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“Your elbows are so pointy, will you-”
“There’s nowhere else for me to put them, stop- Jesus! Your feet are freezing, get away!”
“Grantaire, stay still, you’re going to push me out of the bed.” Enjolras caught himself by slamming his foot on the floor.
“Why the hell are you in my bed, again?”
“Everywhere else is full. There’s no beds or sofas left.” Enjolras pushed himself back into the single bed, pushing Grantaire back against the wall. He stared resolutely up at the ceiling.
“What, so you couldn’t sleep on the floor? Like a normal student at a house party? Because you should know, climbing into a guy’s bed at a house party is usually a prelude to a night we’ll both probably regret.” Grantaire lay on his side, his stomach against Enjolras’ side, and though it was mostly dark, Enjolras knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face, and that one of his eyebrows was probably halfway up his forehead.
“I do not wish to sleep with you.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Grantaire shrugged. “Seriously, though, this is a single bed. Fuck off. Go sleep in the bath.”
“Bahorel is in the bath.” Enjolras usually slept on his side. Laying on his back was already making him uncomfortable. And Grantaire was still way too close. “Can you not move at all?” he asked, exasperated.
“I’m pressed up against the wall. Turn the fuck over, you’re taking up more room on your back.” Enjolras huffed. Turning over presented a dilemma. Either he’d be looking directly at him - and though he didn’t want to sleep with Grantaire, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be tempted to kiss him, damn stupid crush - or they’d be practically spooning - and he didn’t think he’d be able to take cuddling Grantaire in his bed for a whole night.
“Um,” Enjolras replied eloquently.
“Shit, Ange, fucking roll over,” Grantaire grumbled, pushing at his hip. Enjolras followed his lead and turned away from him, curling his legs and tucking his arm beneath his head. “How much did you drink?”
“Not that much,” Enjolras muttered back, entirely too focused on the fact that Grantaire’s hip hadn’t moved from his hip. And that they were pressed together from shoulders to toe.
“Yeah, right.” Enjolras shifted, and Grantaire yelped right in his ear. He shot upright.
“What?!”
“Your feet, Enjolras, like fucking ice! Piss off, seriously.” Enjolras was taken aback by his sudden anger, and it must have showed, because Grantaire softened, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Piss off until you get some socks. Then you can come back. Top drawer on the left,” he said, pointing. There was something incomprehensible to Enjolras in Grantaire’s expression for half a second, before he lay back down, closing his eyes again.
Quickly, Enjolras hopped over to the drawer and grabbed the first pair of socks he could find, pulling them on quickly. Now he’d been in the bed, he realised what a furnace Grantaire was, and outside was unbearably cold. He practically shot back beneath the covers and pressed his back up against Grantaire’s front, shivering.
“Alright, fuck, d’you want to lay a little closer?” Grantaire mumbled, but there was no malice in his voice as it curled around his ear, and he casually lay an arm over Enjolras’ waist. “Comfortable now?”
“Yes. Shush. Go to sleep.”
“You get in my fucking bed and you’re telling me to go to sleep?”
“You were asleep earlier.”
“Then you woke me up,” Grantaire mumbled, and if Enjolras wasn’t tipsy and tired, he’d have noticed the extra emphasis on ‘you’. As it was, he didn’t.
After that, Grantaire was quiet enough for long enough that he thought he’d fallen asleep. The arm on his side seemed to grow heavier, and the breaths he could feel against the back of his neck seemed even and slow. But eventually, Grantaire sighed.
“Relax,” Grantaire mumbled. “You’re all tense, it’s… I can’t sleep.”
“Sorry,” Enjolras said quietly.
“Though you don’t exactly do relaxed, do you?” He huffed a laugh against the back of Enjolras’ neck, and Enjolras found himself smiling slightly in return.
“Be quiet, I’m trying to sleep,” he chastised.
“That’s better,” Grantaire mumbled. He wriggled in the bed, getting himself more comfortable, and Enjolras felt himself move closer, falling into the dip Grantaire had made in the centre of the mattress. One of Grantaire’s shins had pressed between his legs. Enjolras couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable. He even managed to fall asleep before Grantaire.
~
When he woke, there were voices. One was quiet and gruff, and right beside his ear. The other was loud and obnoxious, and coming from the doorway of the room. It took him a few moments to catch up with actually hearing the conversation they were having.
“Sleep well?” asked the louder one.
“Fuck off, Courfeyrac,” replied the quieter one, whom Enjolras belatedly realised was Grantaire.
“So he finally plucked up the balls and social skills to tell you he’s been mad for you for weeks? Gotta say, thought he’d take longer-”
“Wait, what?” Grantaire replied, his voice no longer as quiet and pleasing, and as he sat up, Enjolras actually realised what Courfeyrac had just said. His stomach fell into the mattress and his face burned. “He what?” Grantaire repeated. Courfeyrac started stammering apologies, and from down the hallway, Enjolras heard someone else chastising him for being a massive idiot - Feuilly, probably.
“I’m so fucking sorry, I thought he’d said something, you’re sharing a bed, what else-”
“Go away, Courfeyrac,” Enjolras said flatly. He didn’t open his eyes, but he did hear a scuffle in the doorway and more voices calling him an idiot as they dragged him away. It was then he realised he’d shown his hand, and made it obvious he’d been awake. “I can explain.”
“Yes, please,” Grantaire said.
“I-” Enjolras trailed off. He avoided moving, though he knew Grantaire was sat up enough that he could see his face. “Actually Courfeyrac had it pretty spot on,” he mumbled, pulling at a thread on Grantaire’s pillow.
“Oh… That’s um…” Grantaire started to move, and for an awful moment Enjolras thought he was going to get out of the bed and tell Enjolras he was uncomfortable, or something equally as similar and rubbish. But instead, he lay back down. Enjolras daren’t move. Grantaire’s arm moved over him, but instead of being casual, like it had been last night, Grantaire’s hand splayed over his chest, and he pulled him in closer. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, that’s…” Enjolras lay his hand over Grantaire’s, and his fingers tightened in his t-shirt. “Yes.” A grin slowly spread over his lips, and he could feel Grantaire smiling as well, his face pressed into the back of his shoulder.
“Good,” he said, muffled. “So. Mad for me?” Enjolras groaned.
“I’m gonna kill him,” he muttered, and Grantaire laughed.
“Don’t. I like him. And if you killed him, you’d be in prison. Can’t change the world from prison. Can’t come out for breakfast with me either,” he added, quieter. Enjolras thought he misheard, and tried to turn to face him. A pink tinge coloured Grantaire’s cheeks, and he looked hopeful. Before he could speak, Grantaire interrupted him. “Because if you really are interested in me, then it’d be absolutely fucking ridiculous of me to let someone like you slip through my fingers by being an idiot and not saying I think you are amazing and I’d love to take you out and date you.” He said it all in one breath, barely meeting Enjolras’ eyes. Enjolras’ heart was about to burst, and he couldn’t stop smiling.
“I don’t want to get breakfast. I want to stay here. It’s 8am. Let’s stay here.” Grantaire met his eye and smiled, hesitating before leaning up and pressing a kiss to the corner of Enjolras’ mouth.
“Yes. Stay here,” he agreed, adoration in his eyes.