Drinking Party At 'Ferre's

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

Who: Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Bossuet - the Amis not lost in Africa (Joly, Jehan, you wanna come play too? -- no idea about Marius/Feuilly?)
Where: Combeferre's apartment.
Notes: Amis converge on 'Ferre's apartment for a night of drinking before they get serious about going after Enjolras and Grantaire who are currently, to their best knowledge, marooned somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Africa and very possibly in danger.

Status: ONGOING!

--


Combeferre had a little time before his friends came over, and decided to fill up the fridge a bit. He had been emptying it, part because he didn't want to leave anything perishable for when he was out of the country, and part from a lack of desire to trudge through the grocery store.

He picked up snacks and another six pack at the store, trusting that Bahorel and Courfeyrac at least would bulk up the booze supply, then, on the way back, stopped at the bookstore for some crash courses in Swahili. Maybe it wouldn't help, but it couldn't hurt -- better a chance of the locals speaking that than English or French, anyway.

Combeferre couldn't help worrying. Eight days now, with no word from Enjolras or Grantaire. He was still utterly and completely certain that Enjolras couldn't be dead, and he was less certain that Grantaire was stubbornly stuck to his side -- like, Courfeyrac had said, a barnacle. It was an apt description, anyway. He didn't expect, not really, that he and the others could just fly into Nigeria and take a powerboat down the river and find Enjolras and Grantaire huddled alone in a makeshift hut, ready and waiting to be rescued. No. If he knew Enjolras at all, his friends certainly weren't going to be waiting at the crash site--wherever it might be. He knew they'd have to find the crashed remains of the plane and ascertain a trail before they had any hope of finding Enjolras. And God knows how long that could take. Still, he wasn't despondent and he would hold out hope.

But what he shouldn't be doing, and he knew it, was worry himself to death. So he ruthlessly cleaned out the rest of the things in the living room. He piled the unsorted boxes in Enjolras' bedroom -- he considered it small payment for the worry and fuss his friend had been putting him through -- and tossed out all the old takeout remains from the past week. He figured it was clean enough for his friends, and loaded up the first Rosetta Stone disc while he waited for the others to arrive, or text him for directions.

Comments

[revolution_is_a_riot]

Bahorel took a few minutes to sift through his own stock of video games. Combeferre might have his own copies of Street Fighter, Marvel vs. Capcom, and the other big fighting game titles, but it never hurt to have extras along in case. If they weren't going to let him throw any real life punches, then he wanted to make sure he could throw some digital ones.

Gathering the beer, wine, and other assorted liquor that had survived the previous night's binging, he resolved that a detour (or two) to procure more spirits was in order.

"Let me know when you're ready." He called to Courfeyrac, heading out the door to put his load of bottles in the trunk of his car.

[courfeyraccat]

"I'm ready." Courfeyrac takes one final glance in the mirror to make sure he looks decent before grabbing his bag and heading out to meet Bahorel. True, they're only going to see Combeferre, and he'll likely be too drunk to care about his appearance in a few hours, but Combeferre deserves to have something nice to look at in the absence of Enjolras. "Do you know the way well enough, or do you want directions or just to carpool? Fair warning, I want to stop off somewhere and pick up a few things. Though you've got a nice collection started there. I think we should leave the 'Comrbrferrre' sign attached to the beers."

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"Just hop in, and tell me where to go. I was planning on making a shopping run anyway." Bahorel decided to ignore the comment about the sign. Some guys just didn't appreciate good handwriting. Hey, he was that drunk and Courfeyrac could still make out what all the letters were supposed to be.

"Anywhere else you need to stop, or were you just thinking about beer?"

[courfeyraccat]

"Given what you did last night and what we're planning to do tonight, you might want to be careful about putting that 'just' in front of 'beer'. But I was mainly thinking about snacks and drinks--there is more to alcohol than beer, you know. I want to get over to Combeferre's ASAP, though. I don't want him to get second thoughts about this." Courfeyrac smiles, following Bahorel to his car. "It's been too long since I've been drinking with him. I'm looking forward to it. At least as long as we all manage to be upbeat drunks."

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

"Hello?" Bossuet called, knocking on the door with one hand and clutching the squirming white kitten with the other. He wasn't sure if Combeferre would like Nerium in his apartment, but if he didn't then it was a short enough walk back to his flat to drop the kit off. Over the past, hellish week, the little thing had grown terribly edgy and clingy, and Bossuet felt horribly guilty for leaving him alone too long. Even though he was a very poor substitute for Grantaire.

In all honesty, the silent waiting was getting to him, too. Lesgles dearly hoped that they would have a concrete plan in the morning. Until then, this would be a good night to get nicely drunk.

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

"It's open," Combeferre called out. "Come in!"

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"Lesgles!"

Bahorel gave his old friend a warm hug, careful not to crush the squirming kitten. "Glad you could join us!"

Turning back to the other two, he answered Courfeyrac's question with a question of his own. "Would sober discussion actually accomplish anything?"

