It was another grim night at the cafe for Grantaire, he had no purpose to be here except drink himself silly and cause bother. He sat by himself, slouched on the table clutching a bottle of wine. Twirling it between his weak drunken fingers. Out of loneliness he buried his face in the crook of his arm only sitting up to take another mouthful then hide away again. People didn't mind him being there, only when he causes bother do they get cranky with him, especially Enjolras. He was the passionate and strong leader, with very strong political opinions. However, Grantaire saw him as more than a leader. He saw him as a breath of fresh air or more of an angelic god sent from above. The more Grantaire thought about him, glanced at him from a distance or even be in the same room as him, the more he fell for the strong minded man. But there was him, a silly drunkard with no real belief or opinion. Had nothing better to do than get himself drunk all the time and sleep in a gutter. No, nobody like Enjolras would want someone like Grantaire.
Slowly, he lifted his head and took another mouthful. After he downed it, he shivered slightly and felt his brain become more intoxicated. Suddenly, he felt hands run his arm to his shoulders. Slowly and softly as if to seduce the drunk man. He craned his head around to see another one of the cafe whores, offering herself to him. Smiling sweetly and leaning down to make her breasts seem like the best thing in the world. Grantaire just looked up at her and shook his head, he wasn't in the mood for a dirty dance. She pouted then tottered away to find another man to have fun with.
The men flooded into the room, ignoring Grantaire in the corner. Joly, a good friend of Grantaire noticed him and sat down with a cup. He was one to notice when Grantaire was under the weather or not feeling brilliant.
"Not feeling well?" he asked, taking a swig of his drink. When Grantaire recognised the voice, he sat up and leaned on his fist.
"One could say so" he responded in a low voice, watching the men listen as Enjorlas spoke. His voice full of triumph and optimism for the men taking part. Sounding so bold and confident about his words. Sometimes, Grantaire wishes he could be more confident in what he says, not trying to remember if he made a fool of himself or not.
"Is the usual?" Joly asked, trying to reassure his friend by patting his back slightly.
"Yeah, I have nothing else to think about because nothing else is more important" he responded, taking a drink from his bottle. With each mouthful, he felt ashamed. Why is he not dealing with this? He can stop drinking any day and be the man Enjorlas wants him to be. They could be happy together, Grantaire could love him forever more. But no, here he is, drinking his life away while Enjolras is doing more useful things. He doesn't need a drunk man in his life.
"Grantaire...I" Joly began, however he couldn't the words to finish. When Grantaire realised the reality of this, it made him depressed.
"Can't you tell him in private or something?" he said hesitantly to Grantaire who was turning the bottle in his fingers again. Surprised by his idea, he looked at Joly. In someways, offended by how he made the whole situation seem. Made it seem like a petty little child's confession. No, this was more than that, more real and alive. Something nobody would understand.
"I can't... walk up to him and say it in his face..." he said, his voice becoming raspy and sad. The corners of his mouth pulled down into a frown, tears brimmed in his eyes. Making his vision unclear and blinding him from his love.
"I...just can't..." he said and with that he slumped back down and wept into the crook of his arm unaware of how loud his cries were. Joly, unsure of what to do looked around at the other men who were now looking at him for an answer. Enjorlas seemed to glare, was it that Grantaire was crying or just at how loud he was being? With a sigh, he looked at his men then stepped down from the platform he stood on. He nodded at Joly who immediately moved from Grantaire's side and joined the others who now having their own discussion to leave Enjorlas to Grantaire.
He looked at the weak, sobbing man. A sudden feeling of sorrow and guilt washed over him, a sign for him to comfort Grantaire. Still, the sad man cried, making his sleeve damp.
"Grantaire..." he began, to get his attention. After recognising the beautiful calling him, Grantaire turned to face him. The golden haired man sat beside him, his blue eyes read curiosity and worry. As much as Enjorlas was a man of his words and bravery, he cared for each man. Even though Grantaire wasn't apart of his cause, he still cared for him.
"Yes?" he chocked out, the tears still streaming down his face, his eyes red and sore. Itchy from the endless tears that fell down his face.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, Grantaire froze, Enjorlas actually cared for him? He probably just wants him to stop weeping like a child and man up.
"You wouldn't understand" he muttered, sniffling and putting his face back down to hide his shameful crying. Enjorlas wasn't going to give up, even if Grantaire keeps resisting him, he will help him somehow.
"Why wouldn't I?" he asked.
"You have... more important things to deal with" he mumbled, Enjrolas barely heard him but continued. He swallowed his nerves and pressed on.
"My friends are also important, I love be around them-"
"But you're not in love, are you?" Grantaire suddenly asked, which seemed to throw Enjolras a bit. For a minute, he blinked at Grantaire. Who seemed to be waiting for an answer, he childishly wiped his cheeks with his sleeve making the other one wet. Enjolras was still stunned by his question, then he sighed with a smile.
"Who said I wasn't?" He asked, surprising Grantaire. He sat up straight and took another mouthful of wine. Surely, maybe, Grantaire is looking for the answer he is hoping. However he had very little chance of him being the one Enjorlas loves, it's probably a pretty girl across the street. This idea of Enjolras loving someone else, caught his breath and he closed his eyes squeezing more tears from his eyes.
"May I ask... who?" he whispered, curious to know. Enjorlas felt Grantaire watching him, wanting a specific answer like he was hoping. His watery brown eyes glimmered, the pools of tears making his eyes seem so bright and shiny.
"Close your eyes and I will show you" Enjorlas said, now starting to feel nervous about his plan. No, it wasn't just revolutions he planned. For months, he had been planning on how he could tell Grantaire he loved him. Although he often had doubts, with his drunk behaviour and the way the cafe whores seem to play around with him. Alternatively, he would believe Grantaire loved him back.
Grantaire closed his eyes and waited patiently, expecting him to pull forward someone from the group of men behind him or call forth on of the girls from downstairs. Enjorlas nibbled at his lip for a minute then nervously leaned forward towards Grantaire, he was no more than a breath away. Swallowing his nerves, he pressed his lips against Grantaire's wine stained lips. They tasted strongly of wine, which didn't surprise Enjolras. Also, he was slightly addicted to the taste, making his kiss with more force and passion.
Soon, he climbed onto Grantaire's lap and tasted his lips. Grantaire was frozen, shocked but so happy. Suddenly, Enjolras pulled apart and blushed a deep red, darker than his jacket. His hands shaking slightly from his sudden movement.
"I-I'm sorry...I..." he began, feeling like he shouldn't have moved onto Grantaire so quickly like that. Immediate regrets and negative thoughts spawned in his head. Although, he longed for the taste again. He looked to see Grantaire wearing the dreamy, dazed and lazy smile he had which told Enjolras, he liked it well more like loved it.
"Don't be, you have no need to be... now then..." he said, curling his arms around Enjolras and pulling him closer. Pulling his hips closer to his, their bodies so close together.
"Kiss me, barricade boy" he muttered in a mischievous tone, which only made me Enjolras chuckle as they engaged in a slightly sloppy French kiss. His hands entwining with Grantaire's messy curly black hair. Their tongues wrestled together, Enjolras slowly moved his hips against Grantaire who rubbed his hand under his shirt.
"Don't we have a revolution to run?!" Marius suddenly asked, making the two now lovers jump and pull apart. Enjolras frantically straightened his jacket and stood up from Grantaire's lap who ran his hands up the backs of his thighs.
"Later, I have my men to see to" he said stepping away from Grantaire who held his hands out but soon carried on drinking.
After the meeting, Enjolras escorted Grantaire back to his apartment where they both spent the night. Needless to say, yes they carried on.