A/N: I wrote this while on writers block for another story I'm doing; and I wrote it because it just wouldn't leave me alone until I did.
All mistakes are my own, because I didn't have someone beta this, and I may very well have missed something. It's happened before, so if you catch anything, please tell me, and I'll fix it.
If you asked him about it, he'd swear up and down that he wasn't hiding, he had no reason to hide, and that you were being ridiculous. But he'd be lying, of course. He would have been smoking to provide an excuse for when someone inevitably found him, but at the moment, he felt that smoking in the rain was just slightly too cliché, even for him. So, for now, he was just not-hiding against the wall of Courf's apartment, trying to decide whether or not to go inside. His hands were shaking, and he was beginning to think a cliché would be worth the calming effects of the cigarette.
He heard footsteps slapping against the pavement, hurrying to get out of the rain, and he slunk further into the shadows of the building. He was fervently hoping, praying to anyone or anything that was listening that the footsteps wouldn't slow, wouldn't stop enough to notice him, but they did both. And then that voice, that achingly familiar voice called out to him.
"Grantaire?" And why did he have to say his name like that? All light and confused. Grantaire decided that being cliché was now the least of his worries. He pulled a cigarette out and lit it, keeping his head down as his trembling fingers brought the cigarette to his lips. The footsteps were approaching him now, and it was barely moments before Enjolras stood in front of him. Grantaire licked his lips and took another pull off his cigarette before answering. Even then,
"Apollo," was all he could manage.
"Why are you lurking in front of Courfeyrac's building?"
"'M not lurking," he brandished the cigarette, "I'm smoking, Apollo. You know how Courf is about smoking." He was trying to keep the mood light and Enjolras unaware, but the change, when it came, was tangible. Enjolras put his bag down and stepped closer to Grantaire. Enjolras reached out to him and Grantaire flinched, Enjolras settled for putting his hand on Grantaire's shoulder.
"R, look at me." Grantaire stood resolutely at the ground. "Grantaire, please." Just like in The Princess Bride (which Bossuet had made Grantaire watch far too many times) it was the please that did it. Grantaire raised his eyes so that he was looking at Enjolras' nose, but he refused to look any further. He was afraid of what he'd see in Enjolras' perfect blue eyes.
Disappointment, surely.
Anger, most likely.
Revulsion? Almost certainly. Grantaire wasn't entirely sure what Enjolras was seeing, as he hadn't had a chance to get to a mirror yet, but he knew there was blood, and at least one of his eyes was blackened. Enjolras' nostrils flared and Grantaire winced. He could feel the white hot anger rolling off of the other man in waves, and he ducked his head again. He knew from personal experience that one could only manage to look at something terrible for so long.
Grantaire knew he wasn't good looking on one of his best days, so he could only imagine how horrible he looked now.
He trained his eyes on the ground, watching an ant crawl over his shoelaces, trying to will Enjolras away so that he didn't have to face the disappointment that he knew was coming. He was focused so intently on the ant that he only subconsciously realized that Enjolras had moved closer until his fingers were wrapped around Grantaire's wrist. He hoped that Enjolras didn't notice how his pulse jumped into overdrive at his touch.
"What happened?" he asked quietly and something in his voice made Grantaire start to tremble again. But it wasn't anger that had Enjolras shaking as well; it was despair. Grantaire felt the other man shaking and finally looked into his eyes.
"Sometimes words just don't cut it, Apollo. That's when things tend to get more on the bloody side."
"It looks really painful." Grantaire tried for a smile.
"You should see the other guys."
"There was more than one?"
"If it'd just been the one, I'd have gotten away with hardly a scratch, Apollo. Give me some credit." Silence followed and Grantaire used it to toss the cigarette butt into the bin by the door. At this point, not even the nicotine could calm him down.
"You have to stop this, R!" Enjolras said quickly, as if it were a secret that he just couldn't bear to keep.
"What, smoking? I know you're against it, but—"
"No, I mean you have to stop putting yourself in positions where you can be…" Hurt? Killed? Enjolras wasn't sure which he meant, but Grantaire seemed to understand. He bristled, suddenly defensive.
"And why not?"
"Because no cause, no matter how noble is worth your life!"
"This from the man who got caught in a riot last month after a rally turned sour! Or protested so long he nearly got hypothermia!"
"That's—"
"Different?"
"Yes!"
"How?" Grantaire challenged, and, for once, his Apollo was out of words. "Did it occur to you that maybe there was no cause? That I picked this fight just to fight, Enjolras?"
"Yes, of course it did, but that's not who you are, Grantaire!"
"And how would you know?" He sneered.
"Because—" Enjolras stopped and restarted, "because no matter how much you pretend not to believe, not to care, I know you do. You see so much more than the rest of us because you've been there. And it kills you, it hurts so much, and it's easier not to see it, so you pretend that you don't see it, that you don't care. You hide behind jokes and alcohol and god knows what else, but every now and again, you slip and we can see how much you really feel, and it hurts, Grantaire." And because he couldn't figure out how Enjolras knew any of that, how his Apollo could see any of that side of him, he latched onto the one thing that was digging a knife into his ribs. "It hurts when I see how much that hurts you, and I can't stand it anymore, Grantaire!" Grantaire really wished that Enjolras would stop saying his name like that.
"What?" Was all that came out of his mouth when Enjolras had left him space to speak.
"Are you serious?" Enjolras looked at him, exasperated now. "Look, I know that you can barely tolerate me on the best of days," Grantaire just shook his head because of how inherently wrong that sentence was, "but for crying out loud, I didn't think you were blind!"
"What?"
"Grantaire!" Enjolras whined, as if he couldn't believe that Grantaire still hadn't understood what Enjolras was saying, which was probably exactly what was happening. "I fall asleep every night terrified that I'm going to wake up, and you aren't. That I'm going to have to pretend to be fine while you're in a hospital, in a coma, or—" he choked on the last word. Grantaire wasn't sure when it had happened but Enjolras twined their fingers together and was now holding onto Grantaire's hand as though his life depended on it. When Grantaire looked up at him, he realized that Enjolras was staring at the ground, as if he was afraid to see Grantaire's face. "And I'm asking you to stop putting yourself in harm's way because, well, because! Damn it! This shouldn't be this difficult!" He took a steadying breath that did nothing to help him at all. "R, I love you." He brought his desperate eyes up to Grantaire's. "I have for the longest time now, and it's been killing me to pretend to just feel friendship for you because I know you don't feel the same way and you can barely stand to be in the same room as me—"
Well, Grantaire was having none of that. He put his free hand behind Enjolras' neck and Enjolras was stopped mid-tirade by Grantaire's mouth colliding with his own.
Their first kiss was sloppy, ungraceful, and, frankly, somewhat desperate. When Grantaire pulled back, Enjolras' eyes were as wide as saucers. "And you call me blind." Grantaire muttered. Enjolras' cheeks heated and damn if he wasn't gorgeous when he blushed. Grantaire grinned and pulled him back in for a second, decidedly gentler and less desperate, kiss.
Or, you know, the second one that they both remembered.
Technically, it was their third.
A/N: I have a part two in the works, because after that ending, even I had to know where their first kiss was. Please R&R, because that would be very nice of you and I would be eternally grateful.