Joly became sheepish as his friend guessed what had taken so long. Not only that but his hair was pretty much dry by the time he came out of the rest room. "To be fair, it wasn't that dirty. I just wanted to clean it up some. As a thanks for letting me use it." He said, hoping the other wouldn't guess that his cleaning was compulsory. He stretched out in the arm chair, quite comfortable now that he was clean... Only he had the strangest sensation that he had forgotten something. Oh well, it probably wasn't important. Probably. Joly looked around, noticing quite a change in the room. Particularly the floor. Had Courfeyrac cleaned while he was showering? "Courfey, you know you didn't have to clean everything, I mean I'm picky but I'm not-" Joly stopped talking right then. Okay, maybe he was very picky when it came to cleaning. But he wouldn't nit-pick. After all, Courfeyrac was doing him a favor. "Where's Grantaire?" The Pre-Med asked, looking around. Surely Grantaire culdn't be too far, for him not to make an appearance at all was typical yes, as the man was probably down at the cafe or pub or somewhere like that. But he was sure they'd be seeing him at some point throughout the night.

I'm not a Damsel in Distress, I swear.

Whilst Joly showered, Courf tried yet again to make the living room somewhere Joly could actually be. He started off by removing all the sofa and armchair cushion covers, and shoving them in the washing machine he’d bought when he was drunk and was sick on everything. He’d thought, why haven’t we got one before? But when they got their electric bill, he’d figured out why.

By the time Joly returned, though, Courf had replaced the covers, hoovered and even mopped in the kitchen. He stood by the sofa, looking pretty chuffed with himself. If Courf was anything, he was a good host - whether to a date, to a friend, or on the dreaded occasions that family pops by. He would make sure that everyone was catered to, no matter how ridiculous their needs may seem.  He beamed across at his friend, “Not long, hm?” He asked, tilting his head, “You took a over an hour, my friend. You didn’t just shower, did you? I bet you cleaned that whole bathroom, didn’t you?” He half-teased, because it was highly probable that he had in fact done that whilst Courfeyrac had stumbled around the apartment trying to make it clean - he’d probably done a much better job of it too.

"I certainly hope you'll be out there." Joly called before moving rather quickly toward the bathroom. He took a long hot shower which he found most refreshing, relishing the feeling of finally being clean. After finishing that all and scrubbing his hair almost to death he got out. Joly had of course brought his own soap, shampoo, and etcetera. But Joly wasn't done in the bathroom just yet, oh no. After brushing his teeth and washing his face. The hypochondriac began to clean up Courfeyrac and Grantaire's bathroom. Not because he found it particularly disgusting or because he wanted to be rude. No, just out of habit he began organizing their things and cleaning it up. When he finally left the restroom, clean and in some fresh clothes. well over an hour had passed. And now the bathroom sparkled like new. "See? That didn't take long at all." Joly said, completely oblivious to the time that had passed. "He put his bag on the floor by the arm chair he assumed was most clean before dusting off the seat and sitting down. "Thanks again for letting me use your water. I thought I was going to die f I went another few hours without a shower." He said, looking around, already in a much improved mood.

I'm not a Damsel in Distress, I swear.

Courfeyrac nodded and shrugged off his question, ushering him inside as he caught his breath, each one calculated and planned. He knew Joly would worry over him, but he’d be absolutely fine in a moment or two. Perhaps he should start working out… He could definitely use the exercise, especially since the little bit of cleaning he’d done elicited this sort of reaction from his clearly very weak lungs.

He laughed softly though when Joly cringed, “I’ll wash the cushion covers if you’d like. But yeah, yeah, go take a shower. No secret agenda, I promise." He offered a slight smile, before plopping himself down on the couch, “You go. I’ll be out here."

