My Best Friend's Wedding
Disclaimer: Only this story is my own – I don't own the characters. Sadly.
AN: This is Mary's favorite chapter, so this chapter is dedicated to her! If you don't know who Mary is – shame on you. Go follow her on Tumblr (eponnjolras) and go read her story Tides (as AliceInSomewhereland here on )
Chapter thirteen: Guess what happens at dinner?
After a day like the one she has been having, all she wants to do is eat chocolate and/or cheesecake and watch a nice movie from the comfort of her own bed. But her stupid birthday cheesecake is still at Enjolras' place and now she is going to dinner with him too, wondering if she should have dressed up more for this occasion.
"Door's open," he calls out as she fixes her stupid clothes once more.
"I can see that," she replies sarcastically as she pushes the door open without any kind of resistance. "I also see that you have no issues with burglars? Don't leave your door open in a fancy place like yours, 'Jolras. What would you do if your couch gets stolen?"
So she makes a joke out of it instead of being too serious about this. There are just too many seriously delicious smells coming from his kitchen, and these smells are distracting enough to keep her from cracking her usual jokes or to start her worrying about the risks he took just to have her enter his apartment unobstructed.
"I am just a little too busy to open the door for you," he shouts from the kitchen.
"I locked it behind me," she responds, wanting to make sure they are safe.
It is kind of intriguing, combining the amazing smells from the kitchen with his mysterious attitude about the whole thing. She is not stupid enough to think that he is doing anything other than cooking in his kitchen, but the smells have not yet been able to tell her just what he is making in there. It could be pizza, but it could also be pasta, but there is a distinct scent of Italian food in the air. It smells wonderful.
"Go sit at the dinner table," he orders from his safe and distant spot.
"What the heck are you even doing in there?" she asks, following his orders because it is probably important for some reason. "Where are we going for dinner?"
Okay, so she is only asking that stupid question to make him tell her something about just what he is cooking for her – she has yet to find out the exact thing that she needs to do in order to make him reveal all of his exciting secrets. She keeps trying.
"We are eating at Casa Enjolras," is the response from the kitchen. "The first dish will be served in about a minute. Please make yourself comfortable until then."
A minute is too long to wait for this, but she is just going to try to keep her mind occupied long enough. But all she can come up with as a topic for her mind to occupy itself with is the man currently cooking her dinner, and the way that she still has so many new things to find out about him. There are still so many things to learn.
"I didn't know you could cook," she ponders the idea out loud.
"I don't often have the time for it," he tells her, still in a raised voice.
He is still hiding in the kitchen, and the anticipation is going to kill her because the best smells are still coming from the kitchen and there is nothing she can do but wait.
"Well, lucky me, I guess," she is trying to tease him.
"Please withhold your judgment until you've actually tasted some of my food," he says.
"It's very kind of you to bother," she has to let him know that this means a lot to her.
No one has cooked for her in years – not since she still loved her parents and she was too young to cook her own dinners. That means it was probably close to twenty years ago, and that tells her that while her life is sad and pathetic, she now has someone who is willing to go the distance to make her feel better. He is willing to be a true friend to her, and he is doing these adorable things that only make her care about him more.
That is definitely going to be a problem.
"I couldn't have my favorite partner in crime spending her birthday in her apartment, alone," Enjolras sounds almost offended at the mere idea, and she smiles at that.
There have been many birthdays that she had to spend alone, and while she did not particularly want to repeat that experience, she was fully prepared to spend another night in bed with a glass of wine and a sappy movie.
"I hope I am your only partner in crime," she just wants to be special to him.
"Let me have my secrets," he offers her, "and I will let you have yours."
Only she really does not want him to keep any more secrets from her, just as she does not want to keep secrets from him any longer. She has these feelings that she does not want to talk about, but she also really wants to tell him about them so that they can move on from this madness and stay good friends. It is never going to be anything other than friendship between the two of them, and if she tells him about these feelings she will be able to get over them and move on yet again. She can do this!
"Is the food ready?" she whines, not wanting to think anymore.
"Good things come to those who wait," he sounds teasing even from far away.
She has waited so very long for Marius to finally see her, and that all came to nothing in the end, so she doubts that this stupid saying is even remotely true. Still, she can wait the last stupid seconds for her dinner, because that at least might live up to expectations.
