Sunlight was streaming through an irritatingly large gap between the curtains and Enjolras winced as he scrunched his eyes further shut. Groaning softly, he shifted his body to get into a more comfortable position. His bed felt harder than usual, and since when did he sleep in an almost upright sitting position? It wasn't until he turned his head and felt hair tickling his nose, did he remember where he was and cracked his eyes open slightly to see if he was right.

On the floor, leaning against the sofa, mouth slightly agape and looking perfectly at peace, was Grantaire. Part of his curls had been flattened, presumably by Enjolras' head leaning on him, but the rest were just as wild as he claimed to be.

Enjolras felt something in his chest tighten as he looked at the cynic. No, his cynic. Could he even say that now?

He hoped so.

Enjolras cringed and buried his head in his hands, careful not to rouse Grantaire, as he though of the night before. That wasn't how he'd have intended things to go. The sudden declaration of affection was so cliched that he'd half expected to be laughed out of the room. And of course - oh God - the kissing.

Was he a good kisser? Was he a bad kisser? He'd never been involved with anyone before so he wouldn't so. It must have been awkward. It couldn't have been anything but awkward.

He could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment.

But Grantaire... Responded?

Yes, he could definitely remember Grantaire's bewhildered but enthusiastic response. He wouldn't be sitting next to him otherwise. Enjolras took this opportunity to study Grantaire for the first time since they'd been alone together, without anyone to catch him staring (including Grantaire).

Dark, almost black hair fell across his forhead and into his eyes in loose corkscrew-like curls. Enjolras thought of how it had felt running his fingers through it, much softer than he'd assumed. Some strands lay on Grantaire's thick eyebrows. His eyes were rather deep set and when open Enjolras could remember the pale irisis. They were such a combination of blue and grey that they almost appeared clear in certain light, unless they were clouded over in an inebriated haze. They didn't quite hold the same piercing blue gaze Enjolras' own did, but they were definitely something he thought should be marvelled at.

There were definite dark circles to be seen under them as Enjolras looked closer. He didn't want to think about how little Grantaire must be sleeping for them to become so prominent.

His nose could be considered rather prominent too. Not to say that it was overly large, it was the way in which it was slightly crooked. Enjolras could remember how it was broken back in their teens; Grantaire was a boxer, Bahorel found out, they decided to go a few rounds. He didn't know if that was when he started to realise he cared for Grantaire, he just knew he didn't like seeing the way he winced as he sat in the school nurse's office, nose swollen and blood still trickling out. He wondered, did Grantaire still box? He knew he was still an artist, and how well read he was, but how much more had he neglected to find out? It wasn't that he didn't remember - he remembered a lot of things about Grantaire - he'd just never been able to just go and ask these sorts of things.

He was starting to understand his friends' reactions to his epiphany last night.

Rather reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from Grantaire's still sleeping form and glanced around the room. It was alright really; television, coffee table, sofa. The basics of a living room. Although, the addition of at least a dozen empty bottles and cans on the table wasn't alright. Not in Enjolras' books at least. They'd have to talk about that, considering their new relationship.

Relationship. Yeah, that was definitely new. Was that what they were in now? Enjolras found himself hoping it was.

Taking one last look at Grantaire, who was still sound asleep, Enjolras carefully got up off the floor. He made sure to shift Grantaire into a more comfortable position, so he didn't fall flat on his face.

It was morning and Enjolras was pretty used to his routine of making coffee or tea when he woke up. He supposed he'd try Grantaire's kitched, it gave him an opportunity to explore as well.

Halfway there he heard a noise somewhere between a moan and a snort. Looking around he saw Grantaire now splayed out on his back, with his mouth undecided as to whether it wanted to be open or closed. The noise was coming from him.

He snored like a damn pig.

It was unbelievable. It was obscene. It was maddening. It was Enjolras' new favourite sound.

*Shuffles in quietly* Sooooo... uhhh... *swallows nervously* it's been a while...?

Yeah, don't know why I haven't posted anything because I've literally had half of this chapter written for weeks but not finished it. I think I had a bit of a block... Still do actually... This is kinda just a bit of fluffyness here to be honest and I hope it's good and characterisation is okay? Literally the only reason I was able to get off my arse and write this was because of George Blagden being a dork on youtube... I think he's just become my favourite person.

Anyway let's get on with review replies:

First off, I'm gonna have to say this again, but there will be little to no Eponine in this fic, just mentions and glimpses and definitely not a pairing. Sorry, it's just not what I'd like to write about, and if that comes off as selfish then I'm sorry again. True, I have read some good fics that involve that as a side thing but I don't personally want to write that.

Thanks for all the good things you're saying about the previous chapters and where things are going! Also, yes Marius, you are in deep shit now... just wait 'til you meet her father.

- Callie