Title: The Chemicals Keeping Us Together
Author: AoiTsukikage
Rating: T for now, but will probably increase
Characters/Pairing: Enjolras/Marius primarily, other secondary pairings
Chapters: 20/?
Word Count: 2420
Summary:Modern!Amis!AU. Both of them are willing to write it off as just a drunken mistake at a party, but with friends like theirs nothing is ever quite that simple to let go of. And maybe, for once, that will turn out to be a good thing.
Chapter Twenty
It's probably a good thing that he's used to reacting fast and being on constant alert, because even over the din in the club he can hear the explosion and he turns to see flames shooting out of the kitchen doors.
"Oh, my God," Jehan whispers in his ear, fingers clenched around his shoulders, and Feuilly feels how rigid the other man is and knows he needs to get him out of there. There are so many bodies packed in the room that getting out at all is going to be a struggle but his mind is just set on finding all of their group and getting them out, and then doing whatever else he can to help.
"Go. Go, Jehan," he urges, pushing him toward the exit, and Jehan looks scared for a moment before hugging him close.
"Don't do anything stupid," he whispers and Feuilly shakes his head, patting the other man on the back. "I won't. Just get out safe and take anybody you can find with you. I'll be fine," he promises, ducking away from the poet and keeping low as he makes his way toward the kitchens. Luckily everybody seems to be heading for the exit and he yelps a little when somebody catches him about the waist.
"We can't get back there," Bahorel yells over the din and shrieking in the Club. "I tried, the fire's too big in the kitchen. We'll just have to hope everybody got out the back way and get out the front ourselves."
Feuilly nods because he can see now that there's no making it through the kitchen doors, and he straightens up and pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Did anybody call 911 yet?"
"I'm sure they did," the older man replies, tugging on Feuilly's hand and moving him toward the exit. It's amazing, he thinks absently, how a room full of drunk and high people wearing costumes and masks and all manner of crazy things can suddenly sober up and run in a straight line when they're in danger. The large room is almost empty by the time they reach the door, although it's hard to see because of the smoke, and they slip out into the cool night sky as Feuilly raises his hand to his face and winces at the caked-on make-up that peels off.
Of course half of them have to be dressed as zombies or the undead or whatever the theme of the night was, but having all that fake blood and gore around is only going to make the paramedics' jobs hell looking for people that actually might be injured.
"Here," Bahorel pulls him off to the side and they can hear sirens wailing in the distance. "Just…text everybody and we'll try to meet up with them all here. They're fine," he adds and Feuilly knows they are, but he'll still feel better once he's actually seen everybody.
He's fumbling for his phone and starting to send off texts when he hears footsteps heading toward them and raises his head.
"Please tell me that's makeup," Joly looks frazzled as he rushes over, pointing at Feuilly who raises a hand to the side of his face and nods. He half-wishes he had a way to wash off all of the crap on his face because he doesn't want people asking him that all night and Joly apparently can read his mind because he's shoving a bad full of makeup removal cloths at him. "They're 'Chetta's. Obviously. But I mean, I thought a few of us might need them tonight," he pauses then and crosses his arms. "You haven't seen…"
"We'd tell you if we had," Bahorel promises as Feuilly keeps scrubbing at his face, frowning at the mess of brown-and-red that's staining the cloths. "You look mostly human again, by the way."
"Good," Feuilly decides that it's probably good enough for now and goes back to texting, trying not to worry when he's not getting any responses.
"I'm going to leave you two here and see if I can do anything to help," Joly says after a few moments of just listening to the sirens getting louder still. "Just, um…"
"We'll let you know if we see them," Feuilly assures him and Joly nods, waving as he heads back toward the club. He's barely got the texts sent out and his phone slipped back into his pocket before he gets hit by a mass of lanky limbs and he hugs back instinctively. "Jehan, it's been about ten minutes…"
"The last I saw of you, you were heading toward the fire so please excuse me for being relieved," the other man pulls back and his eyes are maybe too-bright in the dim light outside but Feuilly knows if he honestly took the time to sort out his emotions instead of trying to tamp down his worry he probably wouldn't be any better off.