"I have waited enough," she cannot make herself sound as teasing as she wants to sound.
"Lucky for you, the food is actually done," he speaks and the door to the kitchen opens.
Enjolras comes out, carrying two gigantic plates of food, both of them covered by one of those fancy cover things that she could never afford herself. The whole scene looks as if they are at a fancy restaurant in a movie, and she wants to go along with that stupid fantasy scenario for as long as she possibly can. It is her only way of having a date with him, no matter that they are once again only pretending – or that it is all in her head.
"Food!" she grins at the bringer of lovely food as she bounces in her seat.
"I see that the anticipation has been getting to you," he seems amused at her antics.
He puts the plates down and lets her uncover them, revealing a bowl of delicious-looking soup on one side of the gigantic plate in front of her, and a dish of lasagna on the other side – and that is looking particularly mouthwatering. Honestly, this is her favorite kind of food, so she has eaten it about a million times in her life, but somehow this is already more appetizing than anything that she has ever put in her mouth – and she is not even trying to be dirty right now, though there are some other things that she would also want to put in her mouth if they ever chose to go down that road.
"You did not buy this at a restaurant, did you?" she just has to make sure.
"I am flattered that you have this much faith in me and my abilities," he seems insulted at the thought of him lying to her about this – so it has to be all his.
There are already so many thinks that she appreciates about him, and now she finds out that he is an amazing cook too – honestly, she is starting to doubt that there are any good qualities left for the other men in the world.
"That was my way of saying that it looks really good," she tries to make him see.
"Just wait until you try the main course," he, of course, has to take his revenge on her.
The lasagna is already tempting her, even though the delicious soup is just sliding down her throat and she is enjoying it so much that there might have been some special sound effects after she took the first bite. He is looking at her while she is eating, and she knows that he cannot be experiencing his own food in enough detail because he is too busy enjoying her eating experience. It is making her want to be even more obvious about her enjoyment, and that is just another slippery slope that she should avoid.
Still, there are too many things that she should avoid, and one of those things is sitting right in front of her, staring at her as if he would prefer to eat her instead of the delicious food in front of him. Okay, so the language she uses at this point is more than a bit graphic, but she cannot seem to think about anything other than the food and the man who made it – and for some reason that makes her so fucking horny.
"You mean the lasagna?" she is trying to stop staring at it. "It is lasagna, right?"
"It is," he confirms with an evil grin on his face. "I have a secret recipe."
In order to get to that perfect lasagna sooner, she basically gulps down her entrée so that she can get started. The first bite is basically a revelation, because this lasagna is the perfect mix of all of the flavors that are supposed to blend together in this recipe. There are the two different kinds of sauce mixing perfectly with the dough and the few vegetables and the meat. Oh, it is the most amazing thing that she has ever tasted.
"Where can I get the recipe?" she pleads with him, inhaling another bite.
There are still these looks from his side, and the way he is studying her should not be making her as hot as they are currently making her.
"It is an old family secret," he is just now finishing his soup, smiling proudly at her.
And he should have every damn right to be proud of this food, because holy crap she does not even have any words for how fucking amazing this stuff is! She wants to eat this and only this for the rest of her goddamn life! She would die happy!
She would also be about five hundred pounds, but somehow she cannot see that much of a problem with that if she gets to eat the perfect lasagna every day of her life. If Enjolras still wants her like that, things would be even more perfect – only he does not want her like that, or at least he will not acting on wanting her like that. There will only be looks and dark lusty gazes from his side – there will be no more making out and sweet kisses and hot touches from him. Is it hot in here or is that just in her head?
"This is fucking perfect!" she has the mouth of a sailor when she is particularly happy about something. "I'm dumping your couch and I'm marrying this lasagna."
After shooting a quick mental apology to that perfect couch, she takes another bite of the lasagna and confirms that she has definitely made the right choice. There might still be an affair with that couch at some point, but she is definitely keeping the lasagna around for as long as she can – which basically means Enjolras needs to cook for her forever.
If there is any kind of problem with that, she cannot see it. He has not yet decided to forego celibacy – even though she really wishes that he would – so they can probably stay mostly platonic friends for the rest of their lives. Even though she is going to have trouble getting over her stupid feelings for him, she can definitely live with having him near for the rest of their lives. She will take what she can get from him.
