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

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

Fuzzily, 'ferre thinks that maybe if he were sober he'd find something wrong -- or at least funny -- about the thought of two of his friends petting a kitten that's currently sitting on his lap, but right now he just thinks it makes sense. After all, the kitten is soft and pettable, and it's not like they're petting him.

Well, maybe Combeferre wouldn't mind if they petted him. Hmmm.

"I'm not much of a singer, Courfeyrac," he slurs the name a little. "That's 'kay though. I like that one Bahorel's singing."

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

Bossuet grinned, watching Nerium get plenty of love and attention. At least 'Ferre had the good sense to keep him away from the edible game pieces.

Raising his phone, he snaps a picture of Bahorel petting the little fuzz ball. Grantaire will appreciate this, and he has no intention of letting Bahorel ever forget or deny this moment.

"We're singing now? Can't we just meow instead? Might sound better."

[courfeyraccat]

"'Determination that is incorruptible, from the other side a terror to behold, annihilation will be unavoidable...'" Courfeyrac trails off, frowning as he considers the words. "Do you ever get the feeling that a whole lot of songs could be applied to us? Or am I just thinking about things way too hard?"

He scratches Nerium under the chin, earning a purr from the kitten and causing her to start kneading with her claws. At least it's a good image, thinking of them with a song like 'Indestructible'. Lions and tigers and black mambas beware, when facing Enjolras and Les Amis annihilation is unavoidable.

Turning to Bossuet, currently taking pictures of them, he grins. "We can totally start meowing songs. We can meow Christmas carols, and put all the barking dogs to shame."

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"I'm not sure I know how to meow." Bahorel confesses. "I think we should leave it to the little expert here." He pats the cat on the head. "I bet he's got a great meowing voice. He'll make all the girl kitties swoon."

Bossuet is taking pictures of the kitten. Maybe they'll put up cat videos after all.

He nods to 'Fey. "There's all kindsa songs about us." He says knowingly. "Lots of them are really cool, too. Lots of fighting and awesome." He looks a little more somber for a moment. "People love a good fucking tragedy."

He decides he needs another beer, and stands up to retrieve one. He runs into the corner of a table on his way, and lets out a few curses, but otherwise succeeds in getting his liquor.

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

'Ferre finishes off the rum in his glass, then reaches over and gives the empty glass to Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac had given it to him, so it only makes sense to give the glass back when he was done. Right?

He scritches the kitten's ears while Bossuet takes pictures, hoping that the pictures focus more on the cat and less on, well, him. Combeferre's not really self-conscious, nor does he consider himself anti-camera, but the last vestiges of his rational brain don't want to see evidence of how drunk he was later.

"Therrree's a hu--whole musical about us too, didja know that?" 'Ferre notices he has a beer in his hand still and opens it. "Best leave singing to the professionals. And the meowing."

He watches, fascinated, as Nerium stretches out under the petting and yawns.

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

Bossuet snaps some more pics.

"Smile, Ferre! These are so going online. Grantaire and Enjolras will love them. Aww, the little one's getting tired."

[courfeyraccat]

"Does this mean we have to put him to bed?" Courfeyrac looks down at the kitten in disappointment. "We shouldn't let him stay up too late. Grantaire would think that we're bad cat-uncles."

He has an empty glass in his hand somehow. Right. Combeferre had given it to him. It shouldn't be empty. It should have more rum in it, so that Combeferre can continue to relax and look adorable with a cute kitten on his lap. Holding the glass out to Bahorel, he smiles. "Combeferre needs a refill."

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"Surre." His voice sounds a little funny.
He takes the glass from Courfeyrac, and walks over to the bottle of rum to refill it.
Pouring rum into the cup is harder than he remembers it being. His hands get wet, as does the carpet, and his pants. He frowns down at them. That's not where rum should be.

Standing up with the glass he wanders back over to the couch, and takes a seat next to 'Ferre.

"'s a party, no'one needss to go sleep on time." He laughs "No cat classes tom'rrow. Or iff he did, 'd bet he'll sleep through." He looks fondly at the little thing.
"It'd be cool to be ' cat."

