Jun 24, 2015
e/R, sleepy morning kisses!
Summer wakes them both up early, like just because it’s getting warm outside the world forgets all standards of decency and the codes of acceptable morning hours. Five am does not an acceptable hour make, and, by the way Enjolras is grumbling into his pillow, Grantaire isn’t the only one to think so.
“Morning,” Grantaire manages, more sound than word, from where his own face is smushed between his balled-up pillow and Enjolras’s. “I think?”
Enjolras makes a non-verbal noise of complaint and reaches out for Grantaire. Grantaire rolls over easily and they meet in a sleepy press of mouths, dry-lipped and still warm from sleep, and from the sun washing over them through the thin curtains.
