Chapter 10

Back home, Grantaire slammed the door behind him. He collapsed against the door and slowly slid down, until he sat on the floor, clenching and unclenching his hands, and really trying to not hyperventilate.

And in a space of ten minutes, you have very effectively proven that you are a hopeless case. You will never believe in anything he has deemed important, and you believe in only him? How creepy can you get?

With a sudden burst of energy, he pushed himself off the floor and propelled himself to the kitchen. He took the bottle of vodka from the freezer and poured a shot. He downed it and was about to pour himself a second, when there was a pounding at the door. He groaned, when the pounding grew more insistent, he screamed, "Just go away!"

"Grantaire, please, open the door." Enjolras's muffled voice froze him.

Nononononono. I can't deal with a breakup sober, I just can't.

He wondered if he could chug the vodka before opening the door, but as the knocking continued, he decided, it would take too long for it to hit him anyway. Therefore, he put the bottle away and walked to the door, like a man to his execution.

Stop being histrionic, he thought, You've lived without him, and you will continue to do so…

He had meant to smirk and snap, "What does my Apollo wish?" as soon as he answered Enjolras, but once he did, the words died. He stared into blue eyes, silently, and tried to quell the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to cry, but felt like maintaining some sense of dignity was important, so he pushed it down.

Completely serious, Enjolras murmured carefully, "You believe in me?" maintaining eye contact with the man who seriously wished to be drunk.

Grantaire eyebrow twitched in confusion, breaking through the constructed mask of calm. Had he not made that clear? "Yes." He breathed.

In a flash, Enjolras's lips were against his, and that was definitely not the knell of doom he had been expecting. Grantaire fumbled to recover, as Enjolras pushed him back, still kissing, into the apartment. The blonde wrapped his arms around him tightly, and Grantaire finally regained some semblance of sense, and returned the kiss, working his hand into Enjolras's curls.

Walking backwards, they nearly fell over the arm of the sofa, and Grantaire quickly removed his hands from Enjolras to brace themselves and keep them from toppling over. Giggling, Enjolras pressed quick kisses all down Grantaire's throat and back to his ear.

"This–this was not what I was expecting…" Grantaire gasped.

Enjolras moved back to look into Grantaire's eyes. He smiled widely, "You doubt everything and say there is no cause that can rouse you, and yet you have decided to believe in me and say you come to meetings you hate for me? What part of that makes you think I would want anything other than to kiss you senseless?"

"I–I didn't think you'd take it like that…" Grantaire blushed, inhaling sharply, when Enjolras grazed his teeth against Grantaire's jaw.

"Oh?" Enjolras moved back to Grantaire's lips.

Forgetting that his arms were the only things supporting them, Grantaire wrapped his arms around Enjolras's neck, sending them crashing onto the couch.

Enjolras grinned and laughed, propping himself on his elbows over Grantaire. His face fell slightly, when he caught Grantaire's frown. "What is it?"

"We were fighting."

"Yes…" The blond raised an eyebrow.

"It seems like…this is a sudden change." He tried to articulate further, but found it very difficult with Enjolras on top of him.

"Not so sudden, it took fifteen minutes before I even got here." He said, smirking.

"Still."

Enjolras leaned down to lightly kiss Grantaire's forehead. "You said something, which I never thought you would say. Something that moved me very deeply, which made it nearly impossible to stay mad at you." He sat up, "If you are still angry with me, I'll stop, of course. I'm so sorry, really." He looked very concerned.

Grantaire sat up as well. "I'm not–not really angry really…" I just worry, because I love you, and am getting frighteningly close to needing you in my life always, and you have this terrible habit of doing really stupid shit in the name of justice, and please, please, don't leave, when I've just found you. "I just thought you'd really have been creeped-out by that outburst earlier…"

Enjolras face just lit up again, and he reached a hand to run through Grantaire's black curls, "Not creeped-out in the slightest, 'Aire." Then Enjolras moved forward again, so he could lean in, rest his forehead against Grantaire's, lips just an inch away, his hand now at the side of the cynic's face, "I mean it. I can't explain how happy you made me tonight."

And Grantaire really felt like it was unfair to make him think, with Enjolras so very close, breath soft and warm across his face, and hands gentle and warm on his jaw, and blazing blue eyes, which could freeze, but now were just bright and warm and so fucking inviting, and suddenly, Grantaire was pressing as much of himself against Enjolras as possible, kissing him fiercely, almost desperately.

Enjolras drew Grantaire forward to straddle his lap. Hands wandered, as Enjolras's tongue deftly stroked Grantaire's, plunging deep into his mouth. Grantaire nearly moaned, when Enjolras pulled back to ask, "Bed?"

"God, please." He whimpered back.

Grantaire woke up with Enjolras's bare chest against his back, arms wound around him tightly and their fingers laced together. He glanced at the clock. It wasn't even three in the morning. Grantaire sighed.

Enjolras had taken him so gently that night. With all on Enjolras's anger and fire, he hadn't really expected that. Now, with Enjolras wrapped around him so easily, Grantaire felt his heart begin to ache. It was sweet and comfortable, and Enjolras just fit so well around Grantaire's body, and his work, and his life, and it wasn't like he had been denying it before, but he was in love with Enjolras, and each time the thought struck him, it was like a thunderbolt, which simultaneously made him want to scream, laugh, and cry.

As laughing and screaming seemed like they would wake the man sleeping next to him, Grantaire did neither of those things, and suddenly fat tears began to pour down his face. He released his grip on Enjolras's hands to cover his mouth, as he shook silently.

Grantaire realized that his attempt not to disturb his Apollo failed, when he heard a soft, "'Aire?" behind him.

The activist pressed kisses along Grantaire's neck and shoulder and whispering "'Aire, what's wrong? What is it?"

"Nothing. Nothing." He chuckled dryly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

Gently, Enjolras turned Grantaire to face him. With concern shining in his eyes, he murmured, "Tell me, please."

He forced a smile to his face, "You have a revolution to lead tomorrow. You should sleep."

Apollo's face fell, "The protest? Is that why…'Taire, I'm going to the protest…"

Grantaire stayed silent.

"Grantaire, I need to be there." He pleaded.

"Grant–"

Grantaire reached a hand up and placed it over Enjolras's mouth. "You will go to the protest." It wasn't a question. It wasn't even regretful, only a quiet statement of fact.

"Yes." He whispered equally quiet.

"And, I will be there with you." Grantaire was no longer looking in Enjolras's eyes.

"You will?" Enjolras nearly gasped. It was sweet, almost childlike.

"Yes."

Enjolras tipped Grantaire's chin up, so he could see his face, and not just the mess of jet-black curls. Searching, he implored, "Why?"

With a half-hearted smirk, Grantaire answered, "Because I love you, jackass."

Enjolras beamed at him, bright like the sun. He surged forward and captured his mouth in a kiss.

Kissing him so eagerly, Grantaire could almost imagine he had said it back.

A/N: Yay sex! I don't really write smut, so this chapter is as about as descriptive as it will be in the remaining story.

Also, next chapter, you will see the protest. It will be violent. I tried not to make it overly gory/explicit, but if you are very sensitive, it may be something to think about. Just skip that chapter and continue on, knowing the protest happened.