Archive of Our Own

Grantaire’s first night at the club had been a smashing success, if by smashing success one meant literally smashed. He managed to drop a bottle of liquor (thankfully mostly empty) and a few shot glasses. Eponine had watched as her friend seemingly did his best to do his worst, regretting ever recommending him for the job (and not only because he had made fun of her uniform, or lack thereof). Luckily he got in to a groove (after Eponine yelled at him to “get his shit together” to which he responded that it would be easier if could have a drink, and she had all but shoved a shot of vodka into his hands) and Eponine started to calm down about her decision to help Grantaire out.

Until Combeferre walked in.

Eponine glanced over to where Grantaire was mixing drinks for a group of girls before she hastily made her way towards Combeferre. He waved his hand, which she immediately grabbed, pulling him towards the coat check room. The Coat Check Girl gave her a surprised look, but Eponine snapped, “Get out,” and she ran off like a scared rabbit.

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought I was picking you up,” Combeferre responded, obviously confused. “Because your car was doing that smoking thing again.”

“Yes, but remember what else I said? Don’t come in.”

“But I thought I’d surprise you.”

“I said text me and I’ll come out.”

“The parking lot is dark and the people here are drunk, so I thought I should walk you to my car.”

“And when you brought that up earlier I told you that it was sweet, but you didn’t have to bother.”

“Is it because you thought I would get distracted?” He asked, running a finger over her exposed midriff, making her shiver. “I know you said you never wanted to while at work.”

She swatted his hand away, trying to put on her best scowl. “No. I mean yes, I did say that, but that’s not why I’m mad. Since you didn’t listen to a word I said earlier, you probably don’t remember that tonight is Grantaire’s first night on the job.”

“Oh,” Combeferre responded, finally understanding why she might feel angry. “And we agreed we were going to keep this quiet.”

“It’s bad enough that Courfeyrac knows,” she said, fishing her phone from her back pocket. She clicked a few buttons before showing the screen to Combeferre. “Do you know what this is?”

Combeferre squinted at the screen, taking the phone from her to get a better look. “It, um, it looks like a butt.”

“That’s your butt,” Eponine responded. “I’ve been getting at least one picture a day since the hospital.”

Combeferre continued to stare at the screen as he flipped through the many photos. “Some days I don’t even see him. How does he do it?”

“You’re missing the point.”

“You mean the fact that you don’t delete them?”

“No,” she huffed, snatching the phone out of his hand. “The point is that our friends are hooligans.”

“Why are we friends with them, then?” He asked, moving his thumb in a circle on her hip.

“I don’t know,” Eponine sighed. “But we have to be discreet. Especially in front Grantaire. He doesn’t know how to lie. There’s a reason why you all were taking bets on when they would get together.”

Combeferre leaned down and kissed her neck. “Maybe we should get someone to put a bet in for us. I think we could sweep it,” he whispered.

Eponine shivered, and put her hands against his chest in response. “I don’t think you can make bets when you are one of the subjects.” His hands started dancing up her back in a way that was extremely distracting. “Combeferre, I thought I made myself—oh—clear.”

“Apparently you made nothing clear to me.”

His hands were all over her in a flash and her lips were crashing into his. She wondered why she ever insisted on putting never at my work on their list.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock at the door, followed by, “Ep, are you okay?”

“Shit,” Combeferre muttered against her neck (making this the fourth time she had ever heard him swear).

“Hide,” Eponine hissed, pointing towards a stack of boxes and lending Combeferre a hand as he awkwardly kneeled behind them. Eponine smiled at him before putting another box on top of the stack to better conceal him.

“Ep, what’s going on?”

“Jesus, Grantaire, I duck back here to check my phone for five seconds,” Eponine responded as she jerked the door open, trying to give off an air of nonchalance.

Grantaire gave her a look as he peaked inside the room. “The Coat Check Girl said you dragged a guy in here.”

“And you trust the Coat Check Girl?”

“No, not really. Seems a little ditzy. Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I’ll just grab the bus, but thanks.” She gestured over toward the bar where a crowd was starting to form. “Better get back to it.”

He saluted her before going back to his station. Eponine waited until Grantaire was busy behind the bar before removing the boxes so Combeferre could clamber out. She laced her hand with his as she pulled him toward the exit.

He placed his hand on the small of her back as soon as they were outside. “I never would have imagined sneaking around could be so fun.”

“You are secretly a freak.”

“But a lady in the streets.”

Eponine shut him up with a kiss.

Inside Grantaire is worried about Eponine. He hated the idea of his friend having to take the bus this late. He shot a quick text to Enjolras to let him know he would need a ride home so Eponine could borrow his car and not get attacked by a hobo. He felt his leg vibrate a few seconds later and checked his phone.

Grantaire smiled at his phone and ran outside, hoping that he can catch Eponine before she got on the bus. He stopped dead in his tracks, thinking that maybe he should start reconsidering the amount that he drinks on a daily basis because it must be affecting his eyesight. That had to be it, because he is fairly certain that Eponine is making out with someone. If he squinted hard enough, is that Combeferre? No, it couldn’t be Combeferre, because Combeferre doesn’t make out in parking lots with Eponine. Grantaire toke a step back into the club, getting his phone out to let Enjolras know that he wouldn’t need a ride after all.