Enjolras was an absolute idiot. More than that. He was by far the stupidest person in all of France. In the entire world. After gathering his wits, Enjolras tore after Grantaire, wanting to scream but unable to do anything but pant as Grantaire was much faster than he looked. He had to apologize. He wasn't horrified by what Grantaire had done, as he had thought he would be. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. He had begun to appreciate the cynic, even in physical appearance. Especially in physical appearance. Focus, Julien. You almost lost him. Where is he running to? His flat is on the other side of the city...
And then Enjolras heard the Seine, feeling his blood turn to ice in his veins. Grantaire was running to the river. Enjolras was suddenly gripped with a speed unknown to him and sped up, the aching in his lungs and thighs completely lost to his senses.
So when Grantaire stopped before the rails, Enjolras did the only sensible thing he could. He crashed into Grantaire, wrapping his arms around Grantaire as tight as he possibly could. Grantaire cracked his head against the stone bridge with a sickening 'thud' and Enjolras hoped he hadn't hurt Grantaire.
"What the- Enjolras?!" Grantaire asked incredulously, squirming to try to get out of Enjolras's grasp.
"Please... stop squirming my friend... you are quite fast and... my breath has not yet... completely returned to me." Enjolras panted.
"Go away, Enjolras. You do not need to see this. I know what you think of me. I merely wish to spare you the pain-"
Enjolras's hand across Grantaire's cheek was loud and Enjolras could feel his hand sting. A red mark was already forming on Grantaire's cheek.
"Pain? You wish to spare me pain? You have tortured me! I have never felt such fear. I have no intention of feeling it again. Seeing you and the river... You are never to do such a thing again, do you understand?" Enjolras screamed, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape.
"Enjolras, please. I know you hate me. Don't make me live in a world where you hate me. I cannot live with myself knowing I turned you against me." Grantaire begged.
"But I don't hate you." Enjolras shouted, uncaring as to who heard it, as long as Grantaire understood. "I promised you I would never hate you. I cannot. Why would you think such things?"
"I saw your face." Grantaire admitted.
He always took care to think before he spoke, but this was different. He had no need to think. As their friends, especially Jehan would say, for once Enjolras spoke from his heart. "I admit I was shocked. I never imagined you expressing your feelings in such a way. But I... I froze. My mind went blank. It- It was my first kiss and I wasn't expecting it. The pain I felt was knowing such a thing had happened to you, to know something almost drove you out of my life altogether, I felt as if my heart were splitting in two. And I couldn't think of my life without you. To not know you. To not see your bravery every time I see you."
"Bravery? Impossible. I am nothing more than a coward living in a body made of wine." Grantaire scoffed.
"Yes, bravery. You are no coward, not by any actual definition. If you are not brave, why did you show up to every meeting, without fail, knowing I would only cut you down and reject if not mock your views? If you are not brave, then why did you tell me your story? You thought I might hate you, and you say you cannot live with yourself if I hated you but still you opened yourself to whatever scorn you thought I might have. If you are not brave, why did you run away from your father, even when you knew exactly what beatings would come if he caught you. You knew the risks. Yet still you tried. If you are not brave, why did you stay with your father to save your mother's soul? If you are not brave, why did you try to save your mother? You say love and desperation fueled these things but that only gets you so far. You are brave, much braver than I. Drink may be your addiction but it does not define you. It will never define you. The thing you call a father will never define you. You define you. And that you is someone I will not dare to live without." Enjolras confessed.
For a small time, neither spoke. They simply matched each other in their pants.
"Do you really mean that?" Grantaire asked, his voice much like that of a small child.
"More than I've ever meant anything. When I said damn the revolution, I meant it. I would follow you to Hell and back." Enjolras promised. "I would lead you to Olympus."
Grantaire's eyes lit up, ever-so-slightly misty. Enjolras had always resisted the nickname Apollo. He was no God. He didn't even believe in the Catholic Almighty. But as soon as Grantaire's eyes showed a spark of wanting to live Enjolras knew he'd said the right thing. As long as he said the right things, everything would be okay. He would make it okay for Grantaire.
"Can you let me up now? I'm afraid I have a bit of a headache and my face is definitely going to bruise. I did not know you took Bahorel up on those fighting lessons." Grantaire remarked casually, as if nothing had happened.
"He only managed to teach me exactly how to get beaten. That and how to get stabbed without dying. He's mastered that. But you must promise to not run away from me. I am taking you home tonight. And I am spending the night, unless you have any objections?" Enjolras tried to match his cynic's voice.
"None, except for we must tell Combeferre. You know how he worries." Grantaire shrugged, smiling ever-so-slightly.
Enjolras mirrored his friend. "I do. More than you."
"Oh, that sounds like a challenge." Grantaire laughed, but it was strained. He wasn't as okay as he tried to pass himself off as, and Enjolras easily saw it.
