The next night Enjolras returned home from a shift at the Corinth feeling all keyed up. He had only been working at the bar, but several men had still managed to hit on him. It was common enough, he knew that most people found him conventionally attractive, but this was the first time he had actually considered bringing one of them home with him. It had been such a long few days, full of thoughts of Grantaire, and nothing he could do could distract himself from him. But in the end, Enjolras just couldn't bring himself to invite a stranger into the home he shared with Courfeyrac.

Thinking about his roommate made the blond realize that the house was oddly empty feeling. After a short examination of all the rooms, Enjolras came to the conclusion that Courfeyrac was out, and probably wouldn't be back til morning. It wasn't unusual, or even that much of a surprise. Courf was often out partying with friends, and truth be told Enjolras was glad for the privacy.

Enjolras went to his room and began to undress. He pulled off the tight black V-neck that was standard dress code at the Corinth, before tugging at his skinny jeans. His hand brushed against his semi-hard cock, causing Enjolras to let out a filthy moan. It seemed to fill the empty air, a promise for what would follow.

Enjolras stripped down, before moving to the bed. He knelt on top of the covers and began to pull at his dick. It wasn't too long until he was completely hard, drips of precum leaking from his abused member. He closed his eyes and began to imagine paint covered hands running up and down his flushed body, prodding at his hole before teasing the head and slit of his cock. Another moan accompanied the wet noises filling the room as Enjolras' arched his back, thrusting in hopes of getting more friction. His breath became ragged as he pictured those hands scissoring him open in preparation for something much larger and heavier. His legs began to buckle as his fingers worked at himself from both ends. With a chocked out moan, the blond spilled over into his hand.

"Fuck."

He quickly cleaned up, hating himself for who he had been picturing the whole time.

Grantaire woke up early to find the spot next to him empty. Charla had suggested they stay at the B&B, but when Helene had heard that she said that it would be better for them to stay with family. He sighed leaning back against his pillows. He always had enjoyed watching his lovers wake up beside them. To see them blink blearily into the morning, before smiling at him and curling closer...God, he loved that. But Charla was never one for cuddling, or sleeping in for that matter. And Grantaire supposed that that was one of the things he loved about her.

Lazily he got dressed before going down into the kitchen to find his parents cooking breakfast. Well to be more precise his mother was reading the newspaper and chatting with his father as he made crepes.

"Have you seen Charla?" Grantaire asked sitting down beside his mother.

"She went out for a jog, dear. Said she needed some time to herself," Helene explained.

Grantaire glared at his mother, "have you been pressuring her into having the wedding here?"

"Us? Pressuring? Not at all," Helene denied.

Augustin laughed, "well perhaps a bit. C'mon R, so many family friends live here-"

"We have friends in New York, papa," Grantaire said dryly.

"Really? Like who?" Helene interrupted.

"Like Joly or Musichetta and-"

"Well if you ever bothered to call we might know these things. I've never heard about these people before today, Grantaire!" his mother complained.

"Besides," Grantaire frowned, "Charla has plenty of friends and contacts in New York as well-"

"What's going on?" Charla asked, entering through the garden door. She was dressed in jogging clothes, a bluetooth still in her ear.

"We're discussing where we are having the wedding," Grantaire said exasperatedly.

"We should have it here," Charla said, like it was the obvious answer.

"What?" Grantaire's jaw dropped.

Helene clapped her hands together, sharing a grin with her husband.

"I mean," Charla continued, "it seems to mean a lot to your parents. Besides I'm sure our friends would love to see your hometown. It really isn't that much of a big deal."

Grantaire just stared at his fiancee like she had grown another head while she was out on her run. "But I thought you wanted a big city wedding."

Charla shrugged. "I talked it over with some of my friends this morning. They think a country wedding will be charming. Besides everyone gets married in the city these days."

Grantaire nodded dumbly.

"But what about your parents?" asked Helene. "Will they be alright with this?"

"They're dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I-"

"Really it's ok," Charla said. She shook her head as if to forget about the unpleasantness of the matter before continuing, "I'm just glad to have found a venue for the wedding."

