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As he stood in the front of his house, just a small bit freezing to death, Enjolras promised himself to never attempt cooking again.
Ever.
He’d rather die, or order takeout for the rest of his life.
The thing was, it had actually all started out okay.
Okay if he was honest it really hadn’t.
His parents had completely cut him off back in mid-November, something he could have foreseen, but still wasn’t really pleased about. On top of it, Courfeyrac and Combeferre had to actually go home for Christmas, what had left him alone in their flat. And being alone was something Enjolras neither was used to nor liked.
Now he wasn’t one to sulk, so he had decided to at least attempt at making himself something festive to eat. Courfeyyrac had pestered him about keeping up the spirit, despite all the shit around him. So he had done like his mother had at home, getting started in the evening.
Who knew how difficult cooking something festive could be.
In the end, this had landed him on the sidewalk at 10 pm, the night before Christmas, with the other tenants looking at him murderous.
Merry Christmas.
The firemen cleared the building after about an hour and the other people started to go back up to their flats. Just as Enjolras wanted to cross the threshold to his flat, somebody grabbed him by his arm.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t go back in there.”, a black-haired man told him with a serious expression. Startled Enjolras just blinked. “What do you mean I can’t get in there? That’s my flat.”
“Yeah I know,”, the other man lay his hand on Enjolras’ arm “But the kitchen burned out and until somebody has cleared it, we can’t let you live there. It will take until after Christmas, I am afraid.” He shrugged a bit helplessly. Enjolras couldn't make out much of his face, but he could see in the man's blue eyes that he looked truly sorry.
Enjolras wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or straight up start crying. Of course, this would happen. Fuck.
“Where am I supposed to stay? My friends are out of the city, for the holidays.”, he grumbled. Honestly, he was slowly getting pissed. As if having to spend the holidays by himself hadn’t been bad enough, now he didn’t even have a place to stay.
“Could you go back to your parents or something?”, the man asked in a tired voice. He tried unsuccessfully to rub away a smudge of grime from his forehead only spreading it all over it, up to the black curls.
“No, I can’t.”, Enjolras snapped regretting it immediately. “I’m sorry, it just… It was a long day I guess.” He sighed and closed his eyes.
Heavy footsteps came up “Grantaire get your ass downstairs and stop flirting with the cute arsonist!”
The other man flinched. “Ok, I guess I've got to go. But I am off my shift in half an hour. A friend of mine works at a hotel, I can help you find a place for the night, okay? Just wait here and don’t enter your flat!” And with that he hurried off, leaving behind a confused and tired Enjolras. He sat down, leaning against the doorframe barely withstanding the urge to slam his head against the wall. Did this fireman really think he was cute? A cute arsonist.
That’s not even the worst reputation he has ever had.
*
True enough about 40 minutes later Enjolras heard somebody approach him in the dimly lit hallway. “Shit aren’t you freezing?”, the man asked. He looked a lot less rugged now, out of his work gear and apparently freshly showered. Without the grime smeared all over his face, Enjolras had to admit that the man was really handsome. The black curls were no longer plastered against if forehead and he just now noticed the fashionable stubble.
“Dude are you okay?”, he was now standing in front of Enjolras, who practically had to shake him out of his stupor. “Yeah, I’m just tired I guess.”
“Yeah about that, I guess I have another bad news for you.”, Grantaire looked at him sheepishly.
Ah for fuck's sake. Enjolras only groaned in response.
"What now?"
"Well, apparently the airport had to cancel a lot of flights, because of the snow, and now basically every hotel n the city is completely booked out. I asked Feuilly - my friend - if they had any spare room, but sadly they don't. Look, if it weren't so sad I would crack jokes about you seem to have the absolute worst luck ever, like how much did you piss Santa off this year?" And then Grantaire honest to god smirked at him, Enjolras only glared back.
"Ah come on, you should take that with a bit of humor."
"Humor... Really?", Enjolras only pointed at the charred remains of his kitchen interior.
"Yeah okay, you got a point, but have actually come here to make you an offer. I am usually not that charitable, but you seemed to have a really shitty time, so if you'd like to, you could spend Christmas with me and my flatmate?"
Enjolras let his gaze wander between the man and the flat he could very much not get back to. "Yeah thanks, that would be amazing."
