Secret dating Enjoltaire
I randomly wrote this little thing and remembered that my tumblr was shamefully dry of content lately, so here’s a little something! Also, I love writing drunk Enjolras, it’s so much fun. Enjoy!
...
Trouble, in Enjolras’s book, has always started with Courfeyrac. And this was exactly the case when he found himself falling into the sofa in Joly, Bossuet and Grantaire’s flat, uncharacteristically drunk on a Tuesday afternoon, which was probably the result of the single apple he had for lunch and the summer heat. And Courfeyrac’s damn champagne, of course.
And trouble it was, because under normal circumstances he would very much mind landing with his nose in Grantaire’s shoulder when all their friends were in the room. But given his freshly acquired alcohol courage and the realisation that Grantaire’s chest made a just as comfortable pillow as it did when there was only the two of them there, he didn’t mind it at all.
“You fine?” Grantaire pulled up one eyebrow as he looked down at him from where he was napping on his back with three pillows stuffed under his head.
“The word’s spinning” Enjolras whispered, which earned him a little chuckle from Grantaire, probably only audible to him, since he was literally pressed against his side.
“Of all the people who could have been persuaded by Courfeyrac into drinking in the middle of the day” Grantaire started as he casually moved his body to let Enjolras sink deeper into the sofa and be able to wrap his left arm around him. “I wouldn’t have bet on you.”
“I’m not the only one he persuaded” Enjolras answered, burying his face into Grantaire’s neck.
“Oh oh, man, slow down!” Grantaire pushed him away half-heartedly. “I thought you wanted this to be a secret.”
“It is a secret. I’m being sneaky.”
“No, you aren’t” Grantaire laughed. “You are just drunk.”
“How are you not drunk anyway?” Enjolras grumbled instead of admitting that he had a hard time seeing the connection between Grantaire’s two statement.
“Well, I only played one round of train. Hardly even felt anything.”
“I was trying to prove that Courfeyrac was cheating. Besides, I’m not the only one” Enjolras pushed himself up on one elbow to see most of his friends still scattered around Courfeyrac on the living room floor. Though, to be precise, most of them had long since quit to complete the train Courfeyrac had laid out.
Jehan was curled up on the carpet like a cat, dosing under a patch of light somehow making its way into the dark ally and through the dirty windows. Joly and Musichetta were both laying on Bossuet, while he ran his fingers lazily through Chetta’s hair. Marius was on his back, holding his phone high up in the air, possibly texting Cosette, possibly only able to type random letters after one another in the state he was in. Feuilly was leaning against the leg of the sofa Grantaire and Enjolras was laying on, sleeping with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring slightly. Bahorel was laying on his side and watched the last remaining and very determined player, Combeferre, shouting more and more aggressively as Courfeyrac continued to turn the cards for him.
“Higher! Lower! Lower! No way! Courf, just admit it, you are cheating somehow. The chances of that being lower…”
“Were not zero” Courfeyrac added with a wicked smile. “Do your maths, Combeferre!”
“Okay, one more time!” Combeferre clapped his hands together rather forcefully.
“Well, okay, but I’m waiting” the other boy pulled up an eyebrow.
“For what? Oh, right” Combeferre lifted the – by now surely warm – bottle of champagne from the floor and took a swing.
“Courf” Grantaire grunted from next to Enjolras. “That train should arrive at the station soon, it isn’t coming from bloody England” he advised on a voice, sober enough for Courfeyrac to shrug and reshuffle the cards.
“Fine, I’m sure Ferre will be able to get it there next time.”
“Wow, you are being responsible” Enjolras looked at the boy next to him with dreamy eyes. “I like it.”
“Should be drunk more often, forces me to step up a bit” Grantaire smiled back at him affectionately. “Besides, I like drunk you” he added.
“Higher. Yes, I did it!” Combeferre’s yell broke through the apartment, startling Marius who promptly dropped his phone on his face.
“Well, it was lovely playing with you gentlemen” Courfeyrac stood up, bones cracking. “And lady” he added as an answer to Musichetta’s grunt. “What time is it? Only four? We should play something else. R, come here!”
“On my way” Grantaire grinned and lightly slapped Enjolras’s butt as he got to his feet. “What? I can be sneaky too” he leant back to whisper with a wink, before he moved away to talk to Courfeyrac. Enjolras’s only response was rolling to his side with a groan and burying his head into one of the pillows to hide his blush.
