard to imagine one without the other.

Enjolras was tempered by Combeferre in a way no one else could manage. Combeferre would follow Enjolras to the end of the Earth. This was not conjecture; it was fact.

Although it was never said, everyone knew that if anything happened to the other it would be hard for either to really operate.

There was a brief, peaceful pause. Then, Grantaire said, "So… what were you talking to Combeferre about earlier?"

Enjolras paused for a moment, taken a bit aback. Regaining his senses, he responded, "… nothing important, Grantaire."

Grantaire nodded at him, a skeptical look in his eye. Enjolras grabbed a movie from the shelf at random, desperate for a diversion, "This good?"

Grantaire said, "Yeah, sure." He seemed distracted.

Enjolras glanced down at the DVD case, and saw that it was St. Elmo's Fire. He figured that he could have done worse. He took out the DVD and slid it into the DVD player. Once he saw that it was reading the disc, he went back to the couch to sit next to Grantaire. He took the remote, and decided to focus on the previews, as dull as they were.

They had finally reached the DVD menu when Grantaire said, "The thing is that it didn't seem like nothing, Enjolras."

"I assure you Grantaire, it's fine. You really have no need to worry."

At least I hope not,a small part of Enjolras thought. He really hoped that Grantaire would let it go.

Enjolras was not so lucky.

"If it's nothing, then certainly you can talk to me about it then?" Grantaire said, turning fully towards Enjolras on the couch. His jaw was tensed, and he had a determined gleam in his eye. Enjolras groaned internally. Grantaire, once he got like this, was impossible to distract. He was like a dog with a bone, really.

Enjolras mirrored him, turning to Grantaire. "If it's nothing serious, why do you need to know Grantaire? I've talked it over with Combeferre, so it'll be fine."

You should really talk to him about this,Enjolras heard the echo of Combeferre's voice in his head. Perhaps he was right…

Enjolras opened his mouth to speak, but Grantaire cut in.

"Ah, yes, Combeferre.Well, certainly everythingwill be okay now that you've talked to him,"Grantaire scowled.

Enjolras was distracted from what he was about to say by Grantaire's caustic tone. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his mouth settling into a frown.

"Well, you would never talk to meabout anything… maybe you and Combeferre should just get together."

"What?" Enjolras barked out a laugh that had no humor in it. "Do you think I want to be with Combeferre?"

"I'm just saying that you like to go off and have conversationswith him a lot. Alone," Grantaire said. "It could make a guy wonder."

Enjolras felt a fire build up within him. He burned with it. He rose from the couch, fists clenched. He turned back to Grantaire, chest heaving. "Fine! Do you want to know what we were talking about?" He burst out angrily. He paused for a moment.

"I wait with bated breath," Grantaire said, smirking.

"You!" The word shot out, and rang in the room.

Grantaire's eyes widened, and he was silent for a moment. However, he recovered quickly. "Me? What about me?" Grantaire snarked back.

"He noticed that it bothered me how you hang all over Courfeyrac all the time. You say that the way I talk with Combeferre 'makes a guy wonder'? Well, what do you think the way you two touch each other makes me wonder, huh?"

The two men faced each other in silence. Grantaire rose and said, "I need to go."

Enjolras paled. What have I done? he thought. "Wait, Grantaire-!" Enjolras said, catching his arm as Grantaire brushed past him. "We need to talk this through."

"I just don't know if this can work, Enjolras, not if we don't trust each other," Grantaire said. "At any rate, I think we should go our separate ways and cool down, at least for tonight."

"But-!"

"Let me go, Enjolras. Let me go," Grantaire demanded. Enjolras obeyed him. Grantaire went out the front door, shutting it with a loud click.

Enjolras retreated back into his room, shutting the door behind him. He leaned up against his shut door, before sliding down onto the floor in front of it. He brought his knees up to his chest. "Fuck," he said, resting his head on his kneecaps.

xXx

Enjolras heard his phone go off several times that night, but he felt no need to go look at it. He didn't remember moving from his less comfy spot on the floor onto his bed. He knew he must look like quite a sight. He was wrapped tightly in his comforter, only a few locks of golden hair peeking out. He knew that his eyes were red and swollen from crying. He had never changed out of his clothes from the night before.

However, that hardly mattered to him now. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous his jealousy seemed. Grantaire and Courfeyrac? Really? If they were just like him and Combeferre, then the very idea must seem disgusting to them.

He fell asleep without even noticing it.

When Enjolras woke up, he didn't know what time it was, but he knew that it was the next morning by the way the daylight seeped in through his curtains and his comforter.

It was at that moment that he heard a loud banging on his bedroom door. It had to be Combeferre; he was probably worried about him. "Combeferre," he groaned. "Go away."

In response, the door slammed open with a loud bang against the wall. Enjolras shot up in bed. Standing in the doorway stood a very angry Courfeyrac. His brown curls were mussed and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked the picture of a man who had been up all night.

"Courfeyrac, I-!" Enjolras started, but he was interrupted.

"What the actual fuck,Enjolras?" Courfeyrac shouted, stalking over to him and standing over his huddled form. Courfeyrac rarely grew angry, but when he did, his fits of rage were legendary, especially if they went unchecked.

"Listen, Courfeyrac, I-," Enjolras began.

"Nope, Enjolras, I'm talking right now. I can't believe you would ever think that Grantaire would cheat on you, or that I would do that to you! I thought we were friends. I would think that you should have more faith in Grantaire too! I mean, he's obviously obsessed with you, has been since the moment he saw you!" Courfeyrac ranted, throwing a hand through his hair.

