【ER】Golden Rule

This is something that hasn't been seen recently: Grantaire is shaving off his beard.

That's not to say he never shaves—it's just that he's gotten used to not trying to keep his beard clean since at least three or four years ago.He let his image go his own way, and so long oscillated between the tramp singer and the slightly more civilized Robinson Crusoe.Whenever Courfeyrac couldn't take it anymore and claimed that it would affect the procuratorate's winning rate, he would hastily clean up those decadent broken hairs, and let them be kept at an untidy level where the skin color could still be seen anyway.But here and now: he's killing them all.The razor pushed a path through the foam on his face, and there was only a faint blue color left on that piece of skin.It was extraordinary, but overall, it was an extraordinary weekend.

The whole weekend begins on Friday night.After Eponine hurried away looking at her watch, the kid named Gavroche raised his arms and looked up at Grantaire.

"Can you let me in?" he said, "Although I don't know what Eponine is thinking, I guess I can only stay with you first."

"Uh, of course," Grantaire said, taking a step back to clear the hallway.After all, he didn't know what Eponine thought—let him take care of Azma's child!This can only show that she is really desperate now.Still, he wasn't sure what the kid thought of him.He didn't even know what to say.

"Thanks," said the kid, and walked into the room.He turned to Enjolras again, in a way of patrolling the army, "And you, who are you?"

Enjolras was stunned. "I am Enjolras," he said cautiously.

"Oh," said the child, "you are the one who defended the man who killed old Thenardier. Éponine really sent me to hell for tea."

Enjolras looked both offended and puzzled.He looked up at Grantaire and mouthed: Who is this kid?

Grantaire sighed.Eponine's sister, he mouthed, her son.

"Oh." Enjolras sighed in surprise.He looked down at the kid, and Grantaire could see a restrained compassion and pity in his eyes.

Gavroche glanced at Enjolras—the young and mature child obviously recognized that look.

"Where's the TV?" he said aloud. "Do you have premium channels?"

"It's there." Grantaire quickly pointed to him, "but you'd better not watch the premium channels."

"Thanks, Grantaire," the kid said, as if missing the rest of his sentence.He walked away in a very dignified manner, took off his shoes, climbed onto the couch, and turned on the TV.The sound of the stereo immediately filled the whole room.

"Well, that's the way it is." Grantaire sighed, and he went to Enjolras, "I'm sorry I agreed with Eponine to put him here without asking your opinion. But it's just a weekend .”

Enjolras shook his head. "It's okay," he said. "You don't have to ask me. This is your house. If you want, I can move out to make room for the guest room."

"Of course not!" Grantaire said immediately, "There's no need for that. I plan to free up the study. And... I don't know how to get along with this kid alone. You're doing me a favor by staying." Of course Well, it's one thing to have trouble facing Azma's son, he thought.More importantly, he didn't want Enjolras to move.

Enjolras looked at him.Just when Grantaire thought he would insist on leaving, he nodded.

"Okay." He said, "Let me help you clean up the study."

He turned and walked towards the stairs so quickly that if Grantaire hadn't been self-aware, he would have thought that Enjolras was afraid that he would change his mind.Gavroche was still engrossed in watching the TV, and they quickly went up the stairs.There is a bathroom and two rooms on the second floor of Grantaire's house, his own bedroom on the left and his study on the right.He pointed to the right, and Enjolras opened the door.

"Oh," he said.

His "oh" has to be justified.In terms of chaos, Grantaire's bedroom dared not compete with his study.One entire wall of the room has been turned into bookcases, filled with various objects: metronomes, empty sugar bowls, small African wood carvings, books—many of which seem to prefer lying on the ground rather than on the shelves .Enjolras cautiously pushed the door open, and some books that were spread out in front of the door were swept behind by the door panel, only to reveal an open space to step down.Among those books: Federal Rules of Evidence, American Jazz Development (20s to 60s), Neoclassical Oil Paintings, Flowers of Evil.Enjolras seemed to frown at the mixed subject, and then he saw a copy of The Constitution and the Rights of Man tucked under Grantaire's old wooden desk with a piece missing in one leg.

"You use it as a table leg, huh?"

"This one is thinner." Grantaire said flatteringly, "The "Criminal Code" is too thick."

Enjolras shook his head and walked a little further inside.A camp bed stands upright in a corner, and in front of it is a cardboard box, in which there are many half-crowded, dirty, or dried-up paint tubes because they have no caps.Two palettes were inserted into the side of the carton, stacked with half-washed dry paint.A wooden easel was leaning against the box, too—it was also dirty with paint.

