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After three months of living together, Combeferre had come to learn about a side of Grantaire that he kept back from everyone. Combeferre found himself really enjoying Grantaire’s company and getting to know the man that often hid his real thoughts at the bottom of the bottle. Yes, Grantaire was a drunk, an artist, and a cynic; but there was more to the man with the dark chocolate curls, eyes the color of an ocean, and wit sharper than a sword. Grantaire had a neat insight on life that challenged Combeferre’s bookish upbringing, and Combeferre welcomed the challenge. Both men enjoyed discussing random bits of philosophy, topics that the Les Amis de l’ABC were tackling, and Combeferre even loved listening to Grantaire talk about his latest paintings.
Enjolras had even been discussed one late, alcohol-fueled discussion two months into their living arrangement. With their inhibitions lowered, just enough, both men admitted to loving the blond leader of their group. Grantaire and Combeferre talked about realizing loving Enjolras was an almost futile effort – both accepting that love would always be part of their hearts. After that night, their inhibitions stayed lowered.
_______________________
Combeferre is thrilled that it’s Friday, that there is very little homework to take over his weekend, and that he doesn’t have to see the campus until Monday morning. He smiles as the smell of something delicious cooking as he opens the door. Grantaire cooks on Fridays since his classes get out hours before Combeferre can make it home.
“You look like shit,” Grantaire laughs. “That bad of a day?”
“Long day in class. Had to give a presentation. Enjolras had a mild freak out when he thought he lost his notes.” Combeferre kicks off his shoes by the door and drops his bag on the table. He notices Grantaire watching him, before the brunet breaks the glance, turning back to whatever has the entire apartment smelling wonderful.
“What are you cooking?” Combeferre walks up behind Grantaire, placing his hand on the small of his back, and he peers over the shorter man’s shoulder. He feels Grantaire tense for a moment before he relaxes against the touch.
“Grilled chicken alfredo. I hope you like that.” Grantaire keeps his focus on pans in front of him, but Combeferre could feel him lean his head back against Combeferre’s shoulder.
“I love it, actually!” Combeferre found himself not wanting to move.
They stand there in silence for a few minutes. Grantaire speaks first, “Combeferre.” His voice is almost a whisper.
Combeferre jumps, feeling his cheeks instantly turn as reddish as his hair. “I’m sorry.” He backs up.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Grantaire turns around, biting his lip. “I just needed to move to finish cooking.”
“Oh!” Combeferre breathes out a huge sigh. Why am I getting this flustered over Grantaire?
Grantaire smiles at him. “This will be done in about five minutes.”
Combeferre excuses himself to his bedroom for a moment. Once there, he shuts the door, leaning his back against it. Three months living with Grantaire. Three months of talking. Three months of growing closer – literally. Combeferre’s brain let go of thoughts he had been holding back - Grantaire’s blue eyes. The way his curls are a bird’s nest each morning. His hands being constantly stained some random color from that day’s paintings. How he always seems to know when I need to take a break from studying. How he’ll listen when I need to vent, even if he isn’t interested in the topic. Just – when did this happen?
Combeferre feels his hands shaking as he stands up to go back in the kitchen. He isn’t paying attention as he walks out of his room and slams into Grantaire, who is standing outside of his room with a cell phone to his ear.
“Courfeyrac wants to know if we want to go watch a movie at his place with everyone else tonight. I told him that I wou—“
Combeferre’s body is completely against Grantaire. He doesn’t think, when he leans down and kisses Grantaire gently. Combeferre fully expects Grantaire to pull away, and he is shocked when the hand not holding the cell phone is at the back of his head – pulling him closer.
When they break from the kiss, they can both hear Courfeyrac shouting from the cell phone. Grantaire’s cheeks are still tinged pink, and Combeferre feels the heat of his own face.
“Can I have that?” He points to the cell.
Grantaire just nods, handing it over. His fingers are touching his own lips.
“Courfeyrac,” Combeferre says, trying not to sound as winded as he is.
“Did you just kiss Grantaire?” Courfeyrac’s voice sounds like a kid in a candy store unsupervised.