"Oh darling, that's wonderful!" Helene said grabbing hold of her daughter-in-law to be's shoulders. Charla didn't like to be hugged.

Charla nodded like the decision had been made, and they were done. She sat down at the table with Helene and Grantaire before beginning to page through some magazines she had brought.

"So, any plans today?" asked Augustin.

Grantaire looked at his fiancee, "yeah. I was actually thinking of introducing you to my best friend today."

Charla looked up from her magazine, a smile on her face. "I would love to meet him."

Grantaire blushed as his mother and father laughed in the background, "my best friend in high school was actually a girl."

Charla's expression shifted so quickly that no one could quite read it. "Silly of me to presume. It would be an honor to meet her." Her smile was chilly.

Grantaire nodded. Later that morning he texted Eponine to see if she was free. They ended up making plans for that afternoon. Grantaire spent the rest of the morning curled up with a sketchbook, listening to his mother and fiancee call up the church to book it. This whole engagement felt surreal. It didn't feel that long ago that he had asked her to marry him.

Grantaire had been in his studio, working on his latest piece, when Charla had come running in.

"Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" she had cried pulling him into a hug.

"Er, yes to what exactly?" he asked still disoriented that she had initiated the hug.

"Yes I'll marry you," she held up her left hand to show a ring on her fourth finger. His ring. He had bought it a few weeks ago at Tiffany's and had been waiting for the right time to ask.

"Where did you get that?"

Charla snorted. "Your underwear drawer? Really? For an artist you're pretty cliché, babe."

"And what were you doing snooping through my underwear drawer?" He asked.

"I was putting away your laundry and I just found it," Charla said. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't wait..."

Grantaire frowned. He wasn't used to Charla being all cutesy and shy, but he supposed that's what weddings did to a girl. "I mean I didn't have a plan yet-"

Charla rolled her eyes. "I know I can sometimes be intimidating, but you had to know I would say yes."

And there was the Charla he was familiar with. Grantaire let out a sigh, trying not to appear too disappointed. "Do you like it?" he managed to ask.

The ring was quite large and flashy, it had cost the artist a small fortune.

"Love it," Charla said carefully placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

And that's how they got engaged, although when Charla told the story she liked to tell people that they were at a five star restaurant. And there had been candles and roses and music...that it had been expensive and tasteful...She said anything to make her friends jealous...

In the afternoon, the two of them drove over to the old mill house where Eponine was living. After knocking on the door, it was opened by a beautiful brunette.

"'Ponine? My god, I barely recognize you!" R exclaimed pulling the woman into a hug.

Eponine had a large smile on her lips. "Fuck, it's been too long. And this must be your fiancee. Hi, sorry about the language. My name's Eponine Thenardier."

"Charla de la Roche," Charla said shaking the girl's hand.

"Come on in," Eponine invited them. "Sorry if it's a mess. I live with my younger brother."

"And what about your parents?" Charla asked politely.

"They live on the other side of town, run the B&B," Eponine explained.

"I thought your name sounded familiar," Charla said.

They made their way into a large open room that was the living room. Grantaire and Charla sat on the couch while Eponine took the wingback. "Can I get any of you anything to drink?"

"Nothing for me," Charla said, eyeing the pile of textbooks and papers on the floor.

"I'm fine as well," Grantaire said graciously.

"So, you must tell me where you two met," Eponine began.

"One of his showcases," Charla answered coolly. "I was criticizing one of his pieces to the man next to me, who turned out to be the artist himself."

Eponine frowned slightly. "Ah, I see."

"I recommended that he take some more advanced art classes, and meet with some of my contacts and get an internship. He followed my advice and look how successful he is now. He's got a show coming up this winter," bragged Charla.

Eponine smiled, "That's great R!"

Grantaire blushed.

"And what about you two?" Charla asked.

"Huh?"

"I mean when did you meet? How did you become best friends?" Charla asked raising an immaculately sculpted brow.

Eponine smiled warmly. "We actually met because my parents told me to pick some flowers from his mother's garden for the room arrangements for some rich guests and he caught me."

