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“Alright faggots?” called Feuilly cheerfully, his brawny arm around Bahorel’s waist and one of the boxer’s large hands shoved firmly down the back of his jeans.
Grantaire blinked awake, the redhead and the boxer swimming into view as Enjolras’ naked torso huffed beside him, still asleep.
“You’re back early,” the artist grunted blearily as Feuilly smirked and Bahorel sniggered at the sight of the two entwined men in their flat.
“Yeah. Good job too, or we’d probably have to burn those sheets rather than just wash them. You boys had some fun I see!”
Grantaire couldn’t help the grin that split his face as Enjolras snuffled quietly in his sleep, “You bet your freckly ass we did.”
“Well if you don’t mind Feuilly and I would like to have our own fun, so- ”
“Bahorel!” the ginger snapped, his face flushing.
“What? I’ve been in a cell for four nights, do you know how horny I get when I’m locked up?”
“Jesus wept,” Feuilly muttered as Bahorel groped his ass and it was Grantaire’s turn to smirk.
Bahorel murmured, “There’s always my room…”
“Yeah, alright,” Feuilly gave in to the boxer’s attentions with a not very convincing sigh, “But ’Aire, I’m serious about getting those sheets washed. You and your golden boy can do it later this morning. And if I find anything weird under the bed, I’ll- “
The rest of his threat was lost as Bahorel yanked him down the hall and into his own bedroom, slamming the door behind them.
Grantaire grinned lazily and turned his attention to Enjolras, appreciating the play of early morning sunlight across his fine bone structure, the dazzling gold it threaded through his messy hair, the way his eyes screwed up slightly as he fought to remain asleep despite his body’s slow slide back to consciousness.
A few minutes later the spell was broken and Enjolras’ eyes flickered open, “’Aire?”
“I’m here,” Grantaire soothed, running a gentle hand down the slope of Enjolras’ body from his shoulder to his hip, “Sleep well?”
“Extremely,” smiled Enjolras dopily, clearly still only half awake, “Thanks to you.”
“Anything for you, my love,” grinned back Grantaire.
A slight frown creased Enjolras’ forehead as his head cleared from sleep, “What’s that noise?”
Grantaire had been aware of the steady thumping in the background of the flat but had chosen to ignore it until this moment, “That’s, uh, Feuilly and Bahorel. Turns out they’re back home early.”
Enjolras’ frown deepened, “Okay. But that doesn’t explain the noise, what- Oh. Oh. Feuilly and Bahorel..?”
“Are ‘just friends’ in the same way that Courfeyrac and Combeferre are ‘just friends’, yeah,” explained Grantaire with a laugh, “You seriously never knew?”
“It took me six months to figure out that I liked you, do you really expect me to be paying much attention to other peoples’ love affairs?”
Grantaire’s laugh became almost hysterical as he wheezed, “Love affair! I am so calling it that from now on!”
Enjolras huffed, “Does this mean we don’t get any more alone time here?”
Grantaire’s laughter halted immediately, “Yeah, I guess so…”
“Well then, might as well make it a morning to remember,” said Enjolras with a slow, wicked smile, “I wonder what I’d have to do to make you scream so loudly that they come in to make sure you’re alright and see you all spread out underneath me?”
Grantaire gulped.
A few minutes later, he screamed.
“Hey,” Grantaire’s voice sounded grainy over the phone, and Enjolras thought again about the uselessness of his frugal boyfriend’s ancient Nokia.
“Hey?”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” Enjolras found himself saying with a dopey smile, despite having only left the house ten minutes before.
“Will I see you tonight?”
“I’m sure you will if you follow the last week’s pattern of staying in my bed all day. Did you manage to get that acrylic off the pillowcase yet?”
Grantaire made a humph noise, “No. Joly’s promised to bring round some kind of all-in-one stain remover for it.”
“I foresee that being very useful in future as the bed slowly makes the transition from place of rest to art studio,” Enjolras teased.
“It’s not like you actually use it for sleeping in anyway,” grumbled Grantaire, though Enjolras could hear the smile in his boyfriend’s voice.
“True,” conceded Enjolras lightly, “I hereby sign over the entire bedroom for you to use as you see fit, provided it remains clean enough for occasional human habitation.”
“I hope you realise this means I’m never leaving this bed again, let alone the house!” laughed Grantaire, then fell into a tense silence, still unused to being wanted, unsure of whether Enjolras would accept his words, his intentions.
“You can you know,” said Enjolras with quiet firmness, using the only tone he knew that Grantaire would not contradict, “Never leave, I mean.”
“Enjolras,” Grantaire began, exhaling slowly, “I… What do you think about me moving in with you?”
Enjolras’ grin coloured his voice as he replied, “What a brilliant idea. Seven pm, your place, we start packing tonight.”