Grantaire let out a strangled, half-choking noise when his eyes fell upon Enjolras, who was looking at the group assembled around the campfire. He addressed them each in turn, even giving Grantaire a small smile before his eyes fell upon the half-empty bottle clutched in the drunk's left hand. That prompted the disappearance of his smile and thinned his mouth into a straight line.

In response to Enjolras's clearly disappointed expression, Grantaire merely raised his bottle in a mock-toast to him and returned to watching the fire dance.

"Well, you actually decided to join us? I'm impressed," Éponine remarked, sounding as genuinely surprised as the rest of them were.

Enjolras took a few steps forward, and was met by Bahorel, who slung an arm around his shoulders and led him to the picnic table, which had been pulled towards the fire. "We didn't think you'd come! But it's good to have you, mate."

"Yes, well, I finished my assignments and decided that it might be a nice idea. I didn't expect it to be so cold, though," Enjolras said, pulling his jacket closer around himself. "I thought it might be a nice way to unwind."

Grantaire couldn't really see Enjolras "unwinding" without his laptop a few feet away, but he held his tongue in favour of taking another drink from the bottle in his hand. He studied Enjolras in the firelight and yearned, not for the first time that day, for a paintbrush and canvas.

As the night went on, the sky filled with laughter while everyone drank and shared stories around the fire. It wasn't until Grantaire nearly started dozing off in his chair that everyone started going into their respective tents for the night.

Before Combeferre went off into his tent, he turned to Enjolras. "I don't suppose you brought a tent?"

Enjolras looked startled and glanced around the two campsites. "Er...no?"

"Well. I guess you'll have to sleep outside...hopefully no animals decide to visit our campsite…" Éponine said, voice laced with doubt.

Grantaire couldn't help but laugh at the reaction she got; he had never before seen Enjolras look frightened. He could reduce those who dared to challenge his beliefs to tears, but he wouldn't be able to win a debate against a hungry bear.

Prouvaire, too, saw the look of horror on Enjolras's face. "Don't tease him, Éponine!" he hissed.

Éponine responded by poking Enjolras's cheek playfully. "I'm only joking, silly. We'll find a spot for you somewhere…" she trailed off and looked around the campsites. Her eyes fell upon her own tent and the corners of her lips lifted into a smile. She switched her gaze to Grantaire and gave him a meaningful look.

Grantaire groaned inwardly. He regretted what he was saying as the words left his mouth. "There's...room in my tent, if you don't mind sharing," he said. He couldn't imagine Enjolras saying yes, after all he knew that he really didn't like him, and definitely wouldn't want to share a tent with him, and Enjolras could easily just switch with Éponine so then he could share with Combeferre, and-

"That sounds fine."

The reply from Enjolras effectively cut off Grantaire's internal monologue and rendered him speechless. He was grateful for Éponine's interjection, something along the lines of "It's settled then!", because he couldn't have thought of any semi-eloquent response, himself. He just settled for nodding and trying to convey his thanks to Éponine with his eyes.

After a few minutes that mostly consisted of Grantaire, Enjolras, Éponine, and Bahorel staring into the fire, Grantaire felt his eyes growing heavy. "I think I'm going to turn in," he announced.

"Night, hon," Éponine said. He could hear the other two murmur their "goodnights" from their places by the fire as he made his way to the tent. Once he was inside and had zipped up the tent, he curled up underneath the blankets, and soon after he heard footsteps approaching. He couldn't think of anything to say to his new tentmate, so he just shut his eyes and tried to relax his breathing.

There was very little noise once he was joined by Enjolras in the tent, just the open and close of the zipper and Enjolras clearing his throat quietly. Grantaire tried not to roll to the other side of the air bed once Enjolras's weight descended upon the mattress, but it was most likely his stillness that broke his façade of unconsciousness. Enjolras simply faced the opposite side of the tent and muttered, "Sleep well, Grantaire."

Grantaire woke up with a sore back and an arm that was tingling with pins and needles. The first was likely the result sleeping on a half-deflated air mattress.

The second was most definitely caused by the sleeping blond on top of his arm.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.Grantaire knew that it would be impossible to change positions without waking Enjolras, which would undoubtedly lead to a rather uncomfortable conversation and Enjolras being the unfortunate victim of Grantaire's morning breath.

Grantaire considered just pulling his arm out quickly. While it would definitely wake Enjolras, he would also might be able to get off of the air mattress before his tentmate turned around and saw that Grantaire was about two inches away from his face.

Just as he was about to move, Enjolras let out a small groan in his sleep and rolled over, and Grantaire could feel his heart stop in his chest. He knew that he had about 0.6 seconds before he did something stupid that would ruin this moment, but he had to spend that time simply looking at Enjolras.

Enjolras was beautiful. Grantaire knew that; he ifelt/ithat everyday that he was near him. However, he had never had the chance to see Enjolras when he was sleeping and vulnerable. The way that his lips were slightly parted, his slight exhales hitting Grantaire's collarbone, combined with the way that a few curls were falling over his forehead gave Grantaire the urge to curl his other arm around him to pull him closer to his chest and never let go.

Just as Grantaire had predicted, it couldn't last for long. Enjolras let out a small groan which slowly turned into a sigh (Grantaire would sooner die than forget that noise) and opened his eyes. Grantaire saw the confusion flicker across Enjolras's face, but before he knew it, he could see his own reflection in the other man's widened eyes.

"Grantaire?" he said, voice groggy from sleep. He lifted one hand to rub at his eyes, his knuckles nearly brushing Grantaire's nose as he did so. It was almost as if Enjolras only then realized their proximity, or maybe he could smell his bed mate's breath when he exhaled, because he quickly rose from the bed. Grantaire nearly cried out in relief from the weight being lifted from his now-dead arm.

"You move around too much in your sleep," Grantaire said, trying to ease the discomfort that they both felt.

Enjolras snorted. "It's hard not to when the bed itself won't stay still," he replied, stretching his arms over his head and Grantaire tried desperately not to stare because good Lord, he could see the trail of coarse hair that disappeared below Enjolras's waistline.

Grantaire tried to divert his own attention to massaging his arm to return feeling to it. He too rose to a sitting position and couldn't stop an enormous yawn from escaping him. The pair were saved from any future uncomfortable silences when someone came rushing to their tent and unzipped the door.

"Breakfast is ready!" a smiling Éponine announced. Grantaire could not have possibly heard better news, since it provided him with an easy escape. He was up and out of the tent before Enjolras could even respond to Éponine.

Grantaire was followed by Éponine shortly after, concern creasing her brow. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Grantaire tried to hide a smile. It didn't happen often, but Éponine had a natural, mothering instinct that came out when she was around Grantaire. "It's nothing," he replied. "It was just a little bit awkward last night."

"We can always switch if you want to, 'Taire. Enjolras and Combeferre would probably be more comfortable sharing, and God knows that you and I've shared enough times."

Grantaire only shook his head in response. Before anything else could be said, he was immediately distracted by what everyone else was cooking over the campfire. "Is that bacon?"