Notes: Beta'd by Meeni ( .com)
Also, I didn't mean for more porn to happen, but more porn happened. Enjoy.
Official symbolism calculation (because apparently I'm doing those now): 68.8% or 183 sentences of symbolism/foreshadowing/pertinence to theme. If you're brave enough to try to figure them out, you get a cookie. I once again apologize for the long wait. And for any angsty feels you may get from this chapter.
Paris, France
Rue Durantin, Montmartre
Enjolras woke before Grantaire. The sun was streaming in from the window opposite the bed and the scene was lit up. Enjolras had a hand laid upon Grantaire's chest, who had an arm wrapped loosely around Enjolras' waist. Their legs were tangled and both were still naked, having been too lazy, too blissful, too tired and happy to put on clothes.
Grantaire's hair was laid out in a dark halo around his head. His mouth was slightly agape with sleep, his lips and ever-present smirk softened in slumber. Enjolras traced his fingers up and down his sides, being careful not to wake him. He smiled softly and pressed his lips to Grantaire's head. He stayed there for a moment, breathing in the scent of him, cigarettes, paint, and the soft tinge of whiskey.
He closed his eyes briefly before a metal ding sounded from somewhere at the foot of the bed. He tried ignoring it, but it came again, then again. He sighed as got up and dug around in his pants pocket for his phone. He checked his texts.
From Combeferre: You didn't update us at all yesterday. Courf told us it was your date.
From Combeferre: But because we have trust issues when it comes to you and work, we thought you might have found a way around our 'no work' stipulation.
From Combeferre: What we're trying to say is: Skype. Now.
Enjolras sighed (Fuck them all). He rumpled around the floor as silently as he could before finding his underwear and pulling them on. He walked out into the living room where he faintly remembered dropping his bag. He found it and pulled out his laptop, plugged it in and turned it on. The call came immediately.
"Enjolras!" Bahorel shouted. He, Joly, and Bossuet were gathered around the screen. In the background he could faintly see Musichetta talking with Combeferre and what appeared to be Courfeyrac passed out on a couch. They all had a drink in their hand and it appeared like they were at Combeferre and Enjolras' apartment. The man cringed as he turned down the volume, still not wanting to wake Grantaire.
"Combeferre! 'Ferre, he's on," Joly shouted, gesturing for the man to come over.
"Morning," Combeferre said, grabbing the laptop and resting it on his lap as he sat down on the couch next to a sleeping Courfeyrac.
"Evening," Enjolras replied.
"That doesn't look like a hotel room," Combeferre told him, taking note of the kitchen behind him, well stocked with a coffee maker on the counter along with a few mugs and a pot in the sink. The others were gathered behind Combeferre, obviously drunk and eagerly waiting for Enjolras' answer. It was clear they were waiting for this all day; Enjolras began to think that they hadn't been suspicious at all, they just wanted to know if he got laid.
"That's because it's not a hotel room," Enjolras said, his voice carefully clear of all emotion.
Everyone behind Combeferre burst out in various cheers of excitement, he saw Bahorel and Musichetta exchange bet money. He wondered yet again why he chose these people to hang out with.
"Wait, wait, wait, so you're at his house?!" Joly asked excitedly.
"Where is he?" Musichetta asked, craning her head almost as like if she could bend her neck a certain way she could see around the view of Enjolras' webcam.
"He's still asleep and I would like for it to stay that way, so can please keep it down."
"Aw, Enjolras is worried about his boyfriend," Bahorel said mockingly.
"So what if I am?"
"Wait, you're not denying that he's your boyfriend," Combeferre said, his face clear of emotion, but his voice had a worried undertone. Enjolras said nothing in response.
At that moment, Grantaire called from the bedroom, "Enjolras? Qu'est-ce que tu fais?"
Enjolras looked away from the computer to call back, "Rien, juste parle à mes amis. Tu veux les rencontres maintenant?"
Grantaire peeked out of the bedroom, blinking his eyes with sleep, and saw Enjolras at the computer with his friends on the screen. On the corner, he noticed himself, only just in view of the webcam.
"Ouais, laisse-moi juste enfiler un pantalon," he said, ducking back into the bedroom; cue Musichetta and Bossuet trying to suppress giggles in the background.
"Since when do you speak fucking French?" Bahorel asked, shoving Combeferre, who still had a look of intense disapproval on his face, out of screen.
"It's just a thing you pick up."
"You've been there two days!"
Enjolras shrugged, "I'm just good with languages, I guess, and you know… full immersion and all that." He was getting very concerned with Combeferre's facial expressions. He knew the man was going to want to talk with him later.
Grantaire came out then, and wrapped his arms around Enjolras' shoulders, kissing the top of his head. Courfeyrac was awake by then and was positively squealing with delight at the cuteness of the pair.
"Tu veux quelque chose à manger?" Grantaire asked.
"Juste un café, et ce que tu prepares pour toi," Enjorlas replied kissing him quickly again as he turned to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
"He's nice, you can keep him," Courf interjected. "I wasn't really sure at first, I mean you just sent a picture and the fact that he didn't speak English. That alone was enough concern, but he seems nice enough, and I knew that French book would come in handy."
"You know I taught him English, right?"