Whatever he wants to give her, she will gladly accept.
"I guess I'm flattered," he does not seem to understand her deeper meaning.
"You should be," she is trying to convey said meaning without actually having to say it.
There is no lasagna without the sexy cook responsible for creating said lasagna, so he has to understand that loving his lasagna is just another of her emotionally stunted jokes to hide how much she is starting to love him. There, she said the l-word and it did not get any less terrifying to think about it. She is still so scared of ruining this weeks-old friendship over her stupid feelings – will she ever really learn?
It is just another version of her previous love for Marius, and she feels so stupid because she has once again fallen for a man who is just not going to love her back.
"You love my lasagna more than me," he is actually trying to copy her pout
Still, his comment definitely makes things more awkward between the two of them, so she tries to keep herself busy by stuffing her face with lasagna. While the pout was totally adorable, it also made her want to pull his face to hers and show him something else that he could do with that mouth. Oh, her mind is long gone and there are only dirty things left in it, so she is just going to stop talking until she gets herself under control again. Another bite of lasagna goes into her mouth under his watchful gaze.
"What's for dessert?" she attempts to distract him from his close study of her.
There is no way that her attempt is actually working, because he is still staring at her and he does not show any signs of letting up. The heated look did change to something a lot more puzzled – but she has seen that look on his face directed at her many times before, because he still does not seem to know what he should think about her.
"You haven't even finished your lasagna yet," he does not understand this at all.
Not being done with her main course does not mean that she is any less excited about finding out what he has planned for them after the lasagna of her dreams. She wants this evening to never end – no matter how ridiculous that might sound.
"I really wanna know," she tries a revenge of the pout.
His eyes now focus on her lips, and while that really was not her intent – she can still consider it a very nice bonus. She would happily trade in all the food in the world if he would only kiss her and return her stupid feelings, but she also knows that the mere idea of that is silly and all her wishful thinking is not going to change that. There is nothing that she can say to make him change his mind, and she has to remember that.
"Tiramisu," he caves in immediately after she gives him that look.
Hot damn, she might have to change her food husband from the lasagna to the dessert if it is as good as she is hoping it will be. Is it even possible for the tiramisu to be better than the lasagna? She does not know, but she is almost dying to find out.
But what can she even say to him now? She has to get the feelings out at some point, preferably before she starts to resent him as much as she did Marius. It is ridiculous of her to blame him even the slightest bit, but she has no idea how to deal with this in any other way. She is so tired of having to move on because she keeps falling for all the wrong guys. Her track record: her best friend who only saw her as a sister, the neighborhood criminal, and now her celibate fake boyfriend. She is doing so well that she does not even want to know how she will top this in the future.
Honestly, if this is all there is to it, she is never going to fall in love again.
"Where did you get my wish list of perfect Italian food?" she has her suspicions.
"Marius told me that you like Italian food," he confirms these suspicions right away.
It is nice of Marius to want to help Enjolras improve their relationship – because neither of them has told Marius that they were in fact lying to him about their love affair. He will probably go on believing in this relationship long after they do, but she just cannot reveal this lie to her former best friend. Eventually she will have to stage a break-up talk, but she is going to attempt to actually get over her stupid feelings first.
She stares at her almost empty plate, regretting that the lasagna is almost gone, and hoping that the tiramisu will be equally amazing. There are still a few bites left to enjoy, so she takes her time with them to savor the experience as much as she can, because she really does not want the night to ever end. It is the best birthday that she has had in years, maybe the best birthday that she has ever had, and she is already dreading the moment in which the bubble bursts and real life takes over again. She is never allowed to be happy for very long, and while the nagging of her unreturned feelings is painful, he still makes her pretty happy just by being her friend. That should be enough.
All that she needs to remember is how much friendship can mean.
"Yes, of course he would tell you," she had already figured that out.
Her jacket is shrugged off and hanging over the back of her chair, and yet she does not feel chilly in her summer dress. His gaze warms her, and it almost makes her more than a bit uncomfortable at this point – she cannot find a proper position to sit in, and her body is itching with the urge to just make a move on him. It gets worse and worse and the food is gone, and with it her last excuse to keep looking away.