"Okay great, I guess you could go in to pack some stuff and then we're good to go." The man held out his hand and Enjolras took it, pulling himself up.
"I'm Enjolras."
"Grantaire." They smiled at each other before Enjolras remembered what he was supposed to do and he scrambled back to his feet. Luckily it was mostly the area around the stove that had been ruined, his as well Combferre's and Courfeyrac's rooms were fortunately unaffected. Grantaire watched him pack, eyeing their living room with great interest, letting out an appreciative whistle, when he came across their bookshelf.
"Shit, I am glad you didn't start your little experiment in here, that's like every important philosopher." Enjolras smiled to himself, some of those books were really old editions he had stolen from his home when he had visited the last time. They were much more acknowledged here.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Grantaire roam the room, with a curious expression.
When he finished packing he went back to Grantaire, who was flipping through an old edition of Hobbes´s "Leviathan".
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah."
"So tell me, what did you even try to cook?"
"Ah shut up!"
*
Grantaire's flat, as it turned out, was only a fifteen-minute walk away from his own and soon they were standing in a dark hallway. Grantaire took his jacket and motioned him to go through to the living room. "You can crash on the sofa, it's quite comfortable.", he said from where he was trying to put their coats on an overloaded coatrack.
The curtains weren't pulled shut and in the dim light Enjorlas could make out a small figure lying under a bunch of blankets.
Grantaire stepped behind him and snorted at the view and whispered: "Or I guess somebody else had the same idea. I am sorry, that's my flatmate's little brother. He usually never shows up unannounced. Come on you can crash in my room."
He followed Grantaire to a room, that was filled to the brink with things. There were books on every surface as well as paint, sports gear. It was all cluttered, without seeming too messy.
"Watch out, shit I am sorry, I didn't know I would have someone over, so there's paint everywhere."
When Enjolras hesitated, trying to figure out how to not knock over anything. Grantaire grabbed his hand and led him through the chaos to a large bed. Where he sat down. Grantaire let himself fall back onto the sheets, seemingly tired.
"Ugh okay, I am sorry,", he said again. "I guess something at home went shit. Well, I guess you can relate.", he shrugged. "It's fine, really. It's more than enough that you even let me sleep here." Enjolras retorted. He was more than glad, that he didn't have to sleep in the hallway in front of his flat.
"Look, you take the bed, I'll make some space on the floor and it's all fine."
"No, you definitely don't have to. You already saved my flat today and you look dead on your feet. I'll take the floor."
"Believe me, you don't look much better. Ok, you know what I am way too tired to argue, or for that instance to clear my fucking floor. If you don't have a problem with it, how about we share?"
"Yeah, that's fine." It was more than fine with Enjolras. He would probably have been able to fall asleep on top of all the stuff on the floor, but after everything that day, he was more than glad to have a bed to sleep in.
*
"Waaaake up you heathen, it's Christmas!"
Whoever said, that Christmas was supposed to be a peaceful holiday has never ever lived with a ten-year-old. Said ten-year-old seemed to have emerged from his quarter on the sofa in the early morning and decided to jump Grantaire.
Enjolras was awakened with the feeling of an elbow in his face and an "R, who the fuck is this?" thrown at him. A female voice, most likely the flatmate, shouted a "Watch your fucking language young man!", from the next room.
He groaned as yesterday's incidents came back into his mind. And then he noticed that he had apparently snuggled up to Grantaire. Oh great.
Said man didn't dignify the boy with an answer only grunted and tried to shoo him away. But the kid had sat down on the end of the bed.
"God, why do I even keep up with him?", Grantaire asked trying to hide his face in the pillows. Hadn't even made an attempt to bring space between them. He just turned around with a crooked smile. "Good morning. And Merry Christmas I guess."
"Merry Christmas." He wanted to go back to sleep, Christmas be damned.
"I give you five more seconds, or I will take away your sheets and I don't give a damn if you're wearing clothes!"
Well, the demon child had spoken.
*
The demon child, who had introduced himself as Gavroche, seemed to not be the only person in this household to be in an excited holiday spirit. When Enjolras emerged from the bathroom after a much-needed shower, he was faced with a collection of the most hideous decorations he had ever seen. Tinsel was thrown over basically anything, mostly over a small and askew Christmas. Fairy lights were strung over any place that lacked tinsel. Still, it felt cozier than the perfectly color-coordinated decorations in red and gold his parents had set up every year.