Joly glanced at Bossuet when he proposed that Joly be the prize of their game. The game that Bossuet dear would sadly lose, Joly didn't have to be a bookie to guess that one.Joly sighed and ordered himself a drink, he couldn't sit around sober while his friends used him as a prize and probably would drink until they puked. Not a pretty picture in the young Pre-Med's mind. "I'm in, but this time. How about we raise the stakes. Winner gets to kiss both losers? Hmm?" He suggested, as his beer was handed to him. He sloshed it around in the cup thoughtfully for a moment. Hopefully someone would have the mind to take Joly and Bossuet home after what ever amount of alcohol they imbibed, Joly usually endedup a bipolar mess, laughing about the stupidest things before weeping on the bar about dirty cups. He had learned that from some of his friend's harsh honesty. Likewise he was mildly concerned, what if no one was sober enough to help Bossuet after what ever horrible misfortune would befall his roommate as they always did? Joly took a deep breath. Well it wasn't like this was the first time they had a drinking contest. Joly shrugged then and took a sip of his beer.

A Cynic, A Doctor, and A Jinx Walk Into A Bar || Grantaire, Joly, & Bossuet

Bossuet grinned as he caught sight of Grantaire and wandered over, tripping and nearly knocking two other people over before he miraculously managed to catch himself. That was a surprise. He sat down on the bar stool next to Joly, and laughed. “Are you kidding Joly? Of course we’re going to have a drinking contest." He saluted Grantaire and ordered himself a beer, nudging Joly with his elbow, and succeeding in toppling off for the first of undoubtedly many times that night.

He laughed and climbed back onto his bar stool. “Joly, obviously he evened the odds. He has a higher tolerance of alcohol. This is more fair. That way we got a shot at winning." He grinned and took a sip of his beer cheerfully. “If Joly doesn’t participate…whoever of us wins gets a kiss from my fair doctor." He shrugged. “I don’t know. That just seemed like a really nice thing to win. Sorry Joly. That doesn’t have to be the thing."

The floor... right. I don't think that'd work. Especially if you have carpets... Carpets collect all sort of-...ew.

Chetta is that you?

It’s a bit early for that, don’t you think?

Sadly, Joly noticed that his friend was out of breath. And of course he jumped to conclusions. "Courfeyrac are you okay?" He asked, wondering what might have happened. Courfeyrac didn't seem like an asthmatic. Joly fidgeted, he wouldn't say anything, not until he got more proof. Not after he had diagnosed Bossuet with Mono when he just had a bad cold. "That seems like a reasonable descision. But who knows, I might have come all the way over just to sleep on your front step. Highly tempting." He snickered.

He stepped into the well, surprisingly clean, room. He looked around before walking over and putting his bag in an armchair, before pausing to cringe at what might have been done in said armchair. Maybe he should have called Combeferre and pleaded to stay with him? He was guessing that sex might have been had on every single surface in this house at some point or another. He took a deep breathe, cursing whatever city council official decided that his apartment complex needed work done. "I'm gonna use your bathroom real quick." He said, grabbing his bag and bringing it with him. "While I'm at it, I can take a shower yeah? Unless you're hoarding all the water for some secret agenda." He said, pointing toward the restroom.

I'm not a Damsel in Distress, I swear.

Courfeyrac glanced briefly around at the mess in the apartment, including empty glasses and bottles, a full ashtray, and empty fast-food packets. Joly would simply hate him if he made him stay in this shit, so he worked on cleaning it up. He figured he had time, anyway.

Reluctantly, he collected a trash bag, and began shoving everything that could go into it inside, huffing as he scurried around the apartment. Once he’d cleared the shared living space, he realised that he hadn’t cleaned his own room, where Joly would be sleeping and undoubtedly complaining if he left it in that state. For the sake of Courf’s own sanity and the fact that he hated Joly ranting on about various diseases (no matter how funny it was), he began tidying his own room - he even changed his sheets for him.