"I chose the dishes on my own," he vows. "And I think I made the right choices."
She is having serious problems now that she has finished the lasagna and she has no other excuse to keep herself from jumping him and thanking him for the food in a very creative manner – even though he is walking back to the kitchen to get the dessert that she has not even tried yet. She would have no problem with waiting for dessert.
"You will now be forced to keep me in lasagna and yummy Italian desserts for the rest of my life," she smiles at him. "There is no other choice left for you."
It is never going to happen, and she knows that much, but she is going to let herself dream a bit longer – as a birthday present to herself. It is the best present that she can give herself after the year she has had, and she is going to keep believing until the day ends and she wakes up alone and with no reason left to keep thinking that it will one day happen for her. Because while there are still happy endings in this world, she has yet to find a reason for her to deserve something like that. It will not happen.
"Try the tiramisu," he orders gently.
He is back from his quick trip to the kitchen, and there is tiramisu in front of her that looks better than any food she has ever seen before. He even has a little candle placed on top of it, and he has lit it. She assumes that he wants her to blow out the candle.
"Make a wish," he tells her, noticing her staring at the candle.
"Are you serious?" she asks him, because she finds the tradition ridiculous.
Even if she makes a wish on this stupid candle that he got from some random store – it has no magical powers whatsoever – that wish is just never going to come true. Sadly enough, she already knows what she would wish, and she knows that cannot happen.
"Humor me, please," he is smiling at her, his eyes shining.
She lowers herself a bit to get closer to that one shining candle, and she thinks of her wish in her head. If wishes were even remotely likely to come true, she would wish for the two of them together forever – she would wish for her happily ever after to be with him. She really does think that they could make this work, at least, if he really did want her that way. So she closes her eyes, she holds her wish close to her heart, and she gently blows, hoping that this will extinguish the candle and make her wish come true.
Her eyes open at the soft chuckles coming from Enjolras' direction, and when she sees the extinguished candle, there is a smile on her face as well.
"What did you wish for?" he asks, and she immediately looks him in the eye.
Right at that moment, when he is looking at her with that smile of his, he is her every wish come true. His curls are dancing with his laughter, and his blue eyes shine so brightly that she is drawn in without even thinking about it too much.
"I can't tell you what I wished for," she exaggerates her frustration.
Telling him about her stupid wish would not only embarrass her, it would also mean that the wish would never happen. And while she knows that it would never happen in the real world, she is definitely still holding out hope for him. When he looks at her that way, all she wants to do is hold him and kiss him and love him.
"Can I convince you in any way?" he is now openly flirting with her.
"I will let you know," she plays hard to get just a little, because the flirting is nice.
There is a long and extensive list of things that he could do to convince her to tell him everything that he wants to know. A lot of these things are sexual in nature – because her sexual frustration still has not been dealt with – but the number one on the list has little to do with sex. If he tells her he feels the same and he wants to be with her, she will tell him everything that he has ever wanted to know about her.
"Maybe the dessert will help?" he asks, still a playful tone to his voice.
She is almost hesitating at ruining the perfection that is currently in front of her by taking a bite out of it, only wasting this beautiful and undoubtedly delicious food would be the biggest waste ever in her life, so she is not going to deny herself this amazing food any longer. She picks up her spoon, takes a bite and –
"Oh my fucking god," she lets out a pretty indecent moan. "This is amazing!"
She is almost too caught up in her food to notice that Enjolras is uncomfortably shifting in his chair after her obvious sound of enjoyment. She is not faking any more sounds for his enjoyment, but there might be more audible evidence of her enjoyment anyway, because the food is just that good and she cannot contain herself.
"Can you not?" he has to interrupt her private time with her dessert.
"Sorry," she is not particularly sorry about this, actually. "I will try to tone down my Meg Ryan impression. The food is just so good. Honestly. I'm never getting rid of you."
That last bit slipped out before she had the chance to censor her speech, and she is left trying really hard to hide the blush that wants to come out. She cannot keep telling him stupid things like that if she wants to respect his celibacy.
Which is what she must do, because true friends respect each other's choices, and no matter how much she wants to rip his clothes off and take him on his beautiful couch, she knows that he would not want her to do that. He made the choice to stay away from these distractions, and she must try not to distract him so purposefully. She has already made him do things that he did not originally want to – she does not believe that he faked their make out scenes for his own reasons. He did that for her, right?
