Whatever Grantaire was expecting when he finished his art assignment early and dragged himself to Courfeyrac's house for a supposed "Mandatory get-together", this was certainly not it. It was all going fine, with happy banter, despite several of them insisting the others be quiet to watch whatever shitty action film was currently flashing on the television screen above them. It was perfectly fine until someone got the alcohol out.
Now, Grantaire had the strong urge to kick in the teeth of whoever thought this would be a good idea, but he had to admit, it was quite entertaining. Most of the group had enough sense to leave, or get their friends – or significant others – home before it was too late, however, not everyone had the sense, foresight, or sober person to drag them home.
Enjolras was mumbling what seemed to be a very passionate monologue that would leave an audience entranced – if he wasn't lying in Combeferre's lap, arms flapping lazily as if attempting to emphasize his argument. Combeferre's, to his credit, was nodding along, but the slightly concerned look in his eyes told the room everything they needed to know.
Jehan was sitting by a window, their reflection staring right back at them against the night sky. He was quietly humming something indistinguishable, bopping his head to the tune. Courfeyrac was sat at Combeferre's feet, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face by one of Enjolras's flailing limbs.
"Enjolras," Combeferre started, hesitating slightly, before changing his voice to as if he was trying to explain something to a small child, "This is a... Fascinating point you're making, but, you should probably find somewhere to sleep?" Enjolras's eyebrows furrowed, he sat up abruptly.
"What? No." He said, voice much clearer than it was mere moments before. "No. You're just saying that because you're trying to oppress my ideas." He stood up, slightly shakily, "I won't let you do that."
"Enjolras-" Combeferre started, but was cut off.
"Feuilly wouldn't do this to me." Enjolras seemed to stop, looking around for a moment, "Where is Feuilly?"
"He went home half an hour ago," Grantaire said, repressing a laugh. This drew Enjolras's attention.
"Grantaire wouldn't do this to me." Enjolras pouted, pointedly looking at Combeferre, who threw his hands up in mock surrender, "He at least listens to what I'm saying, even if he doesn't agree."
"What about me Enj?" Courfeyrac said, purposefully drawing out the nickname and placing a hand over his heart in a mock pout, "I care about you. Can't believe you've forgotten me, and after all we've been through." From his sitting position, Courfeyrac collapsed into the ground, with a screech of feigned betrayal.
"You I tolerate." Enjolras replied "You say good stuff. Makes me feel happy, and it makes everyone else feel happy." He scrunched up his face, searching for the words he needed.
"Thanks." Courfeyrac replied sarcastically, but a grin still spread across his face.
"Come on Enjolras," Combeferre sighed, "We need to go home, you're gonna feel like shit if you don't."
"I refuse." Enjolras said. "Nope. Can't make me." His voice was becoming more slurred by the minute, and the look of pure concentration still hadn't left his face. He backed away from where Combeferre was starting to stand from the seat he was in, before realising, thanks to the small apartment they were occupying, the heels of his feet hit the armchair Grantaire was occupying. Losing his balance – and causing his head to spin like a bitch – he fell onto Grantaires seat. "I'm not moving" he said, leaning backwards into Grantaires chest.
"He's not moving" Grantaire echoed, looking up at Combeferre and giving a sickly sweet smile, wrapping an arm around Enjolras's waist and pulling him closer.
"Fine." Combeferre said, his cheeks slightly flushed red for he wasn't completely sober. "Me and Courf are going to bed."
"We are?" Courfeyrac asked.
"We are."
"What about Jehan?" Courfeyrac asked, nodding his head towards the still humming person.
Before Combeferre could even think of a response, Courfeyrac, stood up, ignoring the rush of nausea, and stepped over to Jehan. Grabbing a blanket layed over the back of the chair, he draped it around Jehan's shoulders, causing him to look up. Courfeyrac tucked a piece of stray hair behind their ear, before pushing him back slightly so they were laying down. As soon as Jehan's head hit the couch pillows, their eyes shut, and soon, his breathing slowed, evening out into a slow, steady pace.
Soon, Combeferre and Courfeyrac had disappeared to god-knows-where, presumably finding a place to rest. Grantaire watched the door they had disappeared out of, absentmindedly teasing Enjolras's hair between his fingers.
"I was right, wasn't I?" Enjolras asked. Grantaire hadn't even known he was still awake, his voice was barely above a whisper. "You'll always listen to what I say? Even if you don't agree?"
"Of course" Grantaire whispered back, letting Enjolras nestle his head into his neck, and they lay like that until Enjolras joined Jehan in sleep.