A woman with dark brown hair and a slightly murderous expression stood next to the stove in the kitchen gesticulating animatedly with a wooden spoon. "I am awake since six! Since six, not because Gavroche woke me up, but because there is so much food. Why do we need so much food?"
Grantaire only nodded, not daring to interrupt her rant.
Enjolras cleared his throat and the two of them spun around.
"That's him?", the woman asked with a smug grin on her face. She thrust the spoon into Grantaire's hand and walked over to Enjolras.
"Grantaire my dear, I think you breathed in a bit too much smoke last night. I don't think he is "unearthly hot", not with that morning hair."
Grantiare groaned while Enjolras' hands involuntarily flew up to his head. He was sure he had checked the state of his hair when he had emerged the shower.
"And definitely not without a Christmas sweater!",
She continued without missing a beat. The smile on her face grew a bit more wolfish than before, as she held out her hand.
"I am Éponine."
They shook hands and then she slapped Grantaire on the back.
"Come on put on your jumper and look if you can find one of your old ones. I know you keep them. If I have to take part in this tradition, you all have."
Grantaire trailed off, followed by an excited Gavroche babbling about pompoms as noses, but not without whispering a "Sorry." to Enjolras.
That left him with Éponine in the kitchen.
"You better channel all your Christmas spirit today blondie.", the mood in her voice had changed as soon as Grantaire had left the room. He only nodded in response. She definitely intimidated him. "Good, because my little brother had a shitty year and there is no way I let an idiot ruin today."
Ah, that explained the overexcitement. He nodded again, no way would he want to ruin a kids holiday.
Grantaire came back wearing a bright orange knitted monstrosity, with snowmen out of pompoms. When Enjolras couldn't help but laugh at the sight, he only shoved another lump of wool into his hands. "You're not going to look much better."
And well. When Enjolras was dressed he would have given anything to get the orange one. As he stepped back into the kitchen Éponine basically lost it at the sight of him.
"Ah shit, I have totally forgotten about that one when did you have this? The first year of uni?"
The bright green sweater was decorated with mating reindeer, about 3kg of sequins and small bobbles on the collar. But on the bright side, it was very comfortable.
And when Éponine took off her apron to show the blue sweater with pink glittering and naked angels, he immediately felt much better.
"Can I help you with anything?", he asked after they had had coffee, while Gavroche had peeled the potatoes.
"Uhm", Grantaire and Éponine answered in perfect synchronicity.
"No offense, but as far as I can recall you burned down your kitchen in an attempt to cook. Leading to this dear," she patted Grantaire on the head, "complaining about having to actually do something on the day before Christmas, just because, I quote 'some goddamn idiot is not able to cook fucking noodle water'."
She winked at him, while Grantaire rolled his eyes.
"But don't worry, after he had seen you, he was so eager to help you. What did you say again? Something about gra.."
"Yeah, that's enough. Go back to cooking you terrible, terrible woman." Grantaire was blushing excessively and Enjolras had to bite down a laugh.
"Ah, I really wanted to hear what she had to tell me, Grantaire."
"Oh god, they are ganging up on me to embarrass me. I should have left you in that hallway."
*
In the end, Éponine sent him off to set the table. When Grantaire had finished the side dishes the two of them took place on the sofa since their presence was not appreciated anymore. Five minutes later Gavroche was also thrown out of the kitchen, but he just wandered off to Grantaire's room, muttering something about watercolors.
Soft Christmas music filled the room, something about New York, Enjorlas didn't really pay attention. They two settled into an easy conversation. He learned that Grantaire wasn't even a full-time firefighter in the first place. Actually, he was part of a volunteer fire brigade, while he studied Arts at University. He and Éponine had been friends since their childhood and he could never imagine a life without her. And he was smart, very very smart and oh so witty.
At some point, he had mentioned the stacks of books in Enjolras flat and he had explained that he studied Political Science with Minors in History and Philosophy.
In retrospect Enjolras couldn't remember who had mentioned Hannah Arendt at first, just that, when Éponine shouted from the kitchen, that the food was ready, they had made a travel through roughly 2000 years of philosophy. And that they hadn't really agreed on anything. And also that Grantaire's eyes had been lighting up, whenever he had gotten especially agitated and frustrated with Enjolras point of view. It had been intriguing, but interesting. Enjolras had seldom seen somebody so literate on so many different philosophers, without being a total dick about it.