"You boys do realize that 'outside, kind of around the corner of the building' aren't very helpful instructions, right?" a voice calls and Feuilly turns to look.
"Well, it's not like we've got a street address here," Bahorel yells back, grinning as Grantaire, Musichetta and Bossuet make their way over, the latter being held up by the other two. "You okay, there?"
"He, of course, had to trip on a bottle that was on the ground and rolled his ankle," Musichetta looks like she'd expected this to happen and Bossuet looks properly chagrined. "It's freezing out here," she rubs her arms and Grantaire shrugs his jacket off and holds it out. She takes it with a smile and puts it on, sighing at the warmth. "Well, at least one of you is a proper gentleman. Have you seen…"
"He's fine, he went to help the paramedics," Bahorel answers and it's honestly hard for Feuilly to tell if it's her or Bossuet that looks more relieved at the news. "So we're just waiting on…"
Feuilly compulsively checks his phone again, still telling himself not to worry.
"He's fine," Jehan says quietly and Feuilly nods.
"I know. I know he is, I'm not worried about him. Marius was with him last I saw and he's hardly the reckless type, but I'm not going to feel comfortable until I see him," he replies. That part's not a lie, but he's still not entirely sure if he's trying to suppress his feelings for the other man because part of him knows that it's not something that's going to last. Courfeyrac's not the type to settle down with one person, not really, and Feuilly's not so lost in romantic fantasies that he somehow believes he'll be the one to break him of his old habits.
Life, as he's been reminded far too often, fucking sucks, and maybe he's just not meant to have good things for very long.
There's a huge explosion behind them then, strong enough that the ground shakes, and Jehan clutches his arm as Feuilly stares at the flames shooting from the top of the building in horror. "Shit," Bahorel whispers at his side. "Fuck, if anybody's still in there…"
Feuilly's got his phone out again and growls in frustration, suppressing the urge to fling it to the ground because the fact that he's not getting an answer is not helping right now.
"Oh, my God…" Musichetta's holding onto Bossuet's arm far too tightly and the crack that slices through the night air makes them all flinch, a part of the roof caving in on itself as the flames lick higher.
"There's no way anybody can go back in now," Grantaire has an arm wrapped around his middle, his free hand still holding a bottle of beer because of course he'd even carry it through a fire, but he looks almost startlingly sober and haunted.
And Feuilly wants to go back, because if anybody can find a way he can, although his sense of self-preservation is too great to even take a step in the direction of the club. He needs to know. He doesn't care what the answer is, he needs to know.
"Quite the light show, isn't it?"
He nearly falls over at the voice behind them, schooling his face into a neutral expression because he's not that happy, but Courfeyrac's grinning and his face is streaked with soot and Marius looks exhausted but they're alive and he's not sure he's ever been so grateful.
"You fucking bastard, we thought you were dead!" Bahorel grins at them and Courfeyrac shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets and sniffing loudly.
"We're fine. Mostly. We were in the bathroom when the alarm went off and by the time we got out the back hall was full of smoke so we snuck out the emergency exit. It's not an experience I'd like to ever repeat, though," he rolls his eyes and Marius looks up and clears his throat, his eyes darting around.
"Are we all fine?"
"Yeah. Joly's doing his doctor-y thing somewhere but other than that…" Bahorel gestures and the other man nods.
"Good. Although I'm guessing somebody probably went and texted Enjolras and I'd better let him know I'm okay because otherwise he's going to do something stupid and hurt himself again," he pulls out his phone and sets about doing that while Courfeyrac wanders over to Feuilly, stopping a couple of feet away and shrugging.
"Were you worried?"
