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Montparnasse and Jehan have a very good arrangement: Montparnasse only accompanies them to hangouts with their friends if the point of those hangouts has nothing to do with politics or activism. Sadly, Montparnasse has been forced to learn, even if something hasn’t been organized around the idea of activism, there is a pretty good chance of it turning into that sort of gathering anyway. This evening started out fine, but now Enjolras is standing behind a table and talking excitedly.
“Don’t pull faces,” Jehan says fondly from where they are sprawled across Grantaire’s lap on the couch. “This still counts as conversation.”
Grantaire grins and Montparnasse gives them both a blank look. He glances at Enjolras – whose combination of beauty and bad dress Montparnasse chooses to take as a personal insult – and frowns. If the rest of that bunch excitable students manages to let Enjolras rant in silence, he might deflate after a while and move on. To his horror, Combeferre suddenly shakes his head.
“I cannot quite agree with you there, Enj,” he starts up and Montparnasse lets out a suffering groan.
“You were saying?” he snarks at Jehan and with a sigh he lifts up their feet so he can sit next to Grantaire.
“If you come a little closer, I can lie on both of you,” Jehan coaxes.
“Indecent proposals,” Grantaire gasps and Montparnasse hums: “Greedy.” But he readily moves over so Jehan can have their way.
The moment he leans back and rests his arms along the back of the couch, however, Montparnasse sees a movement across the room that makes him glance at Enjolras. The blond head is already turned towards Combeferre again, but Montparnasse is sure he was looking just now. Slowly a sly smile appears on Montparnasse’s face. He can’t be sure yet, but it’s worth a try…
“I don’t know who you are to start up about indecent proposals,” he says deliberately. “You’re the one cuddling my partner.”
“Oh,” Grantaire chuckles. “Forgive me.”
With a decent amount of showmanship he wraps an arm around Montparnasse and instead of pushing him away like he absolutely would have done normally Montparnasse lets him and even leans into him some more. Grantaire laughs in surprise and Jehan looks genuinely delighted, but Montparnasse is grinning because of a very different reason. Enjolras actually fell silent for a confused moment before hastily resuming his argument.
“This is cosy,” Jehan says happily. They twinkle their eyes at Montparnasse. “We should do this more often.”
“Should we,” Montparnasse hums amusedly.
Grantaire is just then reaching towards the side table for his glass, so he doesn’t see that his boyfriend is looking at them again. Montparnasse does though. When Grantaire moves back, Montparnasse quickly wraps his hand around Grantaire’s and brings the glass to his own lips instead.
“Oi,” Grantaire protests and Montparnasse hums dismissively as he takes a long sip before releasing Grantaire’s hand. When he looks up, he looks straight into Enjolras’ eyes that are fixed on him intently for just a second before immediately looking away again.
“I feel left out,” Jehan complains.
“Here,” Grantaire says jokingly and he pretends to tip the glass towards where they’re lying on his lap.
Jehan squeals and holds up their hands defensively, making Grantaire laugh before he takes a drink himself.
Montparnasse rests his hand on Jehan’s knee to still their wriggling legs and glances towards the impromptu debating corner. Enjolras’ cheeks are a little redder than they were before, but he seems to be listening to Combeferre.
“You know,” Montparnasse says nonchalantly. “You’d have very good hair if you didn’t keep getting paint in it.”
“What paint?” Grantaire frowns, tipping his head forward so his curls tumble past his face.
“Hi,” Jehan smiles up at him as his face gets closer to theirs.
“Here,” Montparnasse says, combing through Grantaire’s hair with his fingers a lot more thoroughly than he needs to. “Wash your hair more carefully,” he smirks. “Or chose a different shade, yellow is not your colour.”
“R looks lovely in yellow,” Jehan protests fondly.
“Well, he should keep it out of his hair,” Montparnasse says.
Grantaire lifts his head and gives him a lopsided grin, which is perfect, because it means he doesn’t see Enjolras completely forgetting to answer Combeferre and downright staring in their direction. It’s taking Montparnasse a considerable amount of restraint not to laugh out loud. Enjolras had no problem with Jehan basically lying on top of Grantaire, but this is ruffling his feathers. How utterly transparent.
“Jehan,” Montparnasse observes dryly. “Your friend looks like a scruffy sheep.”
“He’s a cute sheep,” Jehan says decidedly and they adds, to Montparnasse’s amused triumph: “And you messed up his hair.”
“Let me fix it then,” he smirks and he reaches back up to fix Grantaire’s curls. Grantaire really does have nice hair, it’s a shame he doesn’t bother to get a proper haircut.
“Hi Enjolras,” Jehan chimes cheerfully.
Montparnasse looks up with a dazzling grin. “Oh yes, hi Enjolras.”
Enjolras is suddenly standing in front of the sofa looking very red in the face and very conflicted.
“Hey,” Grantaire says, a sunshine smile immediately taking up his whole face. He holds out his hand and Enjolras takes it, glancing at Montparnasse with a strange mix of suspicion and confusion on his face.
Montparnasse, who still has one arm around Grantaire and one hand resting on Jehan’s knee, smiles at him. “I thought you were busy having a refreshing debate? Is something the matter?”
“I wasn’t- I- No,” Enjolras splutters indignantly.
Montparnasse can barely keep a straight face, but sadly that is when Jehan notices Enjolras’ ruffled look. They immediately sit upright and smile at him. “I’m in your spot, aren’t I?”
“It’s not my spot,” Enjolras says hastily.
“It is too,” Jehan says and they scoot over, wrapping their arms firmly around Montparnasse’s neck and effectively forcing him to lean away from Grantaire to settle them comfortably on his lap. That means the end of the game, but since it means having Jehan wrapped around him Montparnasse can’t really mind.
“It kind of is,” Grantaire grins, gently pulling Enjolras onto his lap and wrapping his arms around him. “You’ve got the exclusive rights to it anyway.”
“Hm,” Montparnasse hums, nuzzling Jehan’s neck. “But that would imply people can be spoken of as property and that is terrible, isn’t it.”
Enjolras’ glare could rival the sun and Montparnasse repays him with a grin that would put a wolf to shame.