The morning found Grantaire before Grantaire found the morning. He was lying on his back, one arm thrown out of his covers and grazing the carpet tiles.

He rubbed his eyes with it, rolled over and took his phone off charge. He turned down the brightness and texted Courfeyrac.

"What's the story, morning glory?" He asked cheerily a minute later, perched on the side of Grantaire's legs. How's the head?" He had three new

lovebites stretching from just under his ear to dipping underneath his shirt.

"Head's fine, morning glory doesn't have a story to tell. Did you know Valjean was in prison?"

Courfeyrac's hand stopped playing with the cover absently. "Shut up."

"I'm not kidding."

"You're shitting me. Is that why he's so stacked?"

Grantaire shrugged. "Dunno. Possibly. Shouldn't imagine there's much else to do in prison. Shit, I've got to see the dude today and all I'm going to be

thinking of is him in a fucking jumpsuit. What do you think he did?"

Courf blew air out through his teeth. "Oh Jesus, I don't know. You know the guy better than I do. Misdemeanour, probably. Libel or taxes or something."

"I don't think it was libel, they probably wouldn't have let him work here. Mind you, I'm surprised they're doing that at all. Christ, it's such a weird

thought."

"Do you know anything more about it?"

"Nah, just that. It was a while ago apparently. Just kinda wanted to tell someone. Wanted a conversation to start the morning with, you know?"

"Yeah," Courfeyrac balanced is chin on his knee. "Yeah man, I get that."

"Jehan still asleep?"

"Jehan's awake and away. He left about an hour and a half ago for work. I've got labs for days today as well, I don't think I'm going to see him until this

evening."

"Meet him for lunch or something."

Courf shrugged. "Meeting Combeferre, said he wanted to talk about something. You're taking a very vested interest in me and Jehan all of a sudden."

"Yeah, well. Nice to know what's going on in your friend's lives, isn't it? Be connected and all that."

"You need to haul ass out of here if you're going to make your tute for ten, my man."

Grantaire fished around his side for his phone again. "Oh shit, yeah. Jesus, time didn't register. Are you in tonight?"

"Yeah, I'm in. Nothing better to do."

"Cool."

Courfeyrac was quiet, then slapped his legs. "Wear your grey jumper today man, and black trousers. Kettle's boiled in the kitchen if you're interested. See

you soon." He took hold of Grantaire's hand and squeezed it quickly. Grantaire squeezed back.

Combeferre was spread across his small table reading about surgical recall

when Courf came in at last, slamming his back down on the chair and unwrapping his scarf.

"Sorry I'm late, man, labs overran and we weren't allowed out till everyone was at a viable stopping point. Been waiting long?"

"No, you're fine," he said, closing his book and putting it back in his bag. "I ordered tea, by the way, in case you're interested. I just wanted something that

wasn't sandwiches in cling film."

"Ugh, I know man, it's grim. Are you eating?"

"Yeah, but probably not a great deal. Don't let that stop you, though."

"Oh, I don't intend it to." He looked around. The Musain was always what passed for quiet at around lunchtime, mainly due to the fact that most of its

regulars were waking up. He caught the eye of the waitress and managed to think involuntarily of Eponine. That conversation they'd had the other day

had stuck with him. What would he have done?

"So what's on your mind, 'Ferre? Aside from all the usual?"

"Nothing, probably." He took his glasses off before they steamed up over his tea. "You know how we all kind of blow things out of proportion a bit after

last time, but does Enjolras seem okay to you?"

"Is this about the other night?"

"The drinking thing?"

"Yeah."

Combeferre shook his head. "No, nothing about that. I don't think it was related. He's just getting mopey. He came into my room last night and started

asking me all these things about how people see him and what he's like. He's never cared that much before."

"I think he has."

"Not in this way." Combeferre put his mug down. "This is about his person, rather than his persona, I think. I'm just kinda worried about how insecure he

seems to be."

Courfeyrac thought back to his weird conversation with Grantaire that morning. "Yeah, I can imagine. Shit like that is pretty worrying."

"You say you haven't seen anything?"

"Not particularly. Although to tell you the truth, I've not really been paying attention. I'll definitely keep an eye out, though. Is there anything you want

me to look for?"

Combeferre shrugged again. "Nothing out of the ordinary, I don't think. I don't know, I'm probably blowing this up to be bigger than it is. I'm just racking

my brains trying to think of a catalyst."

"You don't think it's Eponine, do you?"

"I don't think it's Eponine. Although, shit," he broke off and rubbed a hand over his face. "Jesus, poor Eponine. Her face looked a fucking mess."

"She looks better, now."

"Still kind of fucking terrifying though, isn't it? I have no idea what she can do in the long run. But yeah, that can be next on the agenda. He was acting

kind of weird before."

"Sometimes he generally does just get weird though."

"Yeah, true. I've never met anyone moodier. I think it might have something to do with Grantaire."

Courfeyrac's interest piqued. He looked back at Combeferre from the sandwich he'd been coveting and clasped his hands on the table. "Yeah? Why?"

"Because I'm a dick who reads far further into things than I should. I don't know, I just think it's weird that he targeted him that time and lashed out at

him for no reason. He feels so bad for it now, but it was so random, like. Grantaire wasn't even there."

Courfeyrac screwed his mouth to one side and nodded in vague assent. His mind was on Grantaire's quiet confession from the other night, how he hadn't

looked at him when he'd said it.

It's not guys, it's just this one guy….

You can probably guess who it is though.

"Enjolras can get quite proud."

"Yeah, but he never gets unreasonable. Well, not totally up in the air unreasonable, anyway."

"Shall we do some detective work?"

Combeferre's soup arrived alongside Courfeyrac's panini and they both looked at each other, half grinning.

"I think detective work might be an idea."