#laviedure; 8

[marbresauvage]

Un, Deux, Trois // 🐻

tl;dr: okay, so here’s the sitch. we wanted to get enjolras drunk, and have snuggles between our three boys. thing is, they were like ‘yo we gotta confeSS OUR EMOTIONS’ and went 'ok no we’re not getting drunk we just gon snuggle’ so. uh. oops precursor to poly?

setting: 4th of april, aka the day when bahorel and grantaire got Cosy™ in the pub (as noted in the gossip mag apparently?), after they came back to the apartment

with: enjolras, grantaire ( @la-vie-dure ), and bahorel ( @ofscarletopinions )

content warnings: alcohol

Grantaire fought with the key. Bahorel and him had left the pub, both ​slightly​ drunk, so getting the key into the lock was hard. Once he opened the door, he just stumbled in. ​"We have returned home, mon amour."​

Bahorel leaned heavily on the door frame, he felt that everything he did was heavy. Why was he so big, honestly, if he fell on the others he was half worried he'd crush them. The door was nice and sturdy though, he felt less concerned. "I feel left out already. Mon amour! Love, a many splendor thing! Love lifts us up where we belong! All we need is love!"

Enjolras was still working, letting out a 'hm' noise as the cats stirred when the door opened, not noticing himself that his humans had returned. Indeed, he hadn't even known that Bahorel had come back, and the fellow had been returned for long enough that he really should have known, considering how, y'know, he lived with him. This was what happened when work. Utter Absorption™.

Grantaire flushed slightly at Bahorel's words and he tried to punch him against his arm but his strength was not really there so he just... did not. "Do not feel left out, there is room enough for you, too." He said as he patted his chest above where his heart was. Stumbling into the living room, he glanced at Enjolras. "You should take a break and bestow your lovely presence upon us."

Bahorel grinned at Grantaire and let himself bump into him as he walked, a chin tucked against his shoulder and a sloppy kiss brushed over what he could reach before he was quite literally invading Enjolras' personal space, sliding to half drape over the arm of the couch and half sprawl on the floor, limbs thrown to rest on Enjolras. "I've returned! I bring gifts! Gifts of good company and good drink. Join us, mon ami!" He slid slightly off the couch, his head now resting on Enjolras' shoulder against the end of his curls

Enjolras could smell alcohol, but frankly, that was nothing new and the smell didn't really bother him too much. So, when there was a presence on his shoulder and limbs across his person, he naturally assumed it was Grantaire and continued to work until he reached an appropriate stopping point, whereupon he finally closed the laptop and looked up. And stopped short, in surprise. "You're not Grantaire." He squinted, pulling back a little to consider the other, looking up at Grantaire, then back down at who he now realised to be Bahorel. "Oh. You're back."

Grantaire laughed at Enjolras' confusion. "Mon ami," he started, glancing at Bahorel before letting himself flop down next to Enjolras and letting his own head drop onto his other shoulder. "It seems as if we were both wrong. Enjolras has not simply forgotten to mention your return, he has not even realized it. Now that is a new level on the Enjolras-meter that I had not thought of yet." Reaching with his hand across of Enjolras, he patted whichever part he could reach of Bahorel, "But fret not, mon ami, I have noticed your return. Very much so."

Bahorel proceeded to pout nonetheless and pressed a tight lipped kiss to the small circle of skin behind Enjolras ear, one long arm reached around to fall on Grantaire. "Enjolras has no time for his roommate!" It's spoken very grandly, and also, very drunkenly, "--only work! Mon ami, I have missed you, your eagle eye concentration, for all that it leads to this. Worry not though, what pain you might have inflicted has been soothed by R, may your wine be plentiful and your laugh jolly."

Enjolras cocked his head, considering the two revolutionaries draped across him, and settled back, aware that this was his fate. They were both drunk. This was fine. "...I have missed you too?" He turned his head to kiss Grantaire's forehead, then turned to kiss Bahorel's also, his hands still upon his laptop due to having just been using it. "What's happening?"

Grantaire turned his head to press a kiss onto Enjolras' neck before grinning at him. "Drinking is happening. Join us. Take a break. Celebrate! For our lost ami has returned to us!"