He takes a drink of the rum.

"Sleepin' alll day. Pret'ndin to kill... little things. Chewing on fingers. 'Smaybe toes."

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

Bossuet bursts out laughing as Bahorel spills wine down himself. Deciding he's not quite drunk enough yet, he decides to remedy that.

"He'll sleep when he's ready, shouldn't be a problem. Here, Bahorel. So it doesn't look like you've had a little accident at your great age!"

He grabs a beer for himself and a wad of paper towels for his friend.

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

As if on cue, Nerium jumps neatly onto Bahorel's head and mews. Combeferre finds this hilarious.

"Hope you're still recording, Bossuet."

Combeferre frowns. "I never sleep through class. I like class. Learn things." He leans his head back against the couch. "I like things. Learning things. sfun."

[courfeyraccat]

"We like you liking things, Combeferre. And learning. It's what you're supposed to do. Learn and teach." Courfeyrac frowns at Bahorel drinking from the glass. "And you're not supposed to have that! It was supposed to go to Combeferre."

Courfeyrac tries to take the glass of rum away from Bahorel. Hopefully with Nerium on his head as a distraction it won't be too hard.

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

"Don't you dare spill that on Nerium!" Bossuet shouts. Nerium, he strongly suspects, would not be pleased by an alcohol bath. Or by being disturbed from his new and comfortable perch atop Bahorel's head. Bossuet took a moment to be very thankful that his own head did not apparently make an acceptable perch. He had no hair to cushion the little feline claws.

[revolution_is_a_riot]

Suddenly, the fuzzball is on his head. "What thh-!"

He tries to look up at it, but moving his head back causes the cat to dig little claws into his scalp. "Ow!" He quickly levels his head again.

Just in time to see Courfeyrac coming for his rum.

"Woah!" He jumps back, and up onto his feet. Trying to not spill the rum, or the kitten in the process.

It would have worked too, if the alcohol wasn't messing with his coordination. He stumbles as his weight shifts to his feet, and his inebriated sense of balance sends him backwards onto the floor.

Nerium, not one to go down with the ship, takes off from his head as he falls, and lands neatly, perfectly dry, a few feet away. The kitten huffily licks himself, and toddles off towards Bossuet. Bahorel gets a nice upside-down view of the kitten's haughty departure.

The glass of rum splashed about half of it's volume onto his chest and the floor next to him, but thanks to his efforts, the rest was retained in the cup.

With a sigh, Bahorel props himself up far enough to take nice long swig.

[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.

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

"Aww, you two are adorable when drunk," Bossuet teases. He pets his newly returned kitten and takes another swig of beer.

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"T'smell ff rum is good." Bahorel points out. Nothing wrong with smelling like rum. It worked for pirates, didn't it?

"S' my glass. I saved it. I drink it." He struggles to a sitting position. His clothes are very wet. He picks at the front of his shirt, pulling it out away from his chest to examine it. Yep. Very very wet. He lets it go and it quickly goes back to stickily clinging to him. Then he polishes off the rum in his (purloined) cup.

He would have offered to fight for it. But 'Fey doesn't seem to want it anymore now. Which is good, because it's empty.

He looks down into the empty glass. The rum left a faint golden tinge at the very bottom. It was pretty.

When he looks up he notices Combefr face down on Corfrac's lap. Were they like that before? He laughs anyway.

Courfeyc has Combfre, and Bosut has a kitty. They match.

[courfeyraccat]

"We can get you another kitty." Courfeyrac smiles down at Combeferre in his lap. His fingers bury themselves in Combeferre's hair without his really telling them to, stroking Combeferre's head as they had Nerium. "Or get that kitty back. I don't think Lesgle's going to eat him. Probably."

Turning to grin at Lesgle and the kitten, he nods. "We're adorable any time, but it's easier t' be adorable when drunk. Nothing else pesky taking up neurons. You and the kitten are 'dorable, too. And Bahorel's pretty cute smelling at his shirt. Yep, we're all 'dorable."