And he was pretty sure, nobody should be allowed to be that attractive when arguing about Plato. Nobody.
*
Dinner went without a hitch, they continued their bickering, although it was a bit more toned down. When the dished were cleared Gavroche ran over to the ugly Christmas tree and started to unpack the gifts under it, while the three adults watched with delight. Enjolras had seldom seen a kid this excited and happy.
Grantaire elbowed him, leaning in close. "Aw, you are getting all starry-eyed. Remember your own childhood?", he murmured. Enjolras also leaned closer, what was absolutely unnecessary, but nobody needed to know that. "Nah, it was much more formal at my home and I guess to much joy isn't formal behavior." He shrugged and Grantaire put a hand on his shoulder. They stayed like that, very close, both looking at Gavroche as he unpacked another gift.
*
The afternoon was spent laying on the sofa watching one cheesy movie after the other and Enjolras felt truly at home. It was weird, how comfortable he felt around those two people he hadn't even known 24 hours ago. They made him feel welcomed. Hopefully, they could stay in contact, even after that day. Éponine had taken it upon herself to narrate all the stupid romantic subplot and all the ridiculous scenes in a perfect batman-voice.
After the first movie, her throat was sore and Grantaire and Enjolras were bending over from laughter. They had moved closer to each other as the movie had gone on and were now more or less cuddling. Not that they really cared.
It felt good, Enjolras decided, so who was he to complain.
*
Éponine sent Gavroche to bed at some time around 8 pm and then she and Grantaire exchanged presents. Somehow Éponine had managed to disguise both of her presents for Grantaire in packages for sex toys, what made Grantaire go very pale at first. He was more than happy, when he discovered, that it was, in fact, a new set of brushes and not... whatever had been depicted on the box.
"I hope you don't feel too left out.", Éponine said to Enjorlas once they had been finished. He only snorted in response.
"It's more than okay, you didn't know I would invade your home, for the day. I am still very thankful for that. If anything I should get you something. I mean, I could offer you disgustingly expensive red wine?", he shrugged.
He had a whole collection at home, ordered long ago when he had still thought he would go home for Christmas. Apparently, that had been the right thing to say, because after a short run to his apartment the three of them filled the first glasses with it.
"Damn that shit is fucking expensive, I guess that like half of our monthly rent in a bottle.", Grantaire said after a look at the label. "Yeah but believe me it tastes like shit."
"Oh god, I'm going to drink your glass, too, you heathen!"
*
Two hours later the three of them were through the first two bottles and nowhere near to being finished for tonight when Enjolras' phone announced a text from Jehan.
"Huh,", he said after reading it. "A friend of mine is coming home earlier, so I can actually go to his place tomorrow." He barely missed, how Grantaire lost his smile for a second. "Aww no!", Éponine cried, pulling on Enjolras curls. "I don't want you to leave, you are entertaining and you bring expensive wine. R you gotta keep him!"
With that, she leaped up and ran into the direction of her room without another word.
"Yeah I am sorry, but you heard her, you can never leave. This is some Hotel California shit here. No way out.", he smirked and Enjolras only rolled his eyes.
"I actually hope we can see each other again, even if I have to leave tomorrow."
At the sight of Grantaire's broad smile, Enjolras felt heat spread over his face and he was pretty sure it wasn't from the amount of alcohol he had drunk.
"I really hope so too. Never have I met somebody, who is so smart and still managed to almost burn down a whole apartment complex." At his wink, Enjorlas just threw a pillow in at Grantaire's face.
"It wasn't that bad."
"Maybe not, but you still didn't tell me what you even tried to make."
"A man's gotta keep his secrets."
They just grinned at each other quite stupidly. He could blame it on the alcohol.
"For god's sake just kiss already and go on a date!", Éponine was standing above them shaking her head. In her hand, she had a mistletoe, which she held over their heads with a triumphant smile. "Kiss now, or I will seriously never let you leave." Enjolras could only laugh, well until Grantaire touched his cheek lightly.
"May I?", he asked his voice slightly wavering.
As a response, Enjolras only leaped forwards and pecked him on the lips, before he grabbed the mistletoe and threw it at Éponine's head laughing.