"You are only keeping me around for the food?" he makes a joke of it.
"And for the post-eating cuddle," she is asking for trouble and she knows it.
Even though he should probably reject her outright at this point, he stands up and holds out a hand for her to take. She takes it without hesitation, because the tiramisu is gone anyway and she just wants him to hold her so she can pretend for a bit longer that he feels the same way about her that she feels about him.
"Movie?" he asks, and she nods, because he is just being so perfect.
She crawls onto the best couch in the world as he puts in a random DVD – she trusts him to pick something good. The couch is still her favorite thing to lie down on, so she has high expectations of cuddling taking place on this piece of furniture.
The DVD starts playing, the music swells and she immediately knows that he has gone for a classic. The intro music of Casablanca is playing – she knows her soundtracks quite well, and the drama club at her school put it on a few years ago. She supported that decision wholeheartedly, because it is and always will be one of her favorites.
"You chose well," she compliments as he comes back to the couch.
It is a pretty big couch, so there should be more than enough room for the two of them to sit comfortably, but she is not intending to just sit next to him when she could actually be in his arms for a little while. There has to be a lot of physical contact – there is no post-dinner cuddle party without actual contact. She remembers being in bed together in his arms, and she just wants to feel like that again.
That time was one of the few times in her life that she felt safe, and not even the discovery that Enjolras was the one who scared off Montparnasse – meaning that he had a hidden dark and/or violent side – could make that any less awesome. He made her feel safe and warm and protected, and she does not get to feel like that often, so when it comes to the cuddling, the chemistry is just a nice bonus for her. The warmth and the feeling of safety will always have the highest priority.
He situates himself on the opposite side of the couch, and she is not going to allow that for any amount of time, so she climbs over him, trying her best imitation of a panther that ends with her on top of him and the two of them touching in every possible way.
"What are you doing?" he does not seem to get the hint.
"Cuddling," is her one word explanation, which is all that he is going to get.
It is then that he finally seems to understand that she was serious about doing this when she mentioned it earlier, because he shifts to accommodate her, laying down on his back and letting her lay down between his legs, happily shifting to her side so that she can cuddle up to his solid chest. She hopes that it is as comfortable for him as it is for her, because she feels safe and warm the very second his arms wrap around her.
"Can I pay attention to the movie?" he teases, his fingers staying still on her waist.
She wishes he would gently rub her skin again, but that is probably one of those things that they can only do when they are pretending to be a couple – even though they were not really pretending at all of those particular times. Still, she knows that she cannot ask those things of him now, so she is just going to be content with what she can get from him now that they are just mostly platonic friends.
"Movie?" she asks as if she does not even know what is going on. "What movie?"
He grins and the reverberations run through his chest and make her pillow vibrate the slightest bit. It is odd, but not unpleasant, so she runs her hand down his side to make him move again – it only serves to almost make him jump.
"Éponine," he chides her gently, so she has to try it again.
This time his body actually bucks up into hers – so he is a bit ticklish after all – and the sensation makes her shiver, and she is sure that he notices that there are goose bumps appearing on her skin in response as the shiver fades away again. Her skin feels extra sensitive, and even the slightest move of his fingers against her skin makes it worse.
"Let's just watch the movie," she turns her face to the screen.
There is a soft chuckle coming from him, because she is doing the complete opposite of what she just said would be happening. Before, she was the one who was making jokes about being distracted from the happenings around them, and now she is the one who wants to watch the movie without too many distractions from the chemistry running through their bodies. Her nerve endings are reacting so strongly that every move sends a wave of excitement through her entire body and she cannot deal with that.
The chemistry is just too strong, so she stays silent and still and lets the movie play on and on, until Rick first sees the letters, and she actually gets more invested in the story as Sam the pianist begins playing. She is waiting for that special song, and her heart starts to race as she feels Ilsa's introduction getting closer and closer. Still, the conversations with Rick's other patrons and friends lull her back into that false sense of security that the movie always manages. She is lured in by talk of the city and mysterious letters that save people – and then the first shots are fired.
"Oh," she gasps in a soft whisper.