Charla brow rose even higher. "Your parents encouraged you to steal?"

Eponine laughed. "Yeah, they aren't really the best role models. So as soon as I could I took my younger brother and moved here. Anyway R, caught me and made me apologize to his mother who instantly saw I was near tears and invited me in for some lemonade. We've been friends ever since."

"And in high school? What was he like then?" Charla asked.

"He was a sap," Eponine smirked, "head over heels in love with another boy in our class."

"A boy?"

"R?" Eponine looked over at her friend uncertainly.

Grantaire coughed. "Guess this never really came up. But I'm bisexual."

Charla nodded. "I suppose it makes sense with the people you hang out with..."

"Huh?" Eponine asked.

"She's talking about this poly couple that I know in New York. I roomed with one of the guys through college. His name's Bossuet, he's got the worst luck for a guy I've ever met. Except when it comes to his two partners," Grantaire explained. "He got pretty lucky there."

Eponine smiled. "That's so sweet."

"So this guy that Grantaire was in love with? What was he like?" Charla asked.

Eponine looked uncomfortably at R as if to ask should I tell her or should you?

"You've actually met him," Grantaire said slowly.

"Really?!"

"He served us brunch at the Musain," Grantaire explained.

"The waiter?!"

"Yeah, him."

Charla nodded. "Was it weird seeing him again after all this time?"

"What?"

"Was it weird? I mean you were 'head over heels' in love right? So was it weird?" Charla pressed.

Grantaire frowned, "what's gotten into you?"

Charla shook her head. "We'll discuss this later. Anyway Eponine, it was lovely to meet you. I think it would be best for us to go now. We have a lot of planning to do. Grantaire, babe, how about you go get the car. I want to have a word with Eponine, girl to girl."

Grantaire nodded, like he wanted to stay. He had just introduced the two strongest women he knew and it was like watching two nuclear warheads being primed and aimed. Uneasily he left the room, hoping that if there were casualties it would be something he could handle.

"Now that he's gone," Charla said stepping into Eponine's space, "I wanted to ask you, would you be my maid of honor?"

"What?" Eponine asked dumbly.

"My maid of honor? I know it would mean so much to R," she said his nickname like it was something that a child said and she was mimicking it carefully so as not to offend.

"What about your friends in New York?" Eponine asked.

Charla rolled her eyes. "They'll be bridesmaids, of course, but I don't see them being my maid of honor. Truth is, most of the women I know are sharks. And to be honest I don't trust them. But I think you will take the position seriously. After all, Grantaire is a close friend."

Eponine nodded. "Yeah, alright. It'll be my pleasure."

Charla nodded. "Great. I'll be in contact with you shortly."

The blonde strode out of the house and straight into the idling car.

"What was that about?"

"I asked her to be my maid of honor," Charla said.

"Really!? What about all your friends back home?" Grantaire asked pulling out of the driveway.

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, babe," Charla said putting on her sunglasses.

"Eponine's your enemy?" Grantaire asked.

"Sure she is. After all, she knows so much more about you then I do," Charla said. "For Christ's sake you never told me you were a bisexual."

"I guess it never came up," Grantaire said.

"Well after the wedding that will have to stop."

"Huh?"

"I mean I can't be worried that my man will cheat on me with another guy." Charla shivered delicately. "I know how greedy bisexuals can be. Take a look at your poly friends."

"What about them?" Grantaire said springing to their defense.

"Well I don't want them to give you any ideas," she said delicately. "I am not okay with sharing you with another woman. Or man. Are we clear."

"Charla-"

"Let's not talk about this heavy matter anymore. It's settled," Charla said. "Besides I feel a headache coming on."

Grantaire frowned. He had never seen Charla behave this way. He made a mental note to get in contact with Eponine later, to see what had happened while he was gone since it appeared for the time that his fiancee was unwilling to talk.

Hi guys, so yeah I've added some smut. There's a reason for it, I promise. Think of it as foreshadowing. I also decided that I can't tell this entire story from Enjolras' point of view as I had initially envisioned so here's R's story as well. Let me know what you think. Love the support, keep it up. ~T.W.o.W.