Getting Drunk and Unexpected Consequences

It had all begun as a normal day for their group. They had met in their favourite café, discussed, learned, made fun of each other and tried very hard not to do anything that might result in any of their usual craziness. They would never be able to tell how the events of that fateful evening started, but Courfeyrac and Joly maintained that it had been Grantaire’s fault.

In a way it started as usual; Grantaire had been late and walked in with a cup of Starbucks coffee, which had prompted Enjolras to start one of his rants about corporate businesses (and why they really shouldn’t go to Starbucks). Grantaire, in his usual habit of trying to rile up Enjolras as much as possible, had probably gone a bit too far, which resulted in a shouting match between the two of them that in turn made the waitress telling them to shut up. But somehow that had only lead to Enjolras beginning to turn on her and after she had begun to cry they had been thrown out of the café.

Long story short, Grantaire had told Enjolras on their way out that he really should loosen up sometime, which had made Enjolras take on the (non-existent) challenge and decide to get drunk that evening. Grantaire would of course never admit that his tone had been challenging, but then Enjolras would probably never admit that it had been the crush he had been harbouring for a long time that had made him do it.

So basically it really had been Grantaire’s fault that they had ended up in a bar getting drunk. They had pushed two tables together in the back of the room, that they occupied completely. Grantaire had placed himself conveniently in the corner, his back against the wall so he could observe his friends on their way to drunkenness; Combeferre was with him, having decided to stay sober and to watch over Enjolras, all while keeping up a conversation about classics with Grantaire. Enjolras had been dragged to the other end of the table by Bahorel and Courfeyrac, who had made it their personal task for the evening to get him as drunk as possible.

The problem was that Enjolras was an extraordinary light-weight. It didn't take him long to get to levels of intoxication that resembled Grantaire on a good day. And to the endless delight of his friends he was very talkative when he was drunk. It wasn't as much the talking that amused them; it was the things he talked about. He was deep into his third or fourth drink when he slung an arm around Feuilly and confessed his undying love for him.

"You're a great guy, a really really great guy," he told his friend, who looked like he had to try really hard not to laugh, and before they could react he had moved on and somehow managed to crawl into the corner where Grantaire and Combeferre were sitting and sprawled over Grantaire.

"You should stop being so goddamn cynical. I like you, like...a lot, but you are so cynical and I don't know what to do with you."
Grantaire was amused but also a bit uncomfortable. He hadn't expected such a confession, and as much as he wanted to believe it he was sure that Enjolras didn't mean it. How could he with Grantaire being...well, Grantaire? But Enjolras looked at him and furrowed his brows.
"You don't believe me. Why do you not believe me? You said you believed in me. Ask 'Ferre, he can tell you. 'Ferre tell him how much I like him."

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. "Yeeeeaaaah. I think you have drunk enough for tonight, Enj, we should take you home."

"Yes, take me home, R." Enjolras looked quite happy at Grantaire's suggestion. The cynic looked over to Combeferre for help, but Enjolras' best friend only smiled and nodded.

"I think that might be best. I'll trust you to bring him home in one bit, R."

Grantaire sighed and looked down at Enjolras, who was still more or less sprawled over him. "Ok, Enjolras, I'll take you home. But you'll have to get off me so we can actually get going."

Enjolras nodded enthusiastically and stumbled to his feet. He grinned widely when Grantaire followed him and plastered himself to his friend's side as soon as he stood (which turned out to be a bit awkward, considering that Grantaire was about a head shorter than Enjolras (even though he maintained that it was only half a head)). Grantaire had no other choice but to wrap an arm around Enjolras to keep him steady as they said goodbye to their friends (Enjolras with a loud "I love all of you!") and began to walk away.

"We should probably get a cab," Grantaire said as soon as they got outside, but Enjolras shook his head violently.

"It's not far, I wanna walk."

Grantaire looked up at him and had to suppress a fit of laughter. "Are you pouting?" He shook his head with a grin on his face and sighed dramatically. "If you insist."

They turned in the direction of Enjolras' apartment and started walking, an endeavour that was soon sabotaged by Enjolras giggling next to Grantaire.

"What's the matter now?"

"Will you...will you...will you come to sleep with me?" Enjolras managed to get out between giggling fits, before he had to bend over because he had to laugh so hard.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him. "Really, Enj, you're trying to pull a Pontmercy on me now?" he asked when Enjolras had calmed down a bit.

"It worked for him, so why shouldn't it work for me?"

Grantaire sighed and shook his head, but he was smiling. "You're really drunk. I think I know now why you usually stay sober."

"Yes, but will you come to sleep with me?" Enjolras seemed intent on getting an answer to his question and with another sigh Grantaire decided to indulge him.

"Yes, I will come to sleep with you. But only if you keep walking now so we can finally get to your flat."