Right then, she feels a gentle touch on her hair, and she has to force herself to keep breathing steadily and regularly. Her hair is naturally only a bit wavy, and he appears to be trying to create curls out of these waves by winding a lock of hair around his finger in a rather absentminded fashion. It just feels so domestic that she wants to scream from the rooftops that he might actually feel something for her.
On the screen, Elsa and her husband are actually at Rick's, but she is having trouble focusing on that because he is still touching her so gently. His hands are not even on her skin, and yet she feels like she is igniting from the inside out.
Ilsa is talking to dear Sam, and she is just waiting for the famous lines
"Play it once, Sam," Ingrid Bergman speaks. "For old time's sake."
She mouths the line right along with her and waits to hear "As Time Goes By", that iconic song that tells so much of this relationship between Rick and Ilsa. The chemistry that she now knows so well is there between the fictional lovers as well; only there is too much pain, regret, and betrayal between those two for things to be okay between them.
He is humming the song along with her, seemingly sad when it ends and things turn sour again – just waiting until Sam performs a reprise for Rick alone, because the man is stubborn and he needs to torture himself with those old memories.
"We are not going to dance," her 'Jolras tells her as they view these memories.
"Just be quiet," she tells him, letting herself get captivated by the movie.
Because Ilsa is gone within minutes, and she feels herself getting sadder as she sees Rick dealing with the pain of being left behind – something that she knows all too well.
The deep breath she takes to avoid wanting to cry with remembering the stupid things in her past, that breath turns into something unrecognizable as he starts to run his hands up and down her back. Apparently her hair is now sufficiently curly, because he has moved on to a different pastime as they continue to at least attempt to focus on the classic that is still playing. But she has no idea what is going on in the movie.
He is too much of a distraction, and Humphrey Bogart could be doing a naked cancan for all she knows, because his hands are on her body and she is just so hot. She just wants to take off her silly summer dress and let his hands roam over her bare skin – this is not even a particular sexual gesture, but he still manages to turn her on.
One sweep down to her lower back suddenly changes direction and all of a sudden, his fingers are running up and down her arm, soft as angel wings. She can hear the Marseillaise playing in the background as the movie goes on and on, but her focus has narrowed to those fingers tingling on her skin as they move up and down her arm – and he has shown no sign that he even knows what he is doing to her.
The feelings are not letting up and she does not know if she wants him to stop doing it to her or if she wants him to continue until she is either asleep or too strung out to consider the consequences of asking him for his magic fingers in other places.
She finds a happy middle in this situation by reaching for his hand to lace her fingers with his, and she holds her breath hoping that he will accept this gesture.
"Just keep breathing," he gently teases, and she takes another deep breath.
They both start moving at the same time, trying to make each other as comfortable as they possibly can. The end result of their movements is that her head is comfortably resting on his chest, while his chin is on top of her head. He has one of his arms in her hair and she has never felt this way before in her entire life.
"We're missing the movie," she giggles, not even caring anymore.
"What movie?" he teases in return as he plants a soft kiss in her hair.
She looks up at him then, so surprised that he would dare to kiss her, and even more surprised that he would want to do it. He has never really taken the initiative in their fake romantic interactions, and for him to kiss her – even if it is just on her hair – is a huge deal for the two of them. As she sees his blue, blue eyes slowly darkening, with the occasional reflection of the black and white of the movie, she is imagining how this moment between the two of them would continue if he felt that way about her.
"Movie?" she is legitimately confused about her own name at this point.
Apparently her life has turned into a movie, because she is now looking into his eyes and he appears to be bridging the gap between the two of them.
His lips touch hers and the world is different because his lips are soft and they are touching hers, albeit tentatively. Their mouths move slowly and gently, and it just might be the most perfect kiss that she has ever been a part of – because he made the first move, and he actually wanted to kiss her. He wanted her that way, and that is one of the biggest revelations she has ever had to deal with.
"Hey," she smiles at him as he ends the kiss so they can breath.
"Hey," he returns, leaning in for another kiss.
His phone suddenly rings, and the moment shatters – possibly never to return again.
AN: Yes, we have a cliff-hanger. Blame Mary for that one! Or just wait 2 or 3 days for the next chapter. It's not the end of the world, I promise.