Chapter 25

Their kisses never felt like a fight. As combative as their words could be, their kisses were exploratory, and while not always gentle, they never needed to battle. Lips and tongues just moved together, perfectly fitted to each other and understanding of exactly what to do, while constantly trying to learn more.

If Grantaire had ever second-guessed himself and imagined that he had over-romanticized kissing Enjolras, he was wrong. When they had first started dating, Grantaire discovered that Enjolras was an incredibly fast learner, who quickly figured out each way to make Grantaire breathless with just a kiss. And, now, Grantaire knew for certain, not that he had ever doubted it, that Enjolras's memory was also infallible. Enjolras's mouth moved perfectly in tandem with Grantaire's, as if they had never been apart. As if it hadn't been months, since their last kiss. He was amazed that they hadn't forgotten.

Perhaps, our mouths are just always meant to be against one another's.

Grantaire nearly made himself giddy with this thought and pressed even more insistently against the revolutionary's deceptively soft lips. Enjolras's hand moved from where it had been stabilizing Grantaire's hips across his own to the black-haired man's shoulders, drawing him as close as possible. They sighed into each other, mouths capturing all sound and breath. All Grantaire wanted in that moment was to always keep his lips on those of his love forever. Just to kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss…

Then, Grantaire felt a vibration against his thigh.

Pulling away, he gasped a small laugh, and smiling at Enjolras, he asked, "Is that your phone in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

It took a moment before Enjolras came back to himself, just a beat before his eyes refocused and he noticed the obstinate buzzing from his pocket. Enjolras shook his head and blinked, as if to clear his head, "Probably both," he groaned, "We did just run out of a party. People are probably worried."

Grantaire leaned in slightly, not kissing Enjolras, just sharing the same air, inhaling. "Do you want to check the message?"

"All I really want is to keep kissing you…"

He answered by acquiescing, and pressing kisses to Enjolras's jaw and cheek, before a light kiss on his lips. Reluctantly, he kept it short, moving back, and shifting from straddling Enjolras to sitting next to him. "You really should answer. As you said, folks probably think one of us is dead."

"I didn't say that…" Enjolras turned his head, to smirk at Grantaire.

"Close enough." Grantaire shrugged.

Enjolras leaned his head against Grantaire's shoulder for a second, before he sat up and checked his phone.

"Who's it from?" Grantaire inquired.

"Missed call from Combeferre…and a picture message from Jehan."

"Picture message?"

Enjolras flipped the screen on his phone. His eyebrows raised slightly, "He says he sent it to you, as well…"

Quickly, he whipped out his own phone. There were several messages, all begging him to return to the party and panicking over his swift exit, many of which were from Jehan, but he immediately went to the one image from the poet.

Grantaire's lips parted slightly. The photo was one of him and Enjolras, arms around one another on the dance floor. Right before the flash had broken his concentration on Enjolras. The text itself read:

Look at you two! Look at his face! Before you do something rash, look. He loves you. There is no denying the way he looks at you. HE LOVES YOU!

He let the joy wash over him. Had he seen this before Enjolras arrived, he would not have believed it, but Jehan was right, and that made a grin cross his face.

"You know…" Enjolras mused, with the side of his lip quirking up slightly, "This may be my new favorite photo."

"Really?" Grantaire inspected his phone, unsure of whether or not he should take it as an affront. "It's a photo taken from a phone. And, I love Jehan, but he's not a photographer–"

Enjolras leaned over, kissing Grantaire to silence him, "'Aire, my love, you miss the point. As art, your photos will always be the best…this one is my favorite, because we're in it together."

For some reason this caused a blush to creep up Grantaire's neck and cheeks. He felt warm, as Enjolras nuzzled his nose against his cheek. He reached over and twined his fingers through the blond's. Enjolras squeezed his hand, and kissed his cheek.

Grantaire was about to turn his head to kiss him properly, when the door flew open.

"Oh, thank god!"

Both of the men on the couch snapped their heads to see Eponine standing in the doorway, "'Ferre, they're here…" She called out the door, then glancing at their still joined hands, "Together!"

Combeferre came bounding into the room, looking relieved, "You two…we were all so worried. You need to text us."

"Sorry, I was busy." Enjolras explained.

"I know." Combeferre smiled, "I'm glad this is what we found."

"This?" Grantaire looked confused.

"We hypothesized that you two would either end up dead or happily in each other's arms. Judging by your ruffled hair and clothes…and the lack of unmoving bodies, I would assume it was option two." Combeferre explained and winked.

Grantaire laughed, "Smart friends we have, huh?"

"Oh, yes." Enjolras agreed.

"E, have you asked him?" Combeferre inquired, suddenly serious.

"I have."

"And?"

"He said 'yes.'" A small, fond smile played at Enjolras's lips, and he tightened his fingers around Grantaire's hand again.

"Good." Immediately, the philosopher turned to his girlfriend, "Eponine, will you move to New York with me?"

The young woman looked stunned, "Huh?"

Combeferre's smile was gentle and hopeful, as he explained, "You see, Enjolras has just now asked Grantaire to move to New York with him, as there is a job opportunity for both of them, and because Enjolras isn't functional without him. Trust me, I know, I've been the one dealing with it for a while," he glared goodnaturedly at Enjolras, "And, if I'm going to take him correctly, Grantaire has just agreed to it."

"Yes." Enjolras was blushing. Grantaire found it incredibly sweet and kissed him quickly.

"So, at this time, there are a couple problems. If I'm not mistaken, Grantaire leaving, puts you out of a roommate, and Grantaire coming puts me out of one as well. I believe these problems could be solved by you moving to New York as well. Grantaire and Enjolras could find themselves an apartment, and you…" he took a breath, "could move into mine."

By the end, Eponine was grinning. From the couch, Grantaire said, "You know, 'Ponine, our manager was discussing a possible transfer of personnel to the NYC branch. I think you'd have a good shot at the job."

"Fuck, if I have to work as a bartender, I'll do it." Eponine threw her arms around Combeferre's neck and kissed him soundly.

When the kiss ended, she pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"So, yes?" Combeferre verified.

"Yes." She grinned and kissed him again.

After the newly reunited couples had contacted all their other friends, assuring them that they were alright, they enjoyed coffee and tea, before all retiring to bed.

Eponine and Combeferre exited to Eponine's room. Enjolras stood awkwardly for a moment, before Grantaire rolled his eyes, grasped the man's hand and pulled him to the bedroom. "You insane man, of course you're staying with me tonight."

"I didn't want to assume."

Grantaire tugged him closer, planting a kiss on his lips. "I think you can assume many things for tonight," Grantaire murmured into Enjolras's ear, before letting his tongue run lightly along the edge and sucking softly on his earlobe.

Enjolras shuddered, "'Aire…"

Playfully, Grantaire drew away from him to sit at the head of the bed. Enjolras instantly followed, climbing on top of Grantaire half pressing him against the wall. Their mouths met eagerly, and Enjolras slotted himself, so they were entirely pressed together, letting Grantaire slide further down, so he was lying completely on the bed.

Grantaire inhaled deeply, wrapping his arms around Enjolras's neck and threading his fingers through the curls at the base of his head.

When they made love that night, it was slow and tender, very much like their last night together.

But, this time, Grantaire knew it wasn't an ending, but a beginning.