"Is this yours?" Enjolras asked, sounding surprised. "You draw?"

"I went to the Academy of Fine Arts for two years as an undergraduate." Grantaire shrugged his shoulders and picked up the easel, "I'm not bad at painting."

"Don't draw now?"

"No more drawing."

Enjolras didn't speak anymore, he seemed to be still digesting his doubts.He took the easel from Grantaire and moved it aside to make room for the cot.It wasn't until Grantaire bent down to reach the box of paint that he spoke again.

"If you studied fine arts—why did you go to law school?"

All right, Grantaire thought.I knew he would ask this.

"I used to believe that art, like institutions, has its eternal and changeable beauty." He said lazily, pushing the box of paint aside vigorously. "I was young and stupid then."

Enjolras frowned at him.

"The law is beautiful," he said cautiously.

Grantaire smiled.

"I doubt it," he said. "What's the beauty in it?"

"Human intelligence, human voice, desire, hope for a better world." Enjolras said immediately, "Always fight against yourself, sometimes progress slowly, sometimes overnight. Sometimes ideal, sometimes weapon... Using it and shouting for it is for the betterment of society."

Grantaire finally pushed the box to the corner, stood up panting slightly, and looked at Enjolras.The blond man looked calm, but his eyes were full of enthusiasm.Even though it was just a daily chat, and even though he spoke in a blunt tone, these words were spoken so naturally, as if he could say them immediately without even thinking about them, as if they came directly from his heart.He really believes what he says, Grantaire thinks, and I envy him.

He licked a chapped cut on his lip. "Do you still believe in it now?" he asked, "Do you still have the patience for it?" After all your frustrations, belittlements, suspicions?He didn't say that.

"I still believe in it and I'm patient with it," Enjolras said.

Grantaire bit his lip.I envy him, he thought.

"But I doubt it," he said.

They didn't speak for a while.Grantaire brought out the camp bed leaning against the corner of the room, and Enjolras helped him pull down the bed board and set it up.Then they each made the bed with one side of the sheet, and Grantaire began to find the room awkwardly quiet, so he spoke again.

"Anyway," he joked, "you know now that I studied art before. To be fair, would you like to share something too?"

Enjolras looked up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Just something I don't know," Grantaire said. "Is there anything about you that I can't guess? Like, uh, like—you actually have a closet of Barbie dolls or something ?”

Enjolras said nothing.Grantaire wasn't sure if he was seriously thinking about what to say, or if he thought the subject was boring and didn't bother to continue.Just when he thought that the other party would not answer again, Enjolras spoke.

"I did boxing," he said, folding his arms.

Grantaire's eyes widened.

"Have you ever boxed?" he gapes, trying to think of Enjolras in his boxing vest. "How long?"

"Five years," said Enjolras.

"God," Grantaire blurted out, "so it's true when you said in the bar that you could single out those drunks."

"What heads-up?"

"Nothing, nothing." Grantaire said, waving his hands repeatedly.Good guy, he thought he was protecting Enjolras that day, but he didn't expect that he was actually protecting the thin provocateur.

"Don't you believe me?" said Enjolras.

"A little bit," Grantaire said. He patted the corner of the sheet and stood up. "If you had to learn something, I thought it would be harp or solar car driving."

Enjolras frowned. "What?"

"It's nothing." Grantaire grinned because of his own joke, and for a moment he became playful. He walked towards Enjolras, gathered his fists under his chin, and made a boxing gesture, "Why did you practice?" Boxing? Physical strength and mental strength are good for your career? That sounds like something you would say." He said with a smile, imitating the position he saw on the boxing show, throwing one fist towards the Enjolras' face protruded sideways. "Ah, boxing. Like this?"

"That's a good point." Enjolras said seriously, as if he didn't catch the joke in his words. "Besides, sports cultivate perseverance and self-discipline." He raised one hand and held Grand in it. Tyre put his fist on the side of his face, "No, you should use your strength instead of just holding your hand here. Also, you can't start by thinking about avoiding the target and hitting to the side." He held the Take a fist and move it in front of the bridge of your nose, "If you're going to make a fist, you should be serious about coming here."

"Then I must not be a disciplined person," Grantaire said, flabbergasted by Enjolras' gesture, "Hey. Are you serious?"

Enjolras nodded at him, and he let go of Grantaire's fist, took a half step back, tucked his fists under his chin, and raised his eyes to Grantaire.

"Of course. Want to try?" he said, his eyes almost amused.