“Courfeyrac, none of your business.” Combeferre is watching Grantaire starting to grin.
Combeferre clicks the call on to speaker. “What we do in our apartment, especially when we get surprise phone calls, is none of your business.”
Grantaire has a hand over his mouth to muffle his snickers.
“But, Combeferre. This is good news. Let me share it with folks!”
“If you do, I’ll make sure Enjolras knows about a certain picture.”
Grantaire’s eyes get wide with curiosity.
Courfeyrac coughs, “You wouldn’t!”
“I would.” Combeferre smirks at Grantaire, who is now biting his lip to keep from laughing.
“Fuck you, Combeferre.”
“You love me, Courfeyrac.”
“True. I do.”
“Now, I’m going to go back to what I was doing. We’ll be there when we get there.” Combeferre taps the screen to end the call before Courfeyrac say anything else.
Grantaire is leaning against the wall across the hallway from the door to Combeferre’s room. He has this adorable smirk on his face. “You kissed me,” he says while biting his bottom lip again.
“You kissed me back.” Combeferre slips the cell phone in his pocket. He walks over to Grantaire. “What are we doing?”
“I have no idea, but I like it.” He pulls Combeferre close, slipping his hands under the tail of Combeferre’s dress shirt.
Combeferre slowly runs his hands down Grantaire’s back, which causes him to arch his back, pushing him more against Combeferre; who takes the opening to plant a kiss on Grantaire’s collar bone. The soft moan that elicits causes Combeferre’s brain to go into over drive.
He lifts Grantaire’s chin, seeing now how wide Grantaire’s eyes are. Combeferre leans down, pressing a deep kiss onto Grantaire’s mouth. He lightly bites Grantaire’s bottom lip, which causes him to dig his nails into Combeferre’s back, as they kiss again – teasing each other’s tongues with this kiss.
As they break from the kiss, Grantaire whispers, “If we don’t stop, the food is going to get cold, and Courfeyrac will call back.”
Combeferre chuckles, running his fingers along Grantaire’s jaw line. “Where did this all come from, Grantaire?”
“You started it,” He chuckles.
“So, I did, didn’t I?”
“You did ask me to move in.” His words tickle Combeferre’s neck.
“And you said yes.” Combeferre tilts Grantaire’s face back to where he could see his eyes.
“Do you not want them to know about this?” Grantaire asks.
“I didn’t want Courfeyrac to tell.” Combeferre kisses him again, erasing the worry from his face.
Grantaire smiles. “I thought you might want to keep it a secret.” He blushes and tries to hide it.
“No. I wanted to let you be the one that takes that lead, R.”
This time Grantaire kisses first, as he spins Combeferre so that he is now the one against the wall. Grantaire kiss is forceful, yet sweet; Combeferre moans softly into Grantaire’s mouth as his nails dig into Combeferre’s back. “Thank you,” he whispers into Combeferre’s ear.
“Let’s eat,” Combeferre kisses him again.
“On one condition.”
“Name your price.”
“That’s not the last time you kiss me like that - Like I’m the only thing in the world you want.” Grantaire is still breathless.
“Only if you do the same.” Combeferre grabs his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen.
“Deal. So totally, deal.” Grantaire chuckles.
Combeferre watches as Grantaire works to dish up the food. He runs his fingers over his lips when Grantaire isn’t looking. Combeferre can’t remember the last time he smiled like this or felt like this. Leave it to the cynic to make him this happy and to take him by surprise. Combeferre thinks to himself, I’m going to enjoy this.
Grantaire brings the plates to the table. “So do I want to know what picture?”
Combeferre grins, “Let’s just say, we aren’t the only ones that have thought about bedding Enjolras.”
Grantaire chokes on the bite of the Alfredo he had just put in his mouth.
“He keeps hoping that I will forget”
“But you haven’t.” Grantaire recovers.
“Nope."
“Do you even have proof of it?” Grantaire lifts and eyebrow.
“Nope, but he doesn’t know that.” Combeferre smirks and starts to eat.