The moment the lights go out and the elevator halts to a stop, Enjolras finds himself holding an armful of slightly terrified-looking cynic.
"Um," Enjolras says to Grantaire's curls, which are just brushing his nose, and he has to make himself resist the overwhelming urge to bury his face in them. "Are you alright?"
"I don't fucking like elevators, I told you I don't fucking like elevators. This is all your fucking fault." The pout would be audible in Grantaire's voice even if Enjolras couldn't feel the artist's lips pressed firmly together against his neck. The feeling sends a thrill down his spine and if he doesn't find a way to put Grantaire down soon, certain parts of his anatomy are going to make his ridiculous crush even more obvious.
Not that Enjolras necessarily objects to his crush being even more obvious. Grantaire apparently would be incapable of realizing Enjolras was flirting with him even if the blond was dancing in front of him wearing nothing but a pair of lace boxer briefs and Enjolras quite frankly doesn't know how to make the idiot realize that Enjolras is a) flirting with him, b) trying to ask him on a date and c) sort of, kind of, maybe really in love with him.
Still, having Grantaire accidentally come in contact with Enjolras' very hard cock probably is not the best way to go about these things.
"Can I put you down?" He asks Grantaire, because that is probably the only sensible thing to do.
"No, you cannot put me down, oh my God," Grantaire snaps and bites Enjolras' shoulder for good measure. Sadly, this also goes straight to Enjolras' cock. "I'm trying to get you to distract me, and you putting me down would accomplish exactly the opposite of that. This is really all your fault. And I am not that heavy. Deal with it."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Enjolras asks, not because he is actually taking the blame for this - whatever Grantaire says, taking the stairs to Éponine's 10th floor apartment is just completely impractical - but because the sooner he can get Grantaire to calm down, the sooner he can put him back down on the floor and that's bound to be good for all involved.
"There's only one thing," Grantaire says resignedly. "You're going to have to fuck me."
"What?" Enjolras shrieks. He doesn't know what he was expecting Grantaire to say, but this clearly wasn't it.
"Yes," Grantaire says sadly. "You thought you were being so sneaky about your whole crush thing, I didn't have the heart to tell you how mind-bogglingly obvious you were being. It was very entertaining to watch. But I was bound to cave in sooner or later and I suppose right now isn't a bad time, all things considered. So, please don't be mad at me but I'm sort of really in love with you as well?"
Enjolras tries to process this. Comes up blank. "Why the fuck would I be mad at you because of you being in love with me?"
"Um," Grantaire says, as he starts to lay a series of kisses to Enjolras' neck. "Not the being in love thing - the not telling you thing because of how amusing you were being."
"Ah," Enjolras says and kisses Grantaire, half-slamming him against the elevator wall. Once he is done with Grantaire's lower lip, he speaks again, "I am obviously very, very crossed about that. Words cannot tell you how cross I am. But I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me. Spankings of some sort may be involved."
"Oh my fucking God, just because I can't see you does mean I can't hear you!" Courfeyrac whimpers from the farthest corner of the elevator.
"Oh, fuck off," Grantaire says and goes back to kissing Enjolras.