Miserable Rouge! - A Les Mis AU

Your Song

Courferyac was dragging Combeferre by the wrist, followed by everyone else. "He literally is just getting into the Room," he said repeatedly, "I can't believe how well that whole thing worked."

"So you're telling me that Grantaire just invited him in there?" Bossuet asked, "Just like that?"

"Does Enjolras even know how that whole thing works? Because he gives me the impression that he doesn't," Joly said nervously, fidgeting with his hat.

Musichetta had brought Enjolras up to the Room, where he was now waiting awkwardly. He had his poems in his hand, twisting them around his hand. He had no idea how this whole thing was supposed to go.

Finally, Grantaire came in, wearing the... pajamas from earlier. "This place, I think, is perfect. How do you like it? 'Poetic' enough?" He twirled to let Enjolras see the full effect.

Enjolras was looking around the room though, not even seeing the outfit. "Yes, actually, it's perfect for poetry."

Grantaire cocked an eyebrow at him, then resumed the act, walking over to the small table, which had quite a quantity of food on it. "Would you like some supper? A little champagne?" As he said this, he poured two generous glasses, sipping his quickly.

Enjolras finally looked at him and jumped as if Grantaire had just turned into a melon right before his eyes. "No thank you, I don't drink. I prefer to just get this over and done with."

Grantaire almost dropped both glasses on the floor. "Oh." He tried not to sound offended as he continued, "Very well. Then why don't you come down here? To get it over and done with?" He laid down on the bed on his stomach, patting the seat next to him.

"No thank you, I prefer to do it standing," Enjolras explained.

Grantaire tried to not look surprised as he started to get up. I can figure this out, he thought.

Enjolras hurried over to him, flustered, almost pushing Grantaire back onto the bed. "You don't have to get up. I mean, it's quite long, and I would of course want you to be comfortable." Seeing Grantaire's eyes widen, he tried to explain, "It's a quite modern thing I do, but if you want, you might enjoy it."

Courfeyrac and the others were sitting next to the windows outside, trying aggressively not to laugh. "Looks like he doesn't know how it works," he giggled, and Combeferre had to kiss him to shut him up.

Grantaire was trying to wrap his mind around the situation. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now. This very handsome man who was now smiling awkwardly, in such a way that was positively adorable, was asking him to... "I'm sure I will," he decided.

Enjolras began pacing across the room, taking deep breaths. Grantaire was waiting patiently, lying down on the bed, trying to look as appealing as possible. The other performers were hysterical.

"Excuse me a moment," Enjolras said, continuing to pace around. He had to come up with some nice poetic thing to say. "The sky... is... with the bluebirds? Come on," he was racking his mind for something, anything, but it was hard to focus when Grantaire looked like he was having a seizure.

On the contrary, Grantaire was getting impatient. He sat up and moved over to the side of the bed where Enjolras was standing, making a fairly impressive raspberry sound. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm just nervous," Enjolras explained, shaking out his arms, "It just takes a while to--"

"Oh, I get it, take your time," Grantaire replied quickly, not needing the whole explanation. There was some strange choking-laughing sounds coming from outside, but it was around flu season, so he didn't call any attention to it. "Need any help?"