Bahorel laughed at the other two, his head thrown back to press against Enjolras even as he moved to stand, he shook, barely and grinned down at the other two, suddenly, even more aware of his own height. "I have wine, I'll get the glasses and pour, put your work away, I doubt you'll get back to it tonight." With that he dropped a lingering kiss to both of their foreheads and moved to the kitchen.

Enjolras blinked, still somewhat confused, and obediently put his laptop beneath the coffee table, alongside the various notepads and work stuff before he sat back against Grantaire, taking his hand in his own due primarily to that being his natural state of being. "What ​day​ is it?"

Grantaire linked his fingers with Enjolras' and just fondly shook his head. "Wednesday. It has been a while since I saw your handsome face, you need to learn to not let yourself be completely absorbed with your work. I miss seeing you ​and​ having your attention."

Bahorel returned triumphant with drinks and kisses pressed to the top of their heads, blond and brunette, before he passed off the glasses. "Cherry wine, mon amis, I hear it's something of a delicacy." He pressed himself to Enjolras side, a leg kicked out to lay over Grantaire's own. "Together again."

Enjolras was sandwiched between the two, but found little in this circumstance to complain about. "I cannot say I know what is happening, but alright."

Grantaire took the glass with his free hand and tried to sit up slightly, all the while balancing the glass and not letting go of Enjolras' hand. "I am looking forward to trying this delicacy," he said as he raised his glass to not only look at the wine but also clink glasses with the other two. "Just join in. Drink to us being reunited."

Bahorel tapped his glass against Grantaires and grinned at Enjolras, loose limbed and warm, both from drink and the company of good friends. "Drink. Be merry. We have eachother and all is well, think, for tonight, on nothing but joy. What's happening mon ami, is friendship." He took a drink from his glass.

Enjolras sniffed at the wine, a little...not ​nervous​ or anything, just...nervous. What? He wasn't a drinker. "I'm not sure we have the same definitions of friendship. But, if that is what it is to you, very well. I suppose..." He took a little sip. Itty bitty. Teeny weenie. It was a very smol sip. It tasted weird. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Grantaire took a drink of his own glass, letting the liquid settle on his tongue before swallowing it. "This was a very good choice," he commented, deciding to merely hide his amusement about the 'friendship' commentary. "I like the full-fruit flavor of it." He turned to look at Enjolras. "This should not be considered a sip of the wine. Try more."

Bahorel laughed, "perhaps not friendship then, what's happening now is, camaraderie. Caring. Call it what you will, but we all know the feelings we have." He licked his lips and let the taste linger on his tongue, "drink Mon Ami, in time it will taste less like vinegar and more like the cherries we know it to be."

Enjolras exhaled, furrowing his brow as he smelled the wine again. "Life would be so much simpler if people just said what they thought and felt." Still, he did as bade, and tried a little more, this time actually lifting the glass to take an actual sip instead of just dipping his tongue into it. And yet, he made a face. Alcohol was weird.

Grantaire nodded and took another sip. "Being upfront would have saved us a few headaches, wouldn't it?" He commented before leaning over and nudging his nose against Enjolras' cheek. "You'll get used to the taste, just as Bahorel said."

Bahorel looked at Enjolras first, then leaned over to see R fully before he sat back, the tight line of his shoulders relaxing as he took another swallow of the wine. "I desire both of you romantically to be honest with you, as I mean, why not? Times have changed, the taboo is no longer a concern of mine." It was said casually, though he didn't quite look at either of them

Enjolras stopped. Then he placed his glass upon the coffee table, pressed a reassuring kiss to the back of Grantaire's hand, turned towards Bahorel, placed his newly-free hand upon the side of the bearded man's neck, and pressed a firm kiss to his lips as he squeezed Grantaire's hand.

Grantaire returned the squeeze of the hand and watched as Enjolras kissed Bahorel. It felt as if a weight that he had not been aware of was lifted off his shoulders. Setting his own glass down, he leaned over and let his hand run through Bahorel's hair. "It seems like Enjolras is not opposed and neither am I."

Bahorel lay his hand on Enjolras face and tilted his chin, deepening the kiss, letting the other taste the wine on his tongue. Still, he pressed forward, laid his hand on Grantaire's arm before withdrawing, "there is a circle here we must not let break. It's only fair to keep it even." He pressed a kiss to Grantaire's arm and smiled at the both. "No one opposes then?"

