(I am definitely still doing them, and thank you for sending one along! And giving me a chance to explore a really great friendship that I don’t often get to!)
Bahorel doesn’t think to do more than give a warning knock at the apartment door, because Combeferre had mentioned it was unlocked and to just go ahead and drop things off with Enjolras or Courfeyrac, whoever was there.
“It’s me,” Bahorel calls as he steps into the well-lit apartment, only to be immediately derailed by the sight of Enjolras at the counter.
The thing is, Bahorel’s found, is that it’s not entirely uncommon to find Enjolras caught up in his own thoughts entirely, distracted and absent with a quiet frown as he contemplates the greater nature of the universe and justice and horizons only he can see. Once in a while, Bahorel will even stumble across an Enjolras who’s pushed too far and too hard, to the point where he’s conked out on the nearest safe surface or person.
Enjolras, for all his vast capacity for affection and his love of truly terrible, painful puns, is an incredibly restrained man. So just seeing him hunched over at the counter, with his hands loosely fisted in his springy halo of golden curls, sets Bahorel’s alarms off.
Bahorel steps out of his boots by the door and sets his bags down calmly as he can. He crosses over, making sure to approach from Enjolras’ line of sight, as he comes up.
Enjolras’ breathing is just a little too fast and ragged, and his eyes snap to a distressed focus when he looks up.
Aw thank you so much! This is great, I love the interaction between them!