[courfeyraccat]

"Not when there's a kitten here." Courfeyrac reaches for the cat that's squirming in Lesgle's hands. "I'm all for drinking tonight, planning tomorrow."

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

"Hush now, don't get fussy until after you are properly welcomed!" Bossuet whispered to Nerium as he entered the kitchen.

"Hello, everyone! Combeferre, Courfeyrac, good to see you again. And Bahorel, aren't you a sight for sore eyes! Feeling up to this, after your last epic night?"

It was good to see Bahorel again. Well, technically, for the first time in this life. And now Bossuet was far too tired to continue that train of thought.

"Combeferre, I hope you don't mind that a brought a visitor? I can drop him back off, but the poor boy misses his Capital R."

Holding out the cute white kitten like an offering, Bossuet offered up his own best puppy-dog eyes.

[courfeyraccat]

Courfeyrac leans over to scratch the kitten under the chin. "Combeferre, just take a look at these eyes. You couldn't possibly want to send these eyes away."

Courfeyrac gives Combeferre his best impression of the kitten's imploring stare, though he's certain the kitten does a better job.

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"Quite well." Bahorel toasts Bossuet with his bottle, from his place by the wall. "Am I ever not up to a night out with you lot?"

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

Combeferre pauses in pinning the label Bahorel had made onto a place of honour on the fridge, the better to enjoy it even long weeks from now, to scritch the kitten's ears. "Of course he can stay. There's no litterbox for him here, though -- just keep that in mind, eh?"

Combeferre opens a beer for himself. "Let's all get drunk in the livingroom. There's plenty of food, beer, and video games for us all -- and now, added to Bahorel and Courfeyrac and Lesgles, we have a cat to keep us all entertained."

It was hard to remember to be sad and fretful of Enjolras with all his friends (and an adorable little kitten) all around him.

[revolution_is_a_riot]

Bahorel scowls at the label. The stupid piece of paper was mocking him from its new place of honor, he'd swear to it.

Giving it a dignified cold shoulder (he wasn't anywhere near drunk enough yet to start talking to scraps of paper), he follows 'Ferre into the living room.

[courfeyraccat]

Courfeyrac follows them, slinging an arm around Bahorel's shoulders. He'd seen the way Bahorel paused, watching them, and he suspects the man remembered something. Hopefully something good, though if it wasn't at least he probably won't remember it for very long. "So whose name are you going to butcher tonight? Should we have you just do calligraphy for all of us?"

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

"He can butcher any one of mine, with an easy excuse! You should see my signature when I'm far drunk." Bossuet chimed in.

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

Combeferre gestured with his beer bottle at the cupboard of the TV stand. "There's lots of movies in there. Some are Enjolras', though."

A part of him was extra glad he hadn't left his porn lying around. Some things were private. But if the video games weren't good enough, the pile of movies should do the trick. Hopefully.

"I have no doubt you can drink me under the table. You do it far more than I do."

The cat was trying to climb up the couch, making 'ferre grin a little, but he didn't reach out to help the creature. He figured the kitten could find his own way around. The couch was leather, so hard to ruin by scratching. At, Combeferre hopes so.

[courfeyraccat]

Courfeyrac reaches down to dangle his fingers in front of the kitten's face, urging it on as it climbs up the couch. Lounging closer to Combeferre, he works on his second drink. "I'm not sure either of you would have any truly terrible movies, unless you've been hiding something from me. That's all right, though. We can put something foreign in without subtitles and make up our own script for it. Or, if you've got camera equipment, we can really try to make Nerium a web star. Or watch cats on the internet. Or, like you said to start, play a video game."

Maybe he's not going to need too many shots to get him thoroughly drunk. Between last night and all the worrying, apparently it's not going to take a great deal to make coherent thought disappear.

Leaning against Combeferre, he smiles as the kitten clambers all the way up onto the couch. "Have you ever had shots with good tequila? Because it's a lot nicer than the terrible stuff most people drink here, especially with a good fresh lime. I made sure we got some of the good stuff."

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"Mmm, that sounds good." Bahorel hops up off of the couch. "I'll pour some up. Who wants one?"

"Start up whatever you guys like. I'm not hard to entertain."

[courfeyraccat]

"After Africa, then." Courfeyrac hesitates, wondering if he should pull back from Combeferre. It sounds like there may be memories or issues he's treading on without meaning to. On the other hand, Combeferre is leaning back against him and didn't seem to mind being close the other night. Plus he just likes touching his friends. It's comforting, not necessarily sexual... though that's probably a better argument when they aren't talking about Combeferre's porn collection.

Courfeyrac stumbles when Bahorel pushes them, pulling away from Combeferre and turning to the larger man. "I think it's the time period. Though just because I'm touching him doesn't mean you have to watch out for random kissing. I seem to remember being rather close with you last night, too. And I'm not gay, for the record. I'm pansexual. As long as they're cute and willing, I'm happy."