Enjolras was very pleased, yes. The wine tasted marginally better in the mouth of someone else. "Nobody opposes. We should still discuss this, however." A pause. "When you both have become sober. You're both drunk."

Grantaire shook his head. "Certainly not opposing." Glancing at Enjolras, he kissed him on the cheek before leaning over him to press a short kiss on Bahorel's lips. "I may be drunk but my mind is still functioning normally."

Bahorel hummed into the kiss before pulling back, "I'm very drunk. However, I've wanted this sober for weeks upon weeks, that has not changed in the last few hours." He pressed as close to the both of them as he comfortably could. "I have missed you both dearly."

Enjolras leaned upon Bahorel and pulled Grantaire close to his chest. "You're both still drunk. You may think this is a good idea now, but that does not mean you'll feel the same way when you sober up."

Grantaire easily leaned into Enjolras and shrugged. "I do not think that the feeling is going to change. For me, it also has been building up for a while. But if it makes you feel more at ease, we will speak about this tomorrow. After all, the feelings will not have changed, so we should not worry."

Bahorel smiled into the blond of Enjolras hair and reached past to lay a hand on Grantaire, "we shall speak of it tomorrow over breakfast, speaking for myself I'll say it's been too long a thing I've lived with for it to suddenly fade now that I might have it. It took a while but this, here, this is a proper homecoming."

Enjolras let out a little hum as he leaned into both of them. Yes. This was good. "Thank you, I appreciate this. Tomorrow, when sobriety is a thing. For now, however, I must ask...how long have you been back? Did you know about this? How did I not notice?"

Grantaire shook his head in amusement. "I found out about this when he decided to text me. I had not known before." While he spoke, he had leaned forward to try and reach his glass again.

Bahorel snorted, and shook his head, his eyes rolled and he took another swallow of his wine. "I've been back a week oh grand leader, a week in which I thought you'd told R I was back. Did you expect your dishes washed themselves?"

Enjolras blinked. A week? "...There are dishes?"

Grantaire laughed and took another sip of his wine. After all, they said they would be sober ​tomorrow​ . "You are unbelievable." He said with fondness.

Bahorel leaned forward to kiss his hair, voice almost unbearably fond, "were. There ​ were ​ dishes. And food to go on them. And drinks to go with them." He leaned to address Grantaire, "you see what I live with?"

Enjolras was kissed and pressed his thumb lightly against the back of Grantaire's hand, tracing absent patterns. "A lot has been happening. Dishes and food and drinks are secondary." Still, he held his humans closer, pleased at the proximity.

Grantaire chuckled. "At least he has someone to remind him to eat and stay hydrated," he said fondly. "I could think of worse people to share an apartment with." He let his own thumb trace along Enjolras' skin. "I do thank you for taking care of the dishes though. Eventually, I would have come by and done them but I have to admit, I, myself, have been a bit soaked into painting and drawing these days."

Bahorel he mock lamented to himself, head tilted toward the heavens, "why this? I care for two plants hiding as people, they must be watered and fed and given sunlight, one must be given a steady diet of alcohol the other must be reminded to drink at all."

Enjolras yawned a little, and wrapped himself around both of them. "You have become our responsible adult, petit croissant."

Grantaire smirked. "You still have the choice to get out of this. Think about it. If you agree to this, you will have to be the responsible one out of us." Which to be fair. Even if he would decide against it, he'd still have to deal with being the responsible one between them. "It will be a lot of work."

Bahorel rolled his eyes in the most obnoxious way possible, eyelids fluttering. "I am the responsible one regardless, I am also the oldest, I must look after mon petites. There is nothing to rethink."

Enjolras stretched, content in his wrappings of human. Good. "You are both good. I am very glad to have you both in my life."

Grantaire hummed. "Good. Same." Another sip of wine. Curling closer to the warmth. "This is good," he repeated.

Bahorel closed his eyes, "It's good to be back."

Enjolras nodded against his humans. "I can't say I'm too fond of the wine, though. It tasted like pickled cherries."

Grantaire growled lightly at that. "Heathen," he mumbled before drinking more of the wine. "I guess it means there is going to be more of it for the rest of us then."

Bahorel laughed, "don't let him lie to you. That's precisely what it is, old picked cherry juice."