Grantaire swallowed.

"Okay." He said hesitantly, and took a step back. This time, he studied Enjolras' posture a little more seriously, and even swayed pretendingly. "Don't look at me as lazy, I'm not without strength," he said, calming down, and swung his right hand towards Enjolras' beautiful face, "You are not afraid that I will really break the bridge of your nose—"

His words got stuck in his throat.It was too late, but it was too late, Enjolras took a step forward, lowered his body to avoid Grantaire's fist, at the same time, he also swung his right hand, and rushed straight at Grantaire nose—then turned just a fist away from the tip of his nose, swishing it past his ear.

"...Good guy." Grantaire said in a daze.He wanted to say one more sentence: "Thank you for your mercy", but he couldn't say it now.Enjolras, having avoided his face at the last moment, now rests his right arm on the left side of his cheek, almost touching his ear.He takes a big step forward as he punches, so that by this time his body is in front of Grantaire, chest almost against his chest—it's almost as if he's hugging him from the back of his head.Grantaire's eyes widened, Enjolras's face was very close at this moment, the sharp bridge of the nose stayed beside his nose bridge, and the beautiful lips hung above his lips.He could feel Enjolras' slight panting without effort—was he panting, or was Enjolras panting?

The atmosphere is almost dizzying.Who would have thought boxing action would bring about such a spectacle?Grantaire didn't dare to speak, but Enjolras also fell silent.Grantaire slightly raised his gaze upwards, under Enjolras' sharp browbones, the golden eyelashes seemed to sway slightly under a wavering expression, those blue eyes looked down, as if they were looking at Grantaire lips.Would Enjolras also be distraught?Grantaire thought.for me?This is impossible.But he couldn't resist the temptation of Enjolras' lips so close.When people are close, when they are quiet, they feel that mysterious attraction, they should kiss.He lowered his eyes and leaned towards Enjolras, and the god also slightly closed his golden eyelids, and did not refuse him...

"...Grantaire!" A voice sounded outside the door, accompanied by footsteps on the stairs, "Can you log in to your paid account?"

Grantaire's eyes widened suddenly.

Like waking up from a dream, he suddenly pushed Enjolras away.Because the latter was defenseless, he was pushed back two steps and sat down on the camp bed.He stared blankly at Grantaire with an expression of disbelief rather than panic.Seeing his ears turn red, Grantaire guessed his face must not be much better either.

"...I'm sorry." He muttered, not daring to look at Enjolras any more, and immediately turned and went out the door.

Gavroche was standing on the stairs watching him with the TV remote.

"Wait a minute. Didn't you just plan to mess around with me on the bed you're going to sleep in?" He looked at Grantaire uncertainly and said, rolling his eyes, "Did I bother you?"

"No, brat." Grantaire said quickly, "Come on, I'll help you deal with that TV."

Of course, Grantaire didn't shave off his beard on a Friday night.This also didn't happen on Saturday.After the incident in the study, Enjolras behaved exactly as usual the next day.If Grantaire hadn't been convinced he hadn't had a drink on Friday, he'd almost have thought it was just a dream.Forget it, he thought, those football players sometimes kiss on the field for no apparent reason.This happens when the distance between people is too close.Even though he had never seen Enjolras show affection for anyone, or imagined him in a state of disorientation.If it wasn't for Enjolras, he almost thought that the other party favored him so much.However, Enjolras' expression on Saturday said it all—it was probably just a temporary loss of self-control under the bewitching distance.Grantaire quickly talked himself out of thinking about it, and he, too, became natural—or seemed natural.He spent half a day sitting on the sofa reading a novel while firmly grasping the remote control of the TV—Enjolras was helping Gavroche with his arithmetic homework by the dining table, and the kid looked at him in less than 5 minutes. Wanted to jump up and run into the living room and continue enjoying Grantaire's TV account...or out the window.After all, it's easy to jump out the window when an Enjolras is seriously reasoning with you.Given this realization, Grantaire comforted Gavroche with a double cheese pizza that night.The way he wolfed down his dinner made Grantaire feel that taking care of the child seemed unimaginably difficult, but he also wondered in the depths of his heart—what kind of growth experience would allow him, himself and Enjolras to get along and behave in peace? Take it easy?Is it because he was ungrateful to both his mother and grandfather, or because he knows too well how important resilience is to survival?

Early on Sunday morning, Grantaire was woken up by a knock on the door.The voice was rude and restrained, and it must not be Enjolras.He opened the door, his eyes were still blurred because he just woke up.A thin figure stood in front of the door.