"Courfeyrac, I know, okay?" Enjolras interrupted. "I fucked up."

"You think?" Courfeyrac scowled.

"I know," Enjolras said. "I just let myself get carried away. I was freaked out and jealous of how easy it was for you to touch each other, and I didn't know why he couldn't come to me for any affection."

Courfeyrac sat on the bed next to Enjolras. "Sometimes you and Grantaire are wayto similar, you know that?" He sighed, "Did you ever think that maybe,just maybe, he was just more used to me? You guys just started dating a few months ago; Grantaire and I have been friends for years. Years,Enjolras."

"I realize that now, Courfeyrac," Enjolras said.

"I tried to explain to him that that was why it was easier for you to go to Combeferre if you needed to talk through something, but he wouldn't listen," Courfeyrac said. "You two certainly know how to tie yourselves into knots, don't you?"

Enjolras looked down at his covered knees and nodded. "Now, up with you, we're going to go see Grantaire. Combeferre ought to be done with him by the time we get there." Seeing Enjolras' wide eyes, Courfeyrac continued, "We figured that a divide and conquer strategy would work best for you two. Don't worry. I don't think Combeferre will be too hard on him." They rose, and went out into the hallway.

Enjolras bent to slip on his sneakers. When he rose from his task, Courfeyrac said, "He thinks you two are going to break up, and he blames himself for it."

Enjolras frowned, "We're not, and this is hardly his fault."

"Well, I know that, and you know that, but hecertainly doesn't," Courfeyrac said. "Make that clear for him, why don't you?" Courfeyrac came in close to Enjolras and growled, "If you hurt him again, there'll be hell to pay. Do you understand me?"

Enjolras nodded, and they went downstairs to Grantaire and Courfeyrac's apartment. As they entered, Combeferre exited Grantaire's bedroom. He raised an eyebrow at the new arrivals and said, "Courfeyrac, let's go get breakfast. These two have a lot to talk about." He then looked at Enjolras directly in the eye. "Talk to him, and do a better job this time."

Enjolras nodded solemnly, and entered Grantaire's bedroom.

xXx

Enjolras rarely came into Grantaire's room. They usually went over to his apartment.

Grantaire wasn't a mess, per se, but his room was far from neat. Canvases, sketch pads, clothes, and art supplies were strewn everywhere in a sort of disarray that only Grantaire could find anything in. The window was open, letting out the heavy paint fumes that still lingered within the room. Enjolras' eyes were drawn to an easel by the window. Painted on the canvas was a blond man's profile painted against a red background. It took a moment, but Enjolras slowly realized that it was him. It was a good likeness, but Enjolras hadn't been able to recognize himself for a moment. He knew nothing about art, but he was struck by how his portrait almost seemed to glow from the inside.

"Is this really how he sees me?" Enjolras murmured, awed. Enjolras moved to examine the painting more closely, when he stepped on a pencil. It rolled under his foot, and Enjolras fell back. He landed on the floor with a loud thud.

Grantaire shot up in bed, his covers still wrapped around him. "What?" he said. "Enjolras?"

Enjolras flushed, embarrassed. "Present," he said, looking up at Grantaire.

There was a long silence. Grantaire stared at Enjolras with wide eyes for a moment, before they narrowed suspiciously. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Grantaire looked like he hadn't slept all night. His eyes were red from crying, and his face was blotchy. "I don't want to talk to you."

"You don't have to say anything," Enjolras blurted out, rising and sitting on the bed. He paused, "I-I want to apologize to you."

Grantaire chuckled bitterly, "You? Apologize? Sounds like a sign of the Apocalypse to me."

"Well, then I guess the world is ending, because I am now," Enjolras said. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I should never have said those things to you, not like that. I should have trusted you more… I know you and Courfeyrac would never do anything like that. I just – well, I let my jealousy get the best of me."

"I-," Grantaire began.

"I was so scared that I might lose you that I acted like an idiot. I promise that I'll come to you more when I have problems, and I won't always go to Combeferre instead of you, okay? Just… please, please don't leave me. I love you and you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. So, don't okay?"

Enjolras looked at Grantaire; he stared back. A moment passed, and Grantaire said, "I'm sorry too. I, well, I did the same thing that you did. I'll pull back from Courfeyrac." He paused, "I love you too, you know?"

Enjolras nodded, "Okay."

Grantaire leant in and gave Enjolras a kiss. Enjolras let out a sigh of relief. He and Grantaire may have the worst communication skills ever, but they loved each other. Sometimes, that was more than enough.

Bonus Scene

Meanwhile, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Jehan sat around a table in the Café Musain. Jehan and Courfeyrac were holding hands under the table, as Combeferre took a sip of his coffee.

"… so, I went to talk to Enjolras and Combeferre went to talk to Grantaire. So, really, we saved their relationship," Courfeyrac explained to Jehan.

Combeferre swallowed, and placed his cup on the table. "I actually didn't go in and talk to Grantaire," he said.

"What?" Courfeyrac said. "You idiot! They might not have made up then."

Combeferre shrugged, "Grantaire usually falls all over himself to apologize to Enjolras. Even if he's being stubborn, all Enjolras has to do is apologize to him, and Grantaire will probably do so as well."

"I'm not sure what that says about R," Courfeyrac sighed. "But I guess you're right." He paused for a moment, then brightened, "Wait… that means I did it all by myself!" He grinned triumphantly.

Combeferre took another sip, hiding his grin. He probably shouldn't tell Courfeyrac that he knew that Enjolras and Grantaire had really fixed themselves. Somehow, it seemed mean.