Enjolras grinned and let go of Grantaire to run a few paces ahead (and only God knew how he even managed that in his state) and shout

"He will come and sleep with me!"

But Enjolras never finished his sentence. One moment he was still grinning at Grantaire, arms spread wide, the next there was a screeching noise and Enjolras lay on the street.

"Combe- Combeferre, you need to come. Hospital. It's...it's Enjolras."


When Combeferre reached the hospital he found Grantaire sitting in the waiting area, looking lost and at the verge of breaking. He sat down next to him and put an arm around his shaking form. Grantaire almost collapsed into him, a sobbing mess Combeferre could only comfort for now. When the other man had calmed down considerably he finally dared to ask, "What happened?"

"He...he wanted to walk home and...we were talking and...suddenly he went ahead and...and...and there was the street and the car." Grantaire was shaking again when he finished and buried his head against Combeferre's chest. "I didn't want this. Why...why did this happen?"

Combeferre had to suppress the urge to shake Grantaire, because he had been dumb enough to give in to what the drunken Enjolras had wanted. Grantaire was shaken enough; it wouldn't do any good to upset him more. Besides, Combeferre was fairly sure that he would beat himself up for it; if he wasn't already doing it. And so he settled for comforting him while they waited for news of Enjolras.

As it turned out Enjolras had been incredibly lucky. He had a broken leg and was unconscious, but the doctors were sure that his brain wasn't damaged and he had no further injuries. Combeferre could feel the tension bleeding out of Grantaire next to him when the doctor told them that Enjolras would be okay again.

"Can we see him?" Combeferre asked, more for the sake of his friend than for his own.

The doctor nodded, "As long as there are not too many visitors at once it's alright. And you should probably don't agitate him too much, lest he tries to stand up and storm out."

Combeferre smiled wirily, unfortunately that was a reasonable concern; Enjolras had tried that before after he had gotten injured at a rally that had turned into a riot and it had not ended well (hell, he was probably known in the entire hospital for the various injuries he had gotten in their protests and the kind of patient he was). He thanked the doctor and led Grantaire to Enjolras' room.

Enjolras looked peaceful, lying there, even though they had to sew a small wound on his temple with a few stitches, and he had scrapes that made it look worse than it was. Combeferre was relieved to see his best friend, maybe not as relieved as he would be if he was actually awake, but knowing he was alive and relatively unscathed had to be enough for now.

"Don't beat yourself up about it," he told Grantaire, who was looking down at Enjolras guiltily. The other man swallowed.

"But if I had insisted on hailing a cab to get him home...or if I hadn't let him go..."

Combeferre reached over to take one of Grantaire's hands into his own. "You couldn't have known that this would happen. It was reckless to walk, but you really couldn't have expected any of this."

"But still-"

"I don't want to hear any more of it. Maybe you made a mistake, but no one can hold it against you; not even Enjolras. He was drunk and you couldn't have known anything that would happen. Enjolras is injured but he will survive."

Grantaire nodded slowly, but kept his head bent down, one of his hands lying on the hospital bed, close to Enjolras limp one, but seemingly afraid of touching. Combeferre sighed quietly and got up.

"I'll go and call Courfeyrac to tell him that everything is ok. They will be glad to hear it."

Grantaire made a small noise of confirmation and Combeferre left the room to let the others know.

Both of them stayed with Enjolras that night; Combeferre had tried to get Grantaire to leave and rest, but he had refused.

"I can't just go home when I know he lies here," he had said, "Not when it’s me who is partially responsible." Combeferre had only nodded.

Grantaire had finally fallen asleep when Enjolras woke up. He looked around for a moment, confused by his surroundings; he saw Grantaire first and smiled fondly at his sleeping form, fingers stretching as if to touch his hand, but not actually doing it. There was a knowing smile on Combeferre's face when Enjolras looked over to him.

"What happened?"

"How much do you remember?"

Enjolras frowned as he thought about that. "I was drunk and he walked me home. I think I said something ridiculous and then...I know I was happy and then suddenly I was out."

His best friend nodded. "According to Grantaire you ran onto the street and into a car."

"That explains the pain. How bad is it?"

"You have a broken leg, bruises and scrapes, and a gash on your temple that they had to sew up with a few stitches. And..." Combeferre stopped, unsure if he should tell Enjolras about Grantaire.

But Enjolras raised an eyebrow and looked at him expectantly. "And what?"

Combeferre sighed. "It's Grantaire. He blames himself for what happened."

They both looked at the third man in the room, still asleep and perfectly unaware of what they were talking about. There was a soft expression on Enjolras' face as he watched their friend.

"He really shouldn't. It's not his fault," he said softly, moving his hand to grasp Grantaire's.

"Tell him that when you're both awake. But you should rest now."