Enjolras made a face. "Pickled cherry juice that has been left to go sour."

Grantaire huffed as he downed the rest of his glass. "More for me then." A small, traitorous smile curled his lips up before he set his now empty glass back down. "With that, you have just revoked your right to any more wine in my company, mon croissant."

Bahorel laughed, "a pity! Alas! What a shame, oh no, how will I ever live with the horror?...I prefer rum mon petit. Enjolras will find what he prefers one day. Leave him to his water for now."

Enjolras was unabashed at the reaction of Grantaire, not particularly minding how he was no longer allowed wine in his company (actually more pleased at the thought than anything else). "I knew there was a reason I liked you." He smushed his face between the two.

Grantaire dramatically gasped at the reactions. He turned to his, sadly, empty wine glass and spoke, "Do not fret, mon amour. They just do not understand our love but yet, I will keep loving you. If no one but us understands our love, then so be it."

Bahorel groaned, long and loud, head tilted back against the arm rest, eyes closed, "you were meant for the stage, clearly, such drama is befitting only of the theatre. You forget mon petit, I delivered your love to your arms, do I get no thanks?" He turned to Enjolras and smiled, "leave him to his glass, we have eachother."

Enjolras raised his head, frowning as he looked between the two. "I thought we had already discussed this."

Grantaire stayed in his made up personality and sighed just as dramatically. "This is it? You are not even going to fight for me? Oh, how I feel betrayed. My heart can not take it." He stopped himself, turning back to face Bahorel. "It is my arms that you love? What about the rest of me?" Okay. Okay. He needed to stop. He couldn't take the confusion on Enjolras' face. "I am joking. Mainly." He clarified as he brushed his lips against the blonde's cheek.

Bahorel rolled his eyes once again, something he'd do quite often he was sure, and smiled at them, something he was equally sure would happen just as often if not more so, "the man kids only we're around to see it, watch us come home to him holding a bottle of wine to his chest fast asleep."

Enjolras put his head back down, tracing circles on the back of Grantaire's hand. "Hm...thank you. Bahorel, would you believe Grantaire will not allow me to punch bigots?"

Grantaire chuckled and rolled his eyes. "It would not be for the first time," he shrugged, remembering the times that he had awoken with a bottle of wine in his arms. Turning to Enjolras, he raised his eyebrow. "Are you still complaining about this?"

Bahorel turned to look at R, shocked, "why would you stop him? Bigots deserve all that come to them by the way of a man's fist. Surely, if Enjolras were angry enough to strike the person than they must have done some heinous deed. Let him bruise his knuckles on the face of another, it only hurts the two. Are you not an artist? The rendering of such a moment must be a glorious thing, such an opportunty should not be passed up." He turned to Enjolras then, a smile on his face, "There will be other chances mon petit, and there will be times when I am there in his stead, not only will I allow you to but I shall endeaver to help you as best I can."

Enjolras pressed a kiss to Grantaire's cheek before putting his face on Bahorel. "Thank you. Bigots deserve to be punched. It's important and somebody has to do it."

Grantaire rolled his eyes and turned to his empty glass. "The one time I try to be responsible, it comes and bites me back." A heavy sigh escaped him. "I'm too drunk for this discussion. I'm not going to bail either of you out of jail if you punch the wrong person."

Bahorel passed his quarter full glass to Grantaire. "It's good then, that I have money in the coffee table for just such an occasion, laws have certainly changed. Enjolras is correct. It's a noble calling to punch bigots."

Enjolras yawned again, and wrapped himself around the others. "I would gladly go to jail with both of you. Situation willing, of course."

Grantaire smiled fondly at Enjolras. "I'd also go to jail with you two given the right circumstances." With a sigh, he let himself sink into the warmth. "I'm not going to have that discussion. Not now." And this is why he like wine. Wine was uncomplicated. Wine was just there. Wine was warm. Warm like these two. And warm was good.

Bahorel settled against them, the warmth lulling him into a state of relaxation, "I would make the same such assurances but I'm almost certain it'd be my fault we're in jail."

Enjolras was mumbling now, against the two. "What discussion?"

Grantaire shook his head. "Don't you worry. You should sleep."

Bahorel grumbled "we all should, the hangover will come swift tomrrow."