"Not particularly," he lies, and he knows that Courfeyrac knows he's lying from the way his eyes flash. "Okay, of course I was, but this isn't…we're not…"
"Come here already," Courfeyrac pulls him in and Feuilly clutches at the back of his coat. He smells like smoke and it's hardly a comfort but just physically touching him is enough right now. "Look, I know that we've…got a weird thing going on and for some reason we don't really show it in front of anybody else but…ah, to hell with it," he slides one hand behind Feuilly's neck into his hair and yanks him closer and Feuilly's not sure exactly how they end up kissing but they do.
And it's heated and frantic and way, way more than he's ever felt assured enough to do in public before but they don't break apart until Bossuet wolf-whistles rather obnoxiously, and even then Courfeyrac won't let him move too far away.
"About time," Musichetta's smiling at them both and Courfeyrac opens his mouth to no doubt reply when Joly comes rushing back, Combeferre and Enjolras tailing him (although Enjolras is definitely moving a little slower than normal, but that's to be expected).
"They told us they had it under control," Joly rubs at his eyes with his sleeve and yawns. "And I'm exhausted so I say we all head to…somebody's place, since I don't think any of us want to be alone tonight."
"No," Marius says quietly before Enjolras embraces him and it's about the most emotion any of them have seen from the blond but it's probably warranted, and Marius is whispering something in his ear that's too low to catch but when Enjolras pulls away he stands up a little taller. "Are we…"
"We can go to mine. I think I've probably got the most space. And three beds if we pull the couch out," Jehan suggests, and nobody protests as they make their way to where the cars are still parked.
000
"There are no known fatalities and all injuries reported were minor. The cause of the fire is still unknown but firefighters remain on the scene taking care of any remaining hotspots. A damage estimate will be released in the morning, but it's likely the building will have to be torn down as a large portion of the roof has collapsed. We'll bring you updates on this story as it continues to unfold."
Marius tunes out the television at that point and snuggles back into his Enjolras' arms, eyes half-lidded and his body finally relaxing after the stress of the night. He hadn't exactly feared for his life at any point, although coming out of the washroom into a hallway so full of smoke they could barely see or breathe wasn't fun. Enjolras hasn't stopped touching him as if he's afraid Marius will disappear if he does, and Marius is actually kind of grateful for the attention and the obvious indications that Enjolras really does care for him on a fairly deep level.
Even if it's not love it's still something special. And he's just exhausted and worn-out enough that he doesn't care anymore what answer he gets, if he gets one at all.
"I'm okay," he says first, and Enjolras nods and buries his face against the younger man's neck. "I am. I didn't mean to worry you…"
"Now I know how you felt when I got hurt," Enjolras replies. "It's…you know what I'm like, I like to be in control and having something like that happen where there's nothing I can do is terrifying."
"I know," Marius promises, because of course he does, and he strokes his fingers through the other man's hair and lets his eyes slide closed because he's warm and safe and…if he dares to think it…loved and that's such an incredible feeling.
"And I'm the one that told you to go there tonight in the first place, so if anything had happened to you…"
"But it didn't. And in the end it was my choice, you didn't force me to go," he has to point out although Enjolras merely shrugs at that and doesn't respond. "I never thought I'd have to tell you to stop worrying, but stop worrying. Everything's okay," he says as confidently as he can although his words are starting to slur with exhaustion and he can tell by the slump of Enjolras' shoulders that he's feeling the same way.
He doesn't particularly want to move from the armchair, because he's comfortable, and he reaches over to grab one of the blankets that Jehan's brought into the living room before spreading it over them and nestling down farther.
"Try to sleep, okay?" he asks, knowing Enjolras probably won't otherwise, and his boyfriend's response is to kiss his forehead and hold him tightly, and Marius hums and blames his next words on his almost-asleep state because he still doesn't think he'd be brave enough to say them otherwise. "I love you."
He falls asleep just after the last word has left his mouth so he doesn't hear if Enjolras says anything in response.
Notes:
1.…nobody thought anything that bad was going to happen, did they? Thanks for the continued reviews and everything :)