Enjolras nodded. "You should rest, too. I won't go anywhere."

Combeferre smiled. "Then we'll both rest and I'll see you in the morning."

When Enjolras awoke for the next time it was to the view of Grantaire looking down at their linked hands in disbelief. He smiled and squeezed it, making Grantaire look up at him.

"You're awake!" the other man exclaimed and let go of Enjolras' hand. "How do you feel?"

"I feel sore and a little bit in pain, but it's ok," the blond replied with a crooked smile. Grantaire looked down.

"You know, I'm...I'm really sorry for what happened."

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault, Grantaire. You have nothing to feel sorry for."

"But..."

Enjolras looked at him with a determined expression. "I don't want to hear any of it. It's not your fault; it's mine, so please stop feeling guilty."

Grantaire still looked guilty. It appeared that Enjolras didn't get through like this.

"Please," he said, "do it for me?"

Grantaire let out a dry laugh. "You know I can't say no to that."

This time it was Enjolras who looked down. "I know. And I wish I wouldn't have to say it, but I really really don't want you to feel guilty about this."

"I can't promise to stop, Apollo. But if you really want me to..." Grantaire swallowed. "I can try at least."

Enjolras smiled at him and reached out for Grantaire's hand again. "If you insist on saying sorry you could of course still invite me out for a coffee sometime."

"If you want me to...I guess I could do that."

"I would very much like that."

Enjolras thought that probably the smile on his face wouldn't vanish for a while, and maybe he would be able to turn the puzzlement that was visible on Grantaire's face right now into a smile, too at some point.


They didn't go on their coffee date until Enjolras' was completely healed. It was after one of their meetings at the Musain that Grantaire approached Enjolras about it.

"Hey," he said, fidgeting nervously, "I think I still owe you a coffee."

Enjolras, still calming down from the discussion earlier, looked up from his papers and furrowed his brows in confusion before he remembered what Grantaire was talking about. His expression softened and the slight scowl was replaced by a smile.

"Yes, I believe you do."

"Friday after your afternoon lecture? I know for a fact that you're free then."

"Yes, Friday works."

"Good." Grantaire nodded, a pleased expression on his face. "I'll pick you up then."

Enjolras nodded and gave him a smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

The smile didn't leave his face as he watched Grantaire slouch out of the door and went back to his work.


True to his word, Grantaire waited in front of the lecture hall after Enjolras' afternoon lecture. They smiled at each other and Enjolras fell in step with Grantaire.

"So where are we going?"

"There's a nice place I know just a few blocks down the street, that I discovered when I was hung over. Probably not the kind of place you would expect me in, but it's nice and the barista makes one hell of a coffee."

"I'll trust your judgement on that."

Grantaire grinned. "If there's one thing I know shit about it's coffee."

"Apart from alcohol, art and the classics of course," Enjolras replied with a raised eyebrow, "not to mention a bunch of other things."
Grantaire considered that for a moment before he shrugged. "Maybe. I guess, I can't disagree if Apollo himself tells me so."

And there it was again, Grantaire's usual teasing (mockery?) that always made Enjolras realise that the artist really didn't think much of himself.

"R," he said softly, "you really can believe it. You have so many talents, there's no reason why you should think badly of yourself."
Grantaire's smile seemed a bit forced, but there was something genuine in his eyes when he said "I can try if you want me to" and Enjolras knew it wasn't good, knew that even if Grantaire tried for him he would have to see it for himself if it was to have any effect, but he had no idea how to do that. He sighed again.

"It would mean the world."

Grantaire looked at him with something akin to wonder, but much more disbelieving, before he looked ahead again and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, ok. Well...," he trailed off and cleared his throat again, apparently rendered speechless.

They walked in silence for a while before Grantaire stopped in front of a cosy looking little coffee shop.

"This is the place. You look for a table, I'll get us coffee," he declared, before holding the door open for Enjolras and they entered.

Grantaire had been right, the place really didn't look like the kind of place he would Grantaire expect to go. It was small, cosy, with pictures of flowers on the walls and comfortable but elegant chairs. The whole place was held in white and pastel colours, light in more than one sense. Very few people were seated at the tables, most towards the front right next to the windows, some old ladies and a middle aged man who looked like he was writing. The barista behind the counter was a young, blonde woman with a kind and cheerful smile, who had something about her that made him feel like she would be fast friends with Jehan.

Enjolras made his way over to a table towards the back of the room, placed in a corner from where they could easily overlook the rest of the place and were far enough away from the other occupants, and sat down. He found himself watching Grantaire as he got their coffees, smiling at the barista and chatting with her as she fixed their coffees. He seemed at ease in a way Enjolras had always liked to see on him and that made him feel slightly jealous of her, because Grantaire showed it so seldom around him.