And as long as they won't mind if he stops, sometimes, because anything that gets him too emotionally invested has a tendency to bring memories to the forefront that he wouldn't be able to explain to anyone outside the Amis and their allies.

He considers for just a moment before sighing. Time to lighten things up again before he starts thinking about things he doesn't want to right now. "I may end up kissing people before the night is through, though, if we do end up getting really drunk. It'll seem like a good idea at the time, just like threatening to kiss Enjolras did last night."

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"Suit yourself" Bahorel shrugs in response to 'Ferre refusing his offer of tequila. And to his disinterest in women. "More for me." He pours himself a shot.

"And I didn't say you were gay, 'Fey" He clarifies after knocking back his drink, smirking a little at the unintentional rhyme, "I said 'gay, or otherwise open to that kind of thing'. Pansexual, or whatever you call yourself, fits into that too."

So do his own preferences, but he won't voice those outloud unless there's enough reason, or blood-alcohol, and so far neither is true. There's just something weird about discussing his sexuality with this group. Maybe he's known them too long.
Maybe because he likes to keep a distance between his long-term emotional connections and his sex life. And this lot are set firmly in the former category.

Well, whatever, the porn tapes are behind them, and they seem to be moving on to less, turbulent, subjects.
Mostly.
He can't resist needling 'Fey a bit more. "I'm not scared. 's not like you tried to kiss me last night. I think." He eyes Courfeyrac with feigned suspicion. "And I don't think your threats to Enjolras count. That guy would make even the straightest man have awkward thoughts." He snorts. Then pours himself another shot.

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

"A pirate. What was your pirate name?" Combeferre furrows his brow. "I wasn't a pirate. I was a doctor. And... something." He finishes the beer and slams it down on the table, misjudging the distance via blurred depth perception. "Oops. Can I have some of that? I've never had rum. Or if I did, not by itself."

Combeferre scratches his head thoughtfully. "I dunno. What do you wanna play? I'll kick your ass at Trivial Pursuit, you know that. Maybe something that relies more on luck would be fairer to the rest of us."

He reaches for the beer bottle, and goes to take a drink before noticing that it's empty. Staring forlornly with one eye at the lonely drop of beer at the bottom, he keeps talking. "Did you know that the game Battleship has been around since before World War I? When people used to play it with pencil and grid paper? I'm sure it was just as fun back then. People call it by lots of other names, or at least they used to, names like Broadsides or Battleboats or Warfare Naval Combat. There's like 60 alternate names in different languages that all kinda just mean Battleship. I think that's kinda funny, don't you? I want another beer."

[courfeyraccat]

"Warfare Naval Combat. I like it. It's a mouthful of a name, and you don't get long game names all that often. I think we should play that, if four people can play it."

Combeferre wants to try rum. And he wants another beer. Courfeyrac can manage that. Grabbing another beer out of the fridge, he frowns at the bottles. Did they get more rum? He's not sure. Oh, well. At least he knows where one bottle is.

Walking back over to Bahorel, he leans against his arm and pulls on the rum bottle. The first time he reaches for the rum with the hand that already has the beer bottle in it. That doesn't work so well, and he carefully transfers the beer to his other hand before reaching for the rum, leaning more heavily against Bahorel as he does. "Combeferre wants that, so we're pillaging it, my bonny pirate."

Was he ever a pirate? Maybe. He's not sure, and he really doesn't want to start searching for memories right now.

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"I don't think 'bonny' is a good pirate word." Bahorel protests with a frown. He holds the rum out away from Courfeyrac. "It sounds like a girly hat."

"Stop grabbing, 'Fey. You don't pillage from pirates, they pillage from you." He shoulders him gently (he thinks) out of the way. "I can pour 'Ferre some rum."

He grabs a new cup, and pours some rum into it, mostly succeeding in getting it in the glass. Then he hands the cup of liquid out to Combeferre. "Here ya go."

"I don't know my pirate name. But I definitely was one."
He plops back down by his own cup, and rescues another game piece from Nerium. "Stop it, fuzz."

The world is getting a little fuzzy. He's had a good bit of alcohol. He's not drunk to incapi.... incapata.... not being able to do stuff yet. But he's had a good bit.
He sips some more rum.

[courfeyraccat]

Courfeyrac kneels down by Bahorel, trying not to laugh too much as he studies the man's now very damp clothes. "That didn't work too well. Lost the kitten and the drink. You must be fine if you're still drinking, though."

Courfeyrac narrows his eyes and frowns. Still drinking Combeferre's drink. He's going to have to rectify this. Reaching out carefully, he tries to pull the drink out of Bahorel's hand. "'s not yours, you know. All of the rum does not belong to you, even if you're apparently going to be using it as cologne now."

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

"Nonononoo, it's okay." Combeferre gets up. "Ha, I can stand up." And stumbles over to get the bottle of rum. "I have the whoooole bottle now. Mine."

He drinks straight from the bottle, then goes to sit back down on the couch. And he makes it, sort of, falling down into Courfeyrac's lap.

"Kitty left, though," he mumbles into Courfeyrac's leg.