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

Combeferre mumbles into Courfeyrac's leg. ""m not adorable. Sexy. Yesh. That's me."

He considers getting up so he can drink from the bottle of rum in his hand, but decides he's comfortable enough as he is.

"Your pants smell good."

[courfeyraccat]

"You are very sexy." Courfeyrac continues to stroke Combeferre's hair. "Definitely very sexy. Doesn't mean you can't be adorable too. Adorably sexy. And I'm glad that you like the way my pants smell. I try to keep them clean and smelling nice. I like the way you smell, too. And the way your place smells. Lots of good smells to go around."

Including the smell of alcohol, and he looks at the bottle in Combeferre's hand. "Could I have some, or do you want it all? I don't mind if you want it all. Then you can be sexy drunk adorable."

[aneaglefarfromhisnest]

"Yes, Ferre, you are adorably sexy. We are all adorably sexy. And God, I think I need something stronger than beer right now. Be a good host, Ferre?"

Bossuet grinned devilishly, wondering whether Ferre or Courfeyrac would protest first.

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"Get a room!" Bahorel cat-calls from his place on the floor, grinning at them.

"Hey, 'Fey... how c'me I can't havvehis rum, but you're gonna take it? Thass... thats... nonequall alchol rightss." He nods. "Enjlas wouln't like it."

He also nods at Legle's lack of drinks. It should be fixed. "Don' worrry. We got lotsss. Rumm, n' beer, 'n voka, 'n wine, 'n beer, 'n whiskey, n' rum, n' bourbn, nd wine..." He feels like he's forgetting some.

[decipheredhieroglyphics]

Combeferre holds out his rum, face still buried in Courfeyrac's leg. Hey, this is comfortable.

"Who'ver wantssssit c'n haaave it. Don'tthink I'll be upright enough to drink it."

A pause. "You're drunk 'nough, Bahorel. You're ev'n drunker'n meeeeee."

Then he sighs. "Enjolr's wooont approve of us being all drunk'n his livin'room. But I really miss Enjolras. Like, I really miss Enjolras. A lot."

[courfeyraccat]

"I don't think Combeferre's walking very good right now. It's why he's sitting in my lap." Courfeyrac nods at his own wisdom. "Maybe Bahorel can get you something, Bossuet. And there's no non-equality goin' on with the rum. I asked if I could have his rum. I didn' just take it like you did. 'S perfectly fine to ask for someone's drink. Then you can share. Enjolras would like sharing just fine."

He misses Enjolras. He misses him a great deal, and his hand stills on Combeferre's head. "I miss him, too. I want him home with us. I don't want him playing with lions and cannibals and tigers and sharks in Africa. I want him fighting stuff over here, so we can help him."

He has Combeferre here, though, and Bahorel, and Lesgles, and they're going to be leaving tomorrow to get Enjolras and Grantaire back. It's going to be okay. "And Enjolras can't get 'set about us bein' drunk here. 'S his fault. Him and stupid planes."

Leaning over, Courfeyrac kisses the back of Combeferre's head. "'Sides, he's not going to know. We won' tell him this part of our grand adventure of savin' him. It'll be our secret. Even Nerium won' tell."

[revolution_is_a_riot]

"I cn por you some stff." Bahorel assures Lesgle. He sets his empty glass down beside himself, and clambers back to his feet. He almost loses his balance twice in the process, but manages not to fall back over.
Meandering over to the kitchen, he grabs a cup and a bottle of bourbon, and proceeds to pour about half of it onto the floor before getting a decent amount in the cup. He frowns at the bottle, takes a swig from it, and walks over to Bossuet to present him with the cup.

"It's not fair Enjls gets to hve allll the fun wthot us. He's offf fightng with liooons, n' sharks, n' koalas n' stuff, and weee're stuck here worryng." He shakes his head. "'S all th plannes fault. We shuld teach 'em. Tie 'm in big knots, 'n see if they cn crash then!" He nods. "If I hd a plaane now, 'd make it pay."

He takes another sip from the bourbon.