"You're too lazy to sleep up until now," Gavroche yelled, "I can paint your walls today, right?"

"What?" Grantaire said.He hasn't woken up yet.

"Paint the wall. You promised me," the kid said. "Your boyfriend said I finished my homework today, so he won't bother me anymore."

"I told you," Grantaire said, "he's not my boyfriend."

"Okay." Gavroche said, "That's right, only elderly and middle-aged couples sleep in separate rooms. Come on, it doesn't matter! The important thing is that you promised me to let me paint the walls."

Grantaire sighed. "Okay. I remember," he said, yawning. "How do you want to swipe?"

"It doesn't matter," said the kid. "I just want some color. The more the better, the crazier the better."

Grantaire thought for a moment.Looking past Gavroche, he saw the open door of the study.The box of old paint that he had pushed aside was piled up next to the door frame.An idea slipped into his mind.

"I see," he said, laughing, and the pleasant feeling from the time when he and Éponine were messing with the walls came to him suddenly. "Come with me."

They held two filled balloons (yes, balloons. Grantaire took Gavroche to water the paints that were too dry to use, one color into one balloon, Then tie the mouth tightly. They probably made a plastic bucket with dozens of these paint bombs) When they went downstairs, Enjolras was reading the newspaper behind the dining table, with a cup of coffee and a croissant in front of him.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Who knows? Performance art." Grantaire said with a smile, "Do you want to come together?"

"No." Enjolras said cautiously, "Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"I'm used to not having breakfast," Grantaire said cheerfully. "Besides, having fun is more important than bread."

He took Gavroche into the yard. The weather was fine, the blue sky was bright and the sun was shining, it was a warm scene in late spring and early summer.They went around the back of the house—the least preserved graffiti from Éponine, and, if the Street Image people wanted to trouble him, this was the wall that was the hardest to spot.Grantaire put the plastic bucket in his hand on the ground. He was wearing a very old long-sleeved shirt today. If he got too much paint in a while, he planned to use it as a rag.He rolled up his sleeves above his elbows and took a balloon out of a plastic bucket.

"Hey, look, like this," he said to Gavroche, weighing the balloon in his hand, rounding his arms, and throwing it with all his might against the wall.The water-filled balloon exploded when it hit the wall, and the red paint inside exploded on the white wall, forming a splash circle, and then flowed down vertically.

"Wow," said Gavroche, "it's frustrating."

"Don't worry," Grantaire said, "you throw another one on top."

Gavroche did as he was told.His balloon exploded obliquely below the red area just now, and the yellow color was superimposed on the red color, creating a new halo.

"It's a little more decent," remarked Gavroche.

"Go on," Grantaire said, taking out another purple balloon and throwing it.

They quickly started throwing one after the other.Orange, blue, green, peach... splashes of color exploded on the wall, some mixed together to form new colors, some stacked on top of each other to create an unexpectedly colorful scene.Grantaire started sweating quickly in the weather.Some of the color flowed down the loose balloon to his palms and arms, and he raised his hand to wipe his face, and the color stayed on his face again.Gavroche seemed to have more colors on his body, and his pair of dirty white sneakers were covered in paint, which made them look better than before.Grantaire watched as he rolled up his sleeves a little more with his multicolored palms...

"Wait, Gavroche," Grantaire called.He was surprised to see a fist-sized bruise appear on the outside of the boy's upper arm.He walked over quickly and grabbed his wrist.

"How is this going?"

"Ah." Gavroche seemed taken aback by him.He looked down at the scar on his upper arm, then at Grantaire, "Oh. You said this? I can't remember. Maybe I accidentally bumped into the cabinet. Hey, don't grab me .”

"Bumping into a cabinet?" Grantaire said, frowning, thinking of the kid saying he'd get into fights sometimes, or that someone would "laugh" at him... "Is that something you ran into at school? If you When you're in trouble, you should tell—"

"...Look!" Gavroche yelled, throwing a balloon at Grantaire's chin.A cloud of paint exploded under Grantaire's nose, and he felt the goop run down his neck, coughing at the smell of the paint.

"...Little bastard!" He couldn't help cursing, and let go of Gavroche's hand, "cough...cough—what are you doing?"

"You're talking too much nonsense," said the kid, pointing at Grantaire and laughing. "Look at you! That's funny. Come on, don't ask me about it. It's over."