He still seemed relaxed when he joined Enjolras at the table and smiled at him. Enjolras smiled back and took the first sip of his coffee. Grantaire hadn't lied, it was very good coffee and he savoured the taste on his tongue.

"Do you like it?" Grantaire asked grinning.

"Very much. You didn't promise too much."

"Cosette will be glad to hear it."

There was a lapse in their conversation as both men sipped on their coffees. It felt different from what Enjolras was used to; usually their silences were loaded with whatever argument they had had before, but this one felt easier, more comfortable, more like two friends having a nice time together.

"So how does your thing next week come along?" Grantaire asked finally.

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "I thought you believed it to be useless."

"That may be, but it certainly doesn't hinder me from asking how it is going."

"I can't complain. If nothing comes up everything should work out."

"That's good."

"Will you be there?"

"Do you want me there?" Grantaire raised an eyebrow, almost successfully hiding the surprise that was visible in his eyes for a moment. Enjolras reached over the table to grasp his hand.

"You're one of us; of course I want you there."

This time Grantaire couldn't hide his astonishment; for a moment he only stared at Enjolras, before the smile slipped back onto his face.

"Then I'll be there."

Enjolras smiled back at him, his hand still holding Grantaire's. He only released it reluctantly when they had finished their coffees and got up to leave.

"Thanks a lot for the coffee," Enjolras said when they left the coffee shop, standing awkwardly on the street.

Grantaire smiled. "You're welcome."

There was a moment of silence in which Enjolras thought of all the things he still had to do even though he didn't really want to because it felt so nice to be with Grantaire right now and it would be so much nicer to spend some more time with him instead of working. Grantaire was about to say goodbye when Enjolras finally spoke.

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"

"Uhm...," Grantaire replied, "not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering…how you would feel about having a movie night at my place."

"As in spontaneously today?" Grantaire looked baffled.

"Yes." Enjolras nodded. "I don't really have anything to do today and I would really like to spend some more time with you."

"Wow...I mean...yes, yes of course." Grantaire looked at him out of wide eyes, unbelieving, like he thought he might wake up any second and find out it had all been a dream.

"Great." Enjolras smiled at him and turned to walk in the direction of his apartment, Grantaire joining him after a few steps.

"Anything you want to watch?"

Grantaire thought for a moment. "I don't expect you have Star Wars, have you?"

"The old or the new trilogy?"

"The old of course, no one likes the new."

"Yes, I have those. We'll just have to stop and get popcorn or something on our way. And I hope you know that while the prequel trilogy
has flaws it does make some valid points."

"It's still worse than the original."

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "You're an artist; you could at least acknowledge how far we have come in terms of special effects."

“Whatever that’s supposed to mean. Besides, I never said I didn't." Grantaire shrugged.

Enjolras shook his head and smiled. He was glad to have an actual conversation that didn't escalate with Grantaire this time. It wasn't like they never talked without it turning into an argument, but it was rare and it had been important for him not to argue with Grantaire on this particular occasion. In fact, he was looking forward to spend the rest of the evening with him, if only because it meant he could sneak looks at him while they were watching Star Wars.

It ended up being...different than that. It was pleasant enough, both of them sitting on Enjolras' slightly battered couch, munching the popcorn they had gotten from the supermarket and watching Star Wars. They started in silence, both more or less watching the film. Enjolras snuck looks at Grantaire whenever he could, sometimes catching the other doing exactly the same.

Somehow they decided at some point that discussing the film was much more interesting than watching it. Enjolras found that they actually agreed on some points and that for once they could discuss those that they didn't agree on without it turning into an argument; and when the credits of the last part rolled down he felt that it had been a pleasant evening.

"We should do this more often," he told Grantaire with a soft smile.

"If you'd like to..."

"I'd very much like to."

Grantaire looked at him, wonder in his eyes.

"Are you sure that you're ok?"

"Why shouldn't I be ok?" Enjolras was confused.

"Because...well...this." Grantaire made a helpless gesture, encompassing the two of them. "All we do is argue and yet here we are, you
allowing me to invite you to drink coffee and then inviting me over to watch Star Wars... It all seems so unlike...you."

Enjolras smiled and took Grantaire's hand. "Have you considered that I don't want to argue with you?"

Grantaire swallowed. "So this is what you want?"

"In a way." Enjolras' voice was soft, his hand moving up to caress Grantaire's face. "But actually there is much more that I would like to do with you."

The look in Grantaire's eyes spoke of confusion, but also of hope and disbelief. He swallowed again, watched by Enjolras who was moving closer without breaking eye contact. He hesitated a moment, their lips only centimetres apart.

"Do you permit it?" Enjolras asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and in lieu of an answer Grantaire closed what little distance remained between them and kissed him.