He was like an angel, a god, someone sent from the heavens to grace the earth with his presence. Everyone loved him, everyone listened to him, his words were like life in itself. When he spoke; it was as if the sky opened up and light shone down upon them. He was the leader of the revolution.
Grantaire, the self-proclaimed drunk only listened to this man. Any other time his eyes were dull, lifeless to anyone looking into them, unless his Apollo was around. When this man stood by, spoke words of fighting back, Grantaire came to life. Fire rose in his eyes, a passion seemed to pull at him. No one else could coax this man out of him, only the Apollo, Enjolras.
It was not known to Grantaire that his Apollo had affections of his own. That late at night Enjolras would stay awake, unable to sleep for thinking of a man; a man of a drunken state who rarely travelled sober. No, Grantaire knew nothing of his beloved's troubles; how whenever they spoke he would only be able to spit out a sentence for the other man's alluring demeanor, and even then they would be words of ungratefulness or ridicule. Hiding the fact that all he wanted was to show the man how much he needed him.
Grantaire was oblivious to the signs, too drunk to notice, perhaps, or too blind sighted to see that his attractions were reciprocated. He always sat apart, catching glimpses across the room, but never seeming to be able to come together as one. Forever the Apollo and his Pylades.
Until the night before the revolution. Grantaire had stayed behind to help with the last minute gathering of gunpowder and weapons, something he wasn't sure why. Sweat on his brow, the men around him stared in contemplation. They had never seen him do anything for the cause, but since it was the last day, and they were bound to be dead by tomorrow morning, they said nothing and accepted an extra pair of hands. Enjolras ordered Grantaire around, giving him the brunt of the work. Raising gunpowder over his head to bring it to the front, moving tables away from the back wall for easy access. He did all of it willingly, listening as his Apollo preached to the men as he worked alongside them.
It was near midnight before Enjolras called that they had done enough and they all needed to sleep to be ready for what was to come. Grantaire went back to his bottle of wine, to stay at the cafe as he usually did, drinking until he fell asleep and then waking the next morning as the cafe opened again. It was allowed since he was a drunk, and he had no need to steal anything, only drink the wine until he couldn't remember who he was.
"Grantaire." Enjolras barked as the last man left the cafe, swinging the door shut behind them. Only candle light lit the room, the fire in the corner had been extinguished, most of the candles had burned out hours earlier. He looked up, his Apollo, strong and beautiful, stood staring at him. "Put that bottle down."
He mirrored words he had uttered earlier when they had gotten the news that General Lamarque had finally died. Grantaire complied, setting the bottle down onto the table, it clunked, nearly empty anyways.
They stared at each other from across the room, Enjolras stock still like a marble statue, Grantaire eying him wondering what had brought on this sudden encounter.
"You helped tonight. Thank you." He uttered, Grantaire nodded curtly. Almost too formally for his own taste, but he couldn't relax near this man. Everything heightened to an almost extreme, every breath between them was noted, the hunger and pain in his chest for this man pulling at him in every which way.
"I didn't know you had it in you." Enjolras commented, stepping closer to the drunk-but-suddenly-very-sober man. He seemed to relax, but only slightly. His body seemed to be fighting him with everything he had, Grantaire had never seen the leader like this, and it intrigued him greatly. It was a long time before Enjolras spoke again, and when he did the words were quiet and a bit husky.
"Stay away from the barricade once it is up, will you?" He asked, Grantaire's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They needed all the help they could get, and here he was, their leader, telling him to stay away. Grantaire had already planned to fight, he had pledged it to himself that he would die alongside the men he knew. Alongside his Apollo.
"Where is this coming from?" He asked after licking his lips and trying to swallow, his throat had suddenly become extremely dry.
"Just promise me." Enjolras said, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw. Grantaire stood up, pushing his chair away from him with his foot. Enjolras had opened his eyes, they were hard and pained.
"What has gotten into you, Apollo?" He had only called him that once, the only other time they had ever been alone together. On a night like this one year back, Enjolras had stayed to yell at the other man, and had gotten a surprise instead when Grantaire had called him Apollo, telling him he would do whatever he'd ask of him. It had confused the leader, but he took it as Grantaire's drunken state, and not that he had actually meant it. Now, Enjolras was second guessing his assumption at a rapid pace.
"I do not want to see every man die at my hands, Grantaire. Not you." He muttered, though he was quiet he was still strong and authoritative.
"I have already made up my mind." Grantaire said, hating the displeased look that fell across his Apollo's face. The look still unable to scar his god-like beauty.
"Grantaire, that's an order." Enjolras said firmly. Grantaire laughed bitterly.
"I do not want to be the only one who survived because I ran out of fear, Enjolras. I do not deserve to live, I have done nothing to earn that privilege. " His words were harsh.
"Grantaire," Enjolras started, pausing, picking his words carefully.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"In fact, mighty Apollo, I do. I made a promise, a promise I know you have not forgotten. And I will not stand aside and watch my friends die without knowing I at least tried to avenge them... I am not just the drunk man everyone sees, Enjolras." He stood strongly, his eyes steely and determined. Enjolras smirked, much to the shock of Grantaire.
"I know." He stated. "I'm pleased to hear you finally admit it, it took long enough." Grantaire was confused again, Enjolras looked pleased despite the fact that he had just done something that he would never do: defy what his Apollo wanted.
"What do you mean?" He asked, squinting his eyes at him a bit quizzically.
"I've been trying to pull that out of you, haven't you noticed?" In fact, he hadn't. He had thought all those words passed to him from his Apollo were words of annoyance, disgust. Not him trying to pull the words that he was more than what he seemed from his lips. Now that it was said, it was obvious to Grantaire that it was exactly what he had been doing. Feeling slightly of an idiot, he looked down, embarrassed as his cheeks flushed slightly.
"Every time I speak to you, I try to show you, but you never seem to notice." Enjolras murmured, walking closer to the one he dreamt about. Grantaire's heart skipped and became more unsteady with every step the other man took.
"Notice... What?" He managed to get out, his voice threatening to catch in his throat. His Apollo looked at him incredulously, his eyes laughing much to his surprise.
"Come on, surely you could tell...?" He asked, a playful smirk starting to form on his lips. It made Grantaire's heart flutter, he had never seen his Apollo so beautiful than he was now, the candle light flickering in his golden hair. He could only manage to shake his head, since they were a foot away now, and his vocal chords had failed him.
What Grantaire didn't know was at that time, his Apollo was feeling the same way, his heart hammering in his chest so violently he could feel it reverberate throughout the rest of his body. His body almost being pulled to the other man by some other force.
"Grantaire, I have been, since the moment I first saw you, been keeping my distance. I thought, at first, that it was... That it was not what it seemed. But then, then I realized it was. It was exactly what I first thought it meant." Enjolras had taken a shaky breath, Grantaire's heart seemed to give up beating completely, his whole body numb and almost as if it had vacated him leaving empty space behind.
"I don't hate you, I find you completely irritating at times, yes. But it is not hate. It's- well- it's the opposite. And since this is probably the only time I'll ever be able to admit it..." He said this all in a rush, a range of emotions crossing over his face. Grantaire looked at his Apollo with shock for what he had just admitted.
"You-" he managed to choke out, unable to form actual words. Enjolras looked at him, his eyes showing something he never thought he'd ever see. And suddenly words didn't need to be said, for they both knew. At that moment, it was as if they had both been clued in to a secret that they had seemed to know at the same time of not knowing. Desire kicking into them both without hesitation. They were touching now, relieving the small space that had been between them.
"Do you permit it?" Enjolras, his beautiful Apollo whispered into the air, and all Grantaire could do was nod.