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Grantaire’s never been big on celebrating his birthday because he hates the cake and the candles and people pretending that they care about you for propriety’s sake. He tells Joly that it’s late November and Courfeyrac that it’s early March, tells Feuilly he has leap year birthdays and Marius that he’s a Christmas child. Mostly, he sticks to dates that are really far away from whatever the current date is, because nobody remembers details like that about anyone.
He spends his birthdays alone, drinks a few more beers than he would normally to congratulate himself on getting through another year, and it’s okay, it’s not a big deal, it’s just another day.
Grantaire is completely okay with having no-one to celebrate his birthday with.
—
In April, Marius falls in love with Cosette and starts bringing her around to the meetings. She starts to hang out with the Amis, and is so sweet and genuine that everyone just warms up to her easily.
She doesn’t sit with Marius during the meetings, probably because she overheard Enjolras voicing out his concerns that Marius would be distracted by her, and more often than not ends up next to Grantaire at the back of the room, letting Grantaire sketch on her arms and palms sometimes, when everyone else is caught up with listening to Enjolras go on about the next Important Thing he wants to change. Most of the times his sketches stay unfinished because Enjolras will say something so ridiculous that Grantaire has to question him about it, but Cosette is always happy with whatever he draws on her.
He draws a lark on her shoulder late May, and she ends up asking if Grantaire would tattoo it on her.
In late June, she calls Grantaire her best friend.
In July, Grantaire gets roped into helping the rest of the Amis plan a surprise birthday party for Cosette. This is when he learns that their birthdays fall on the same day.
—
It’s not a problem, it shouldn’t be a problem, because Grantaire doesn’t celebrate his own birthday, doesn’t want anyone to celebrate his birthday for him, but he catches how Courfeyrac and Bossuet are both looking so excited trading ideas for decorations and themes, and how Feuilly and Combeferre have called dibs to baking Cosette a birthday cake, and how even Enjolras is scribbling down details and plans that everyone is shouting at him on the whiteboard they keep in the Musain for rally-planning purposes.
They all look happy to be doing this, to be planning a surprise birthday party for Cosette. No-one looks like they’re just here because they have to be, everyone is here because they like Cosette and want to make her happy.
It makes Grantaire’s chest clench tightly, because he’s never wanted to celebrate his birthday with his friends before, never thought that it could be something like this before, but he wants to now.
He stays quiet most of the planning session, answering questions when someone asks him directly (“Red velvet, she loves red velvet. Yes, that’s my favourite too. No, Courf, I’m not just saying because I happen to like it too, you’re an idiot.”) and nodding and smiling at appropriate moments.
He’s being stupid; he shouldn’t feel jealous that Cosette is getting a surprise birthday party and he isn’t, because no-one even knows when his birthday is. He is being stupid and sentimental, and it needs to stop now.
—
It doesn’t really stop.
—
He gets put on Cosette Duty. His job is to take her out and keep her occupied and unsuspicious while everyone else decorated her apartment, and bring her back when the time is right.
It’s a simple thing to do, because Cosette is lovely and fun to hang out with, and she knows what she wants to do and where she wants to go, and all Grantaire has to do is to go along with her.
She makes him take her to the art museum and they make up stories about the painting and sculptures they see, and after, Grantaire takes her to his favourite ice cream parlour and buys her ice cream.
“It’s your birthday, I get to buy you ice cream,” he says, snatching the note Cosette offers to the cashier out of her hand and stuffs it back into her back. Cosette makes a face at him but accepts her ice cream.
He lets her tell him about how her dad came to town last weekend and she’d invited Marius to dinner to meet her dad, and he listens and laughs, and it’s nice, he supposes. It’s the first birthday he’s had in years that he’s spent with someone else, and even if Cosette doesn’t know it’s his birthday, it still probably counts.
His phone chimes with a new text message a little while later, when he’s just done with his cone and Cosette is just finishing off her sundae, and he quickly reaches for his phone and reads through it.
From: Courfeyrac
Small bump. STALL.
“So,” Grantaire says. “You’re the birthday girl. Where do you want to go next?”
“Isn’t your apartment a few blocks from here?” Cosette asks. “I’ve never been to your place. Could we go?”
Grantaire scrunches his nose. “Are you sure you want to? It’s small and messy as fuck. I’m pretty sure I left a painting or two out to dry. The place will smell like paint.”
Cosette shrugs. “I’m the birthday girl,” she reminds him, and he smiles and relents.
—
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he opens the door to his apartment -he ate breakfast on the couch and he can’t remember if he put his bowl away- but it’s definitely not to see all his friends crammed into his apartment, wearing ridiculous party hats, and all yelling, “Surprise!”
Grantaire is pretty sure he squeaks.
Cosette is grinning widely next to him. “I was on Grantaire duty,” she tells him, and oh, oh, that’s why she chose to go to the art museum today, because Grantaire mentioned that it’s his favourite place in the world a few days ago when she asked. “Happy birthday!”
“How did you even know?” he manages to get out, voice a little wobbly as Jehan skips over to him to place a paper crown on his head. “I didn’t tell anyone-”
“That’s the thing!” Joly says. “Do you know how hard it was for us to find out when your birthday was?”