"It could be. It very well could be." Enjolras baited.
Enjolras stood and let Grantaire up, but immediately he clasped Grantaire's hand in his own.
"I keep my promises." Grantaire said unsurely.
"That is not my intention. I do not doubt you." Enjolras whispered.
"Then what is?" Grantaire snapped.
Dismissing Grantaire's voice, Enjolras said, "I need to know you're still here. Seeing you and hearing the river… I thought I might lose you. Actually, my body gave me strength and speed I did not know I have. I doubt I can access it again."
"Ah. Enjolras, welcome to the world of adrenaline. You'll crash when it wears off." Grantaire used his free hand to slap Enjolras on the back.
"I take it you have experienced it before?" Enjolras asked.
"Oh, yes. Every time I tried to escape my father. Or something of the like." Grantaire shrugged.
"May I promise you something?" Enjolras tested.
"Depends." Grantaire said uncertainly.
"Can I promise you that you will never feel such things again?" Enjolras asked.
"I… You cannot control that, Apollo." Grantaire used the nickname as if it were Enjolras's real name.
After tonight, it may have been.
"Within my power, then. May I promise you that?" Enjolras offered, looking into Grantaire's admittedly exquisite blue eyes to try and prove he meant every word.
Grantaire nodded, finally understanding what he'd been trying to communicate from the start. Enjolras cared for the attractive cynic.
Wait. Attractive cynic? Where did that come from? Enjolras thought at the ludicrous statement. He dismissed it. Enjolras could not focus on himself. That would come later, once Grantaire was safely at home. Where Enjolras would barricade them inside. And the window. Anywhere Grantaire could use to escape. He trusted Grantaire, he really did, but he wasn't going to wake up to Grantaire missing. Just in case.
"So my place then yours?" Enjolras offered.
"Sure." Grantaire smiled, slightly squeezing Enjolras's hand.
"You paint, do you not?" Enjolras said, trying for a semblance of normal communication.
"I do. I only told you once, I'm surprised you remember." Grantaire assented.
I remember all my conversations with you. Especially the civil ones. Enjolras wanted to say.
"I have a good memory." Enjolras shrugged. "And twice, actually. You were drunk the second time."
"Apparently, for remembering all those long and boring quotes from Robespierre must require a mind as eloquent and hollow as the one who wrote it." Grantaire teased.
Enjolras pushed him playfully, but not so much as to disentangle their hands.
"Aw, Apollo, you've finally learned how to take a joke." Grantaire praised, swinging their hands.
"I always knew. I just… sometimes forget." Enjolras shifted uncomfortably but soon Grantaire dissolved the tension.
"And I have forgotten things simpler than that, Apollo."
Enjolras smiled at his friend, going to rub his hand in Grantaire's curls. "I often wonder what goes on inside that head of yours."
"And I yours." Grantaire supplied, ducking but grinning a little.
"You know what goes on. I say it often enough in my speeches." Enjolras countered.
"Your mind cannot only be the revolution. You must think of food and water and sleep." Grantaire dismissed then stopped and stared at Enjolras. "Oh wait. I forgot who I was talking to. You don't think of food, water and sleep."
Enjolras glared at him.
"I do too!" Enjolras said indignantly.
"So all the times I've bought you breakfast you have two breakfasts?" Grantaire asked innocently.
Enjolras sighed. He did not lie to his friends. "No. Usually I forget or run out of time. But that's breakfast. I always eat lunch."
"With who?"
"Combeferre." Enjolras said surely then realized his statement.
"So he drags you to lunch every day. I knew it." Grantaire smirked.
"So what if he does?" Enjolras muttered, pouting.
"Don't be offended, my dear Apollo. I was merely teasing." Grantaire said, but the look in his eyes held more than a little fear.
"What is it Courf and you always say? Ah, yes. Gotcha." Enjolras poked Grantaire in the side, as Courfeyrac had done to him thousands of times.
Grantaire actually, genuinely laughed. It made Enjolras's heart swell. In fact, Enjolras rather liked this new feeling. He had felt the happiness of a successful speech, a protest where people heard him, the congratulations of a job well done to his friends but it did not compare to this feeling. He wasn't quite sure what it was. He had to ask later.
Together, laughing quietly and talking like old friends, they quickly made it to Enjolras's apartment.
And boy were they in trouble.
"Enjolras, you'd better have a good reason for staying out half the night. I was worried sick." Combeferre growled.
"My fault 'Ferre. I'm sorry. We were talking and lost track of time." Grantaire said. Enjolras thought it was as close to the truth as he could get.
"And then Grantaire remembered you and I have returned. Actually, I am going to spend the night at Grantaire's. I do not wish to cease our conversation." Enjolras informed.
"Really?" Combeferre looked shocked. "With Grantaire?"