Soon, there was a knock at the door. Courf finished up by shoving the trash bag in the trash can, and then ran to the door. He was panting as he opened the door, but tried to conceal it with a charming smile, “Hey. Do-.. Do you wanna com- come in?" He breathed, opening the door wider for him.

It's a bit early for that, don't you think?

Chetta is that you?

I couldn’t… I mean, leave Bossuet there alone? He’d fall down the stairs and tumble in front of a bus without me.

I couldn't... I mean, leave Bossuet there alone? He'd fall down the stairs and tumble in front of a bus without me.

Chetta is that you?

Oh it’s… It’s no problem.

I’m good, really good so far. Turns out that flu was just me being allergic to Mme. Dejardin’s cat.

Oh it's... It's no problem.

I'm good, really good so far. Turns out that flu was just me being allergic to Mme. Dejardin's cat.

Chetta is that you?

If it is, I got you this. Flower?

Chetta is that you?

If it is, I got you this. Flower?

"Oka-" Courfeyrac hung up before Joly could say goodbye. Joly lowered the phone and sighed. This was going to be an interesting night, if Joly even lasted that long. He didn't want to know the mess he'd encounter staying a the shared place of Courfeyac and Grantaire. Both not especially known for being the most consciously cleanly. Convincing himself that this was all necessary, as at this moment his toilet didn't even work. Joly began to pack. When he arrived at Courfeyrac's some twenty-seven minutes later, he was a bit of a mess. His hair disheveled from the continuous anxiety driven hair-messing and of course, he hadn't had water to take a shower before heading over. Which wasn't to much of a problem for other people, who normally didn't shower daily in pursuit of godliness. But for Joly it just made him look uncomfortable in his own skin. He had the face of someone who had to dig through a dumpster looking for his cellphone... A look he only knew from Bossuet(who often found himself in those situations). Joly swallowed hard and knocked on the door, bracing himself some sort of live-in trash bin. But when the door opened it wasn't as bad as he though. Well, realistically nothing could be as bad as he thought other than a land-fill. "Hey Courfeyrac!" He said, offering the other a smile. He had brought the ear plugs, just the same.

I'm not a Damsel in Distress, I swear.

Courfeyrac burst into hysterics at the silence, knowing that he must’ve terrified poor Joly, but it was still absolutely hilarious. “Sorry," he muttered, through his laughter,  before finally calming down as he began to talk again.

"Oh- no, no, Grantaire’s out… I think." He frowned a little, “Uh, either that or he’s passed out in his room. But either way… No, we’re not gunna be doing anything like that with you in the house, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I’ll see you soon, yeah?" He asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before hanging up and shoving his phone back into the pockets of his jeans.

Joly wasn't surprised when he saw Grantaire waving over he and Bossuet the moment they walked in. He gave a half-hearted shrug and smiled dragging his rather unlucky friend along by the hand. "Grantaire, haven't seen you in a while... that I can remember." He said, taking a seat on a bar stool he found suitably clean. "A drinking contest? I don't think that's best..." He said, glancing over to Bossuet, trying to convey his worry. Bossuet challenged to any sort of competition was a bad idea. Especially drinking, the man would get alcohol poisoning just when his friends were too drunk to help. Joly, as the person who usually had to help poor Bossuet after his misfortune struck, wasn't at all inclined to tempt fate if he could help it. "Couldn't we just drink without... you know... making a contest? Besides, you're already plastered."

A Cynic, A Doctor, and A Jinx Walk Into A Bar || Grantaire, Joly, & Bossuet

The cynic was always drunk before he even entered the bar. He was in a permanent state of intoxication, in fact, so the fact that he already had a drink in hand when the others arrived was no surprise to anyone. He’d missed his drinking buddies. School had them all so wrapped up that no one had had time to hang out, and Grantaire had so badly needed a distraction that he refused to let them say no this time. He needed his friends tonight, to keep him away from that sultry mistress called heroin.