“So hard,” Marius answers for Grantaire.
“We tried to pick your pocket for your wallet,” Bahorel confesses. “But nobody could get near it. Bossuet almost fell down a flight of stairs trying to get it.”
Grantaire laughs. “Then how-”
“Enjolras went to the faculty information centre and pretended to be your boyfriend,” Courfeyrac says, and winks at him.
Grantaire turns his gaze to Enjolras. He’s got one of the party hats on his head, and he’s blushing furiously even as he glares at Combeferre.
“It was nothing,” Enjolras says gruffly when he catches Grantaire staring at him.
Cosette snorts and Grantaire turns to her. “It was not nothing,” she tells Grantaire in a mock whisper, still grinning widely. “Apparently he was really convincing. Courfeyrac has been teasing him about it for the better part of the week now.”
Grantaire can feel his own cheeks heat up, and when he turns to steal a glance at Enjolras, Enjolras is still flushed red.
“Cake!” Enjolras blurts out. “Combeferre and Feuilly made cake!”
—
Combeferre drops down onto the couch next to Grantaire a little while later, after they sing him the birthday song and make him blow out the candles on his cake, and says, “This was Enjolras’ idea.”
Grantaire chokes on his cake. “What?”
“He was asking if we knew when your birthday was, because he saw a sketchbook that reminded him of you, and wanted to get it for you.” Combeferre smiles at him. “Courfeyrac said March, but I was pretty sure I remembered you telling me you were born on April Fool’s, so we decided to ask around. When we found out, Enjolras called a birthday party to a vote. It was passed unanimously, not that it should be a surprise, we all love you.”
Grantaire isn’t going to cry, he isn’t going to cry because he just found out that his friends love him, he isn’t going to fucking cry.
“Grantaire? Enjolras really likes you,” Combeferre says softly, before he gets up and heads to get a beer refill.
—
The first chance he gets, Grantaire ends up in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed, just focusing on breathing for a moment.
His friends love him and Enjolras really likes him, and it’s all just a little bit much right now, because a week ago, he was still under the impression that everyone just tolerated his presence in the group because he was Joly and Bossuet’s (and more recently, Cosette’s) best friend. He laughs and it sounds a little bit manic to himself. He wonders if he’ll wake up to realise that he dreamt the whole thing.
He hears a knock on the door, and then Enjolras is opening the door and god, then Enjolras is coming into his room. He sits down next to Grantaire on Grantaire’s bed, and Grantaire wonders if now would be a good time to start hyperventilating.
“Are you okay?” Enjolras asks quietly. “Are you not enjoying the party? I thought it would be nice to do something quiet and small, but everyone else was in favour of punch and balloons and music and dancing.”
“The party is great,” Grantaire says, because it is, and also because Enjolras is starting to look like he’s chastising himself for not insisting on doing something different. “You’re all great.” He bumps their shoulders together. “Thank you.”
“I got you a gift,” Enjolras says after a short pause and hands a wrapped package to Grantaire. “It’s sort of what sparked the whole thing.”
Grantaire smiles. “Combeferre told me.”
Enjolras’ eyes dart to his quickly. “What else did Combeferre tell you?” he asks.
“Things,” Grantaire says airily, lips slowly curving up, because oh Christ, Enjolras looks nervous, Combeferre wasn’t lying to him to make him happy on his birthday at all. “Things I’d rather hear from you.”
“Oh,” Enjolras breathes out.
“Oh,” Grantaire echoes.
“Okay,” Enjolras says, and takes a deep breath. “I have feelings for you,” he says quietly, and Grantaire can’t take his eyes off Enjolras, wants to reach out to press his hand to Enjolras’ cheeks to feel just how warm they are, because Enjolras is blushing so hard right now. “A lot of feelings,” Enjolras continues quickly. “They’re a bit all over the place and it’s gotten really distracting because every time you do so much as move your fingers, I have to look over to you. And I’m not complaining! This is not me complaining. I’m not complaining at all, which is the problem, because I have no problems with being distracted by you.”
Grantaire’s grin grows with every word Enjolras is saying.
“I want to be distracted by you. You are the best kind of distraction,” Enjolras is still saying. “Not that you’re a distraction,” he corrects himself. “I mean, you are, but you’re not only a distraction, because feelings. This is so hard, Grantaire, why is this so hard?”
Grantaire’s laughter bubbles out of him, softly at first, slowly growing louder, until he has to press his face into Enjolras’ shoulder.
“Don’t laugh at me,” Enjolras says, sounding a bit put out, and oh no, that wouldn’t do.
“I’m not laughing at you,” Grantaire says, pulling back from Enjolras’ shoulder so he can look Enjolras in the eye. “I’m happy.”
Enjolras peers dubiously at him. “You are?”
“I am,” Grantaire confirms, and then presses their hands together and slowly laces their fingers. “I have a lot of distracting feelings for you too.”
“Oh,” Enjolras says, and smiles. “Oh, that’s good.”
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Grantaire says, leaning in closer until he can feel Enjolras’ breath on him.
“That’s good too,” Enjolras says, and then closes the distance between their lips.