Taking a deep breath, Grantaire hesitated before entering the house, hovering by the back door as soon as he saw his mother. Barbara had flour up to her elbows and a streak across her forehead as she mixed together the scones, but she smiled warmly at her son when she heard him laughing.

"I'm gonna miss your baking when I move out," he sighed, stealing a bun from the cooling tray before skipping out of her way again.

"When you move out?" She raised one eyebrow at her son. "You've almost four years to go before that, and if you even think about taking any more buns before I've sorted how many I need for church there will be trouble young man." As she went back to her scones, Barbara glanced over at Grantaire, worried by the look of almost fear she saw in his eyes. "Grantaire, are you okay?" she asked softly. "You look terrified by something."

"Mum, I have something to tell you," he said slowly, staring at his hands as he started to pick the bun to pieces, taking a seat at the table as he did so. Barbara knew this was important to him so quickly wiped her hands and moved over to sit next to him.

"What about?" she asked softly, resting one hand on his arm.

"I... uh well... I'm sorta..." He sighed and blurted it out quickly. "MumI'mgay."

"Well of course you are," Barbara said with relief. "I thought it was something serious."

"But... You're not mad? I mean, I've read the Bible, I know what it says-"

"'Taire, the Bible was written in a completely different time," his mother interrupted. "If people cannot move past a two thousand year old attitude to love then that is their problem." She fixed him with a beady eye. "So when do I get to meet him?"

"Soon?" Grantaire offered weakly, struggling to believe that after all his worrying, his mother had taken the news so well. "What a minute, 'of course you are'? You mean you knew?"

"I'm your mother dear, of course I knew. It's called intuition. Now what's he called and how long have you been together?"

"Derek. He's from Ireland, Courf introduced us. We've been dating a couple of months now."

"Well, I expect to meet him very soon," Barbara told him, kissing Grantaire's forehead as she stood. "But a piece of advice - maybe don't tell your father just yet. You know what he can like. He may not take it quite so well."

Grantaire rocked his hips up to meet his boyfriend's as Anthony thrust into him, letting his head fall back against the sofa arm and a low moan escape his lips when Anthony hit the right spot inside him. "Fuck, right there, yes, again!" he gasped, nails digging into the other boy's back.

"What the fuck?!"

Grantaire turned bright red when he realised his father had just entered the house, his boyfriend giving an embarrassed yelp and pulling out quickly. Grabbing the cushions they'd knocked to the floor earlier, Grantaire threw one at Anthony as he covered himself with the other. Timothy Wise had covered his eyes as he span to face the open doorway, almost as red as his son, and he hesitated before deciding he was probably safest not turning around.

"Are you decent yet?" he growled, hearing the scuffling behind him as Anthony and Grantaire scrabbled around for their clothes.

"Yeah," Grantaire muttered sheepishly, not meeting his father's eyes as he turned round again, raising one eyebrow at them both. "Uh, dad, this is Tony. My boyfriend."

"Get out," Tim said instantly, eyes not even moving from Grantaire to the other boy.

"Um, okay." Anthony was grateful to be able to escape. "I'll text you later 'Taire." Pushing past Tim he practically ran from the house. Grantaire gave his father a worried look, rather surprised when he realised Tim was almost completely sober for once.

"So you're gay," Tim said bluntly, unable to meet his son's eyes either.

"Yeah, I'd say that's kind of obvious."

"You also have a bedroom."

"It's, uh, kinda full of art stuff. I was sorting my college projects, the bed's covered in them."

"So you decided having sex on our sofa was a good idea."

"Mum's away for the weekend and you were meant to be at work!" Grantaire protested. "I wasn't expecting anyone to come walking in. Besides, I'm seventeen. I'm legal, we both are."

Tim studied him for a few minutes, silence falling between them like a heavy blanket.

"I thought you were interested in that girl across the road," he said finally. Grantaire simply shrugged.

"Obviously not," he replied.

Tim sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So you have a boyfriend. Does your mother know?"

"Yeah, she's met him. Couple of weeks ago." Grantaire's father made a mental note to have a word with his wife about that.

"If things don't work out with this one, then next time I want to meet him sooner, understood?" Tim told him gruffly. "Look, I only came home for my wallet so I have to go back to work. Oh, and no more sex on our sofa. I mean it."

Grantaire smiled with relief that his father wasn't mad or disgusted, Tim giving him a small smile in return.

"It's a deal dad."

"So what's new with you?" Barbara asked as Grantaire transferred the phone to his other hand, freeing up his left to play with Enjolras's hair as his boyfriend walked into the room and flopped down on the floor in front of the sofa, resting his head back against Grantaire's knee as he started reading.

"Oh, you know, nothing much," Grantaire said nonchalently, making Enjolras smirk. The blonde knew Grantaire only ever used that tone when he was talking to his mother.

"Something big then," Barbara replied instantly, knowing when her son was lying. "University, work or personal?"

"Personal."

"Do I have to keep guessing or are you going to just tell me?"

"I have a new boyfriend," Grantaire said finally, rather reluctantly. "I'm dating Enjolras. My friend, you remember him?"

"Oh, the blonde who used to get into those political debates with Mothy? The one you've been in love with since first meeting him?" Grantaire couldn't help but blush.

"Yeah, him. It's been just over a month now."

"What are your plans for Christmas?" she asked then, surprising Grantaire with the sudden subject change. He'd been expecting a lot more questions from his mother.

"Um, as of yet nothing."

"In which case, you're coming to see me. Both of you are."

Grantaire sighed. "One moment." Covering the mouthpiece he looked down at his boyfriend. "Are you going home for Christmas?" Enjolras laughed and shook his head. "Want to go to Liverpool?" Enjolras quirked one eyebrow up at him.

"I take it your mother just invited us. Go on then."

"We'll be there," Grantaire promised Barbara before hanging up and twisting another strand of Enjolras's curls round his finger. "You do realise we're going to get the Spanish inquisition," he warned.

"No we won't," Enjolras replied, dropping his book to turn and face Grantaire, sliding his hands up the brunette's thighs gently, making his breath hitch before he managed to speak again, trying to keep his voice unaffected.

"Oh really? And you know that how exactly?"

Enjolras leant in close before whispering his answer.

"Because nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition."

Their laughter rang through the house, making a nice change to the arguments that so often took their place.