After all, he picked up another balloon and threw it towards the wall again.Grantaire coughed and shook his head—he saw that the boy looked normal, and he didn't seem to be lying: the boy didn't seem to resist school, and Eponine was not the kind of guardian who abused children.Maybe he really was overthinking.He raised his eyes while wiping his chin with his sleeve, and was thinking about whether to go back and wash his face, but found that the window connected to the living room on the wall was opened at some time, and Enjolras was leaning against the window and watching them.

"Ah." He couldn't help saying, swallowed, and walked towards the window, "How long have you been here?"

"It's been twenty minutes or so," Enjolras said.If Grantaire had dared to believe his eyes, he would have thought Enjolras was smiling.

"Good fellow," he said, leaning against the wall outside the window, "why don't you make a sound?"

"That's not necessary," said Enjolras. "I'm just surprised that the boy looks so happy... You have a way with children."

"Hey, kids. It's easy to get them excited," Grantaire said, flattered by his affirmation. "However, if you often praise me like that, I'll be a little smug."

"Please don't." Enjolras said, he seemed in such a good mood that the words seemed like a joke, "Ah. Your beard..."

He reaches for Grantaire's chin.Grantaire realized at this moment that his chin must be very funny with the paint on his chin, but he stared at Enjolras' hand and didn't intend to stop it...

"Ouch!" cried Gavroche after them.He tossed a balloon against the wall with a cheerful "pop".Enjolras withdrew his hand back.

"I guess I should take a shower," Grantaire said, shrugging.

That's why he was cleaning his beard in front of the mirror at this very moment.It's okay to wash the paint from the hair, but the beard-it's better to shave it all.He took a shower and rinsed off the foam on his chin-the face in the mirror is now only covered with a layer of light-colored stubble, and due to the forced stay away from alcohol and regular work and rest in the past week, even the bags and dark circles under the eyes seem to have subsided own.This appearance made Grantaire himself stunned: this face looked as familiar as when he was young, but it was a little too strange for him now. "Enjolras was a good influence on you"—he remembered Courfeyrac's words.Maybe.Maybe things are getting better.Looking at his face in the mirror, he seemed to catch another glimpse of the fearless, passionate days of his youth.Maybe things are getting better.

He hung the towel around his neck and walked down the stairs.It was already noon, and Eponine arrived as scheduled, and was standing on the porch talking to Enjolras.Gavroche stood next to her, still colorful.Seeing Grantaire come down the stairs, he made a face at him.Hearing the creaking of the stairs, Enjolras also raised his head.

His blue eyes shot wide.

"Grantaire!" exclaimed Éponine, "look at you! You bastard—it's almost like you were a student."

"As I said, I'm not bad at taking care of myself." Grantaire joked.As he walked downstairs, he realized that Enjolras had been staring at him for some reason, and that gaze even made him uncomfortable.He gave Enjolras a strange look, but the latter just looked at him fixedly as if the pause button had been pressed.

"Stop being complacent." Éponine said with a smile, "you can get by." She bent down and took Gavroche's hand, "I also have to thank you for throwing Gavroche into the paint bucket." Soaked. Who do you think is washing his clothes?"

"Do you believe it? I was kidnapped by Gavroche to do this." Grantaire said.

"Stop talking," Eponine said. "Come on, Grantaire. I have to take him away."

"Thank goodness you saved me," Grantaire said with a smile.

"Fuck you." Eponine said, "Thank you for helping me watch him. And you, thank you, Enjolras." She turned to the blond youth standing aside, "I will contact you later."

"What? . . . Oh. Of course," said Enjolras.As if waking up from a dream, he took that strange look away from Grantaire.

Eponine nodded.She hugged Grantaire, said goodbye briefly, and left with Gavroche.

"She will contact you later?" Grantaire closed the door and turned to Enjolras strangely, "What conspiracy are you planning?"

Enjolras looked at him—and looked away quickly.He acted like he was worried that Grantaire's smooth jaw would glue his eyes to him.

"Nothing," he said curtly.

A weekend of wonder and joy ends with a phone call Monday morning.

"Grantaire? Aren't you up yet?" Courfeyrac yelled over the receiver, "Hurry up, go to the court. Temporary pre-trial conference, application for additional witnesses in the Valjean case."

"What?" Grantaire muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"It is Enjolras. He is already in court," said Courfeyrac. "Enjolras has asked for additional witnesses."

"What?" Grantaire said, sitting up suddenly in bed.What witnesses could Enjolras have besides Jean Valjean and Cosette? "Who is the new witness?"

Courfeyrac sighed.

"That was your witness," he said, not seeming to understand what had happened. "It was Épone, Épone Thérardier."

TBC