When Bossuet and Joly walked in, Grantaire leaned back a little, throwing his arms into the air. He was so thrilled to see people who had no reason to be upset with him. “Bossssssssssuet! Jolyyyy!" he called out, his tongue getting caught on the ‘s’ sound in Bossuet’s name. Yeah, he was already a little bit gone.

When the two joined him at the bar he leaned forward, placing his hand firmly on the surface. Clearly, he had something important to say. “M’kay, bastards, here’s the deal— we haven’t seen each other in too long. We’re celebrating this reunion… with a drinking contest," he stated, grinning widely. “Whoever’s left standing gets… something…" He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.

There was an awkward silence on the end of the phone as poor Joly tried to compute what was just said on a level that wouldn't mentally scar him. But it was too late for that. He took a deep breath and scratched behind his head before finally speaking. "...Okay. Bed it is. Let me get some stuff together and I'll be over in... yeah about that time." He said, shouldering the phone as he went to empty his school bag so he could put some necessities in there. "I don't need to bring anything specific do I? No noise-cancelling head phones or the like?"

I'm not a Damsel in Distress, I swear.

Joly jumped as his phone rang, he had been expecting a text not the blaring music from his phone. He squeaks and fumbled it with his phone before finally answering it, he breathed a sigh of relief when it was Courfeyrac and not one of the long forgotten contacts in his phone. “Really? I mean, I’d love that, but you don’t have too… And please, you’re doing me a favor, I won’t steal your bed."

Joly jumped as his phone rang, he had been expecting a text not the blaring music from his phone. He squeaks and fumbled it with his phone before finally answering it, he breathed a sigh of relief when it was Courfeyrac and not one of the long forgotten contacts in his phone. "Really? I mean, I'd love that, but you don't have too... And please, you're doing me a favor, I won't steal your bed."

I'm not a Damsel in Distress, I swear.

Courfeyrac burst into laughter as he received one of the texts of presumably every contact Joly had, and shook his head. He dialed his friend’s number, grinning to himself as he pressed the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. Joly was known as the hypochondriac of the group, and for good reason too! He couldn’t go a day without a shower - heaven forbid! And for Courf, it was far too funny.

"Hi, Joly. Got your text," he held in his sniggers as he spoke, grinning to himself, “Yeah you can come stay with us. You can have my bed and I’ll stay on the couch."

I'm not a Damsel in Distress, I swear.

It had been 37 hours and 19 minutes since Joly’s water was turned off. Apparently someone from Paris city council had sent everyone in the building a letter about how they needed to to fix God-knows-what in the sewers beneath the apartment complex and that the water would be turned off in order to safely complete the project. Joly hadn’t received such a letter, or if he had it was in the box of mail he had to burn because the swarm of beetles that had taken residence in the cool dark expanse of his mail box. Thinking about it, it was probably that. But they were beetles, who knows what sort of filth they had accumulated and were waiting to unload upon him?!… So he had missed the notice. This meant Joly had no working shower, no running water to wash dishes, let alone his hands… and none of his neighbors could allow them to use theirs, but that was obvious, seeing as there water was turned off too. Joly paced the hallway in his little flat restlessly. He felt unclean and rather hopeless. He could text some of the Amis, see if any of them were kind enough to take him in. At least for a night or so. But was that asking too much? Joly fidgeted with his phone, nibbling his nails before realizing what he was doing and stopping immediately. Okay, how hard could it be? Just send out a few texts to some of his friends and see who replied. Taking a deep breath, Joly did just that. His mass text read something along the lines of. “Hey guys, my water was shut off, can I stay the night at anyone’s? Please?"

Unless you want to catch this... what ever it is. I'd suggest so, yeah.

I don't think I can go out...

Wait, Bossuet and his-... Of course. Well, he hasn't told me anything about his toe yet, but I'll go find him. And yeah, I think I have the pneumonia.

I don't think I can go out...

Yeah... I'm house-bound. In fact I shouldn't even come in contact with you.

I don't think I can go out...