"Again with the surprise. I do this with you and Courf all the time. Why is it different when I do it with him?" Enjolras huffed.
"I am merely shocked. Usually you plan these weeks in advance." Combeferre explained.
Enjolras's cheeks turned slightly pink. That was quite true.
"I don't think we could've planned this. Good night Combeferre. We shall see you in the morning, if we haven't killed each other by then." Grantaire waved.
After collecting his night-clothes and clothes for the next day, he started down to the stairs, immediately noticing Grantaire's hand missing from his own.
"R, be careful. He has not slept well these past few weeks. I am not sure what it is, he refuses to tell me, but he doesn't keep still or even quiet in his sleep." Combeferre whispered, thinking Enjolras out of earshot.
"Thanks for the warning, 'Ferre." Grantaire smiled and rejoined Enjolras, relinking their hands.
"I take it you heard that." Grantaire smirked again.
Enjolras tried to glare it away.
No dice.
"Yes." Enjolras admitted.
"Good, then I won't have to repeat it back to you." Grantaire said lightly as Enjolras stared at him.
"You would repeat it back to me?" Enjolras asked, slightly in awe.
"Of course. My friend, you asked me once I come to the meetings. I don't come for the wine. I come for the company. And not just Bahorel and Courfeyrac, although I love them dearly. I come for you. I have always come to see you. If someone were to say something about you I thought you might think was worth hearing I would repeat it to you." Grantaire said.
"Thank you, my friend. But know Combeferre would not say anything about me that he wouldn't say to me." Enjolras said, trying to hide the blush feeling ever so touched created.
Grantaire nodded and started swinging their hands.
"I see you're enjoying that." Enjolras remarked.
"Yep. I like knowing your still here too." Grantaire smiled. "But why haven't you been sleeping?"
"Nightmares." Enjolras said simply, knowing Grantaire would understand.
It wasn't long before they reached Grantaire's tiny flat, the second star to the right.
"How drunk was I when I said that?" Grantaire laughed.
"Quite. That was the night I took you home for the first time." Enjolras answered.
"Now there was a night of strange things. You didn't yell at me, you actually took time to help me, it was definitely a night of firsts." Grantaire chuckled.
"It was the first time I remembered my sleepwalking so I can do nothing but agree with you." Enjolras said.
Grantaire fiddled with one of his sleeves and Enjolras pretended he didn't notice.
"You must be tired, R. Come, your bed awaits." Enjolras said with a slight flourish.
"No, Enjolras. You sleep in the bed. I'll sleep on the floor." Grantaire said.
"You most certainly will not!" Enjolras's raised voice made Grantaire step back slightly. "We shared once before and we can do so again. I see nothing wrong with that. Do you?"
Enjolras had worded that carefully. He knew Grantaire agreed with most things he said, that didn't concern the revolution mind you, and he knew Grantaire wasn't one to refuse Enjolras. The question was whether Grantaire could handle such close proximity to another after tonight.
"I… I don't." Grantaire decided.
"I'm going to change. Feel free to go to sleep before me." Enjolras said, nodding.
Grantaire shrugged and Enjolras ducked into Grantaire's bathroom. After slipping into his night-clothes and folding the others, he crept back into Grantaire's room. As he guessed, Grantaire was exhausted and lay asleep already on the bed. He smiled at his friend and went to place his used and fresh clothes side by side so he could easily change the next morning without limiting Grantaire. Who wasn't wearing any night-clothes. Actually, he just had his trousers on, nothing more. Grantaire's chest could only be described as… decorated. Grantaire had scars freshly made and some so old Enjolras could barely see them. Enjolras, overcome once more with emotion, he'd really have to get used to this, lightly traced a long scar from Grantaire's pecks to Grantaire's navel. Grantaire's face twisted, as if Enjolras had brought a memory to Grantaire's subconscious.
"Hush, R. You are safe here. I will always protect you. As long as I have breath in my body." Enjolras promised, stroking Grantaire's messy but undeniably soft black curls.
Grantaire settled down, a small smile now adorning his face. Enjolras smiled and lay down beside his friend. Once more, Enjolras interlocked their hands. It had always worked in the past, as when he woke to holding Grantaire's hand he knew his sleep had been undisturbed. Quite content, although a bit unsure as to where their relationship was, it wasn't long before Enjolras joined his friend under the sea of sleep.
Unaware to the boys, Grantaire cuddled into Enjolras's shoulder and Enjolras rested his cheek against Grantaire's curls. And once more, with their hands intertwined, nightmares never once entered the young men's minds.
And there we go! Another story here and gone. I think it was the longest yet. Hope I didn't scare you too much. And for those of you who do not wish it to be, this story is not over yet. Reviews make me write faster! And I take all constructive criticism. But for now adieu, mes chers dévots.