"Are you kidding me?" Enjolras asks, a frown on his face.

He should be annoyed, he knows it, but the smile between Grantaire's scarf and Grantaire's beanie is too big, too impish, too bright for that. The best Enjolras can do is to pout and cross his arms on his chest like a four-year-old. It is really not fair that a man he has just met two days ago has that much effect on him already.

"Aw, aren't you cute?" Grantaire mocks. "Come on, it's gonna be great."

"Of course, you would choose to go to the ice rink for our first date." Enjolras grumbles, but he takes the glovy hand his friend – because Grantaire isn't more just yet, but he has definitely hit the "friend" spot in the blond man's heart already – is reaching out for him nonetheless. "That makes perfect sense."

"I just thought it would be fun to go there because of, you know, your amazing skills on ice and all."

Grantaire barely dodges the playful blow Enjolras sends him and laughs, and oh, oh, this is such a nice sound. It rings like fresh water on rocks, and it moves Grantaire's whole body like an earthquake, from head to toes, and Enjolras has to hold his ground very hard to remember that he is supposed to be annoyed at this nice, handsome, loveable man he doesn't really know. He pouts again. Grantaire smiles and draws him toward the entrance of the ice rink.

They have met two days ago, in the street, and if this thing going on with Grantaire is going any further, Enjolras will have to talk with him about their first meeting, because there is no way he is telling that story to his friends. He would like to preserve some kind of self-esteem, thank you very much.

He was heading for a friendly meeting with Courfeyrac and Feuilly when it happened. It was the beginning of December and it was like the entire city had moved out to the north pole overnight. As a result, the sidewalk was slippery, which is a very bad combination with a late and clumsy Enjolras. Of course he had slept, it was just his luck. The good news was that he was not Bossuet and had just ended up with a fist-size bruise on his ass and not a broken leg, thank god.

It was weird, because it had been nothing serious, but added to the fact that he was running late, that his studies were taking all the time he would rather spend with his friends away from him, and that he hadn't slept properly for the last three days, his now cold, wet and sore ass had been too much to take at the time. He had stayed put, sitting on the sidewalk, moaning and cursing everything in his life, feeling like he might cry with frustration, when someone had grabbed his arm and lifted him up. That someone was Grantaire, not that Enjolras had known that at the time.

The man had asked him if he was ok, and then, without listening to Enjolras' reassurance that yes, it was nothing, he had dragged him to the nearest café, mumbling something about warming up and resting.

When Enjolras had left the café, three hours later, his ass was still sore, but his life was unmistakably better than before he had slept, because now he didn't care about his studies, or all the sleep he had to catch up with, not even about the five missed calls from both Courfeyrac and Feuilly, because he had just met the funniest, nicest, handsomest, and any other positive adjectives ending with -est man on earth, and he was going to go on a date, a DATE, with him. If it hadn't been the best day of his life, it sure had felt like it.

Back to the present, and the ice rink. Enjolras has never gone ice skating in his life, and if the amused look on Grantaire's face is of any indication, he must have figured. It really isn't hard to guess anyway.

"I bet you're enjoying this." Enjolras grumbles while he clings to Grantaire's hand, and arm, and anything he can reach in order to avoid falling and hurting his ass again – and maybe, just maybe because he enjoys the other's warm embrace.

"Oh, I sure am." The dark-haired man answers, not looking reluctant at all with the idea of holding Enjolras against him. "But you know, it would maybe be more effective if your skates actually touched the ice. Just saying."

"Don't play the smartass with me, smartass," Enjoltaire warns, because he is trying hard, ok? He really is! But why would he insist on being insecure on the ice when he can be safe in Grantaire's arms? "You don't know who you're up against."

"Well, you didn't show me much up until now, right?" Grantaire teases.

"Just shut up, please, I'm trying to concentrate." Enjolras is slowly releasing his grips on the other man, and now it looks like it is Grantaire who doesn't want to let go. "If you had just warned me beforehand, I could have made some research on ice skating and I would do much better now."

"Are you serious?" The tone is incredulous and when the blond man darts a dark glance at him, Grantaire laughs again, and he should really stop doing that! "Oh my god, you are. This is not something you can learn in books, you know?"

"Everything can be learn in books." Enjolras retorts, stubborn as always.

"You're cute."

Grantaire has stammered that out in a rush, like he wasn't even thinking. His cheeks are bright red, and he looks uncomfortable in his scarf and beanie now, and Enjolras wonders. Can it be that, maybe, he has as much effect on Grantaire than Grantaire has on him? The very idea makes his knees buckle. And buckling knees on ice skates means no balance. It takes less than a second for Enjolras and Grantaire to hit the ground. Hard.

"Nooooo," Enjolras wails. "Not my ass again..."

"Ow..." Grantaire chuckles. "Can you please stop falling for me? One of this days, you're gonna hurt yourself. Or me. Or both."

"Oh my god, you should be put in jail for that one."

Enjolras can say whatever he wants, he just can't repress the smile on his lips. Grantaire is still red with embarrassment, but he smiles as well.

"You're also cute." Enjolras says, and why does Grantaire look so surprised? "Thank you for bringing me here."

"Really? You like it?"

"I love it. Although, next time, I got to pick the place."

When Grantaire smiles again, he looks like he's trying to compete with the sun.

"So there's gonna be a next time?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"I guess not."

Grantaire helps Enjolras up and doesn't release his hand until the end of the date. Enjolras wasn't planning on letting it go any time soon anyway.