"He did. And he's a very good teacher," Grantaire said. Enjolras would come to swear that that was the only time he ever saw Courf flush bright red from anything other than alcohol. Grantaire set a plate of toast and a couple coffees down on the table, taking a seat. "Bonjour," Grantaire greeted Enjolras' friends. They immediately began talking to them, and it was easy to tell that Grantaire fit right in, carrying along conversations with the group as easily as he did with his own friends.
Enjolras was enjoying watching this spectacle until he received a text.
From Combeferre: get away as soon as you can. I need to talk to you.
He noticed that Combeferre hadn't been on screen for a while and assumed he had ducked away for just this purpose. He quickly finished his toast and coffee, wanting to just get this over with.
"Do you mind if I shower here real quick?" he asked Grantaire.
"Of course. It's the door in the corner of the bedroom."
"Thank you," he said, pecking him quickly on the lips before heading to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and called Combeferre.
"I'm happy you got laid," Combeferre answered, "but boyfriend? Enjolras, you've known him two days and I know you're not one to do these things so quickly. In the whole time I've known you, and it's been a real long time, you've had one relationship. In high school. After months of getting up the courage to ask him out."
"I know, I know, it just…" Enjolras struggled for words, "it just feels right."
"Not to mention the fact that you're on vacation," Combeferre continued. "Vacation, Enjolras. You're only there for a month."
"I know," he sighed.
"Then why are you doing this? I saw how he looks at you. I saw how you look at him. You've only known each other for two days, but the way you look at each other, God, it's sickening. If you end this when you come home, it's going to end in heartbreak for both of you."
"So what do you want me to do?!" Enjolras asked angrily, trying to keep his voice down. "Just grab my stuff and say, 'Hey, thanks for the best date and resulting sex of my life. See you again never'?"
"No," Combeferre replied calmly. "I want to make sure you know what you're getting into. I want to make sure he knows what he's getting into because judging from the sound outside, the group seems to really like him. I don't want you guys to get hurt because you were finally relaxed for long enough to go on a date for the first time in five years."
"I know what I'm doing, Combeferre. I don't want to hurt him either," he said sadly.
"If you don't want something to happen, it won't. Just make sure you're prepared."
"I will be. Thanks, 'Ferre," Enjolras said and hung up. He quickly got in the shower and washed. He stepped out and pulled on his boxers and the shirt from yesterday.
When he went out, Grantaire and his friends were still talking and laughing about something. They were getting along well, Grantaire fitting in like a missing puzzle piece. Enjolras sat down at the table and joined the conversation.
Grantaire laughed jovially at something Courf said. "You'd like my friend Jehan, Courfeyrac."
"Is that the pretty blonde with the braid in the picture you sent me?" he asked turning to Enjolras.
"Yes."
"I already like him," he said, turning back to Grantaire. "I mean a crappy cell phone picture makes him look pretty enough, imagine what a properly pixilated rendering would look like." Courf starting to slip into reverie now. "Imagine the real thing," he sighed.
"Courf!" Enjolras said, snapping him out of his soon-to-become-pornographic trance. "No one wants to see the fantasies in your head play out on your face."
Grantaire laughed. "I don't know, it could be an interesting way to get off."
Enjolras playfully shoved him. "Shut up."
"You're right," he said, climbing into Enjolras lap, leaning him against a wall and out of view from the webcam. "I could be thinking of better ways to get off," he muttered against his lips.
"Vraiment?" Enjolras said, kissing him.
"Really. Much better."
In the background, though they didn't hear, Courf and Bahorel were yelling, "Oh God, no. No one wants to hear you making out. Shit shit shit. Fine. Fine then, enjoy your sex." They hung up.
Enjolras laughed against Grantaire's lips before the man ducked down to worry a mark over his pulse point. His hands snaked down, tickling just barely along his sides, before tucking his thumbs in Enjolras' waistband and pulling slightly, as if asking for permission.
"I just took a shower too," Enjolras laughed.
"You could always take another one," Grantaire said, pulling Enjolras up by the belt loops. "After." He pulled him to the bedroom where the bed was still unmade. "With me."
"C'est vrai." Enjolras pushed him to the bed, bracketing his hips with his legs. "Je peux."
Enjolras ran his hands down Grantaire's still shirtless chest, raking his fingernails just slightly over his hipbones. Grantaire let out a breathy moan as Enjolras leaned down to kiss along his collar bone. But then oh God, his mouth trailed downward to just barely tease his nipple with his tongue and fuck. Enjolras looked up, asking permission with a raise of his eyebrows. Grantaire wound his fingers in his hair and let out a strangled groan. Enjolras took this as an emphatic yes.
Enjolras dipped his head down again, teasing and licking and using his teeth in just the right way. And then he went to palm Grantaire over his jeans and his head fell back as he moaned, "Seigneur Dieu, why didn't I let you do this last night?"
"You're not even undressed yet," Enjolras said, trailing his lips and teeth and glorious tongue downward. He nipped at his hip bones.
"You can change that."
Enjolras leaned up to kiss him, softly, gently, just barely running his tongue along his bottom lip, one hand still palming Grantaire's erection, the other playing with his nipple in just the right ways to make him moan softly against his mouth. He smirked as he broke the kiss and ducked down again to unbutton Grantaire's jeans with his teeth. He slid the zipper over his cock, his breath hot and heady over him.
"Putain. Merde," he swore, as Enjolras looked up at him, blue eyes meeting his with a mischievous gleam that made him entirely speechless. Enjolras, smirking (the cocky bastard), slid his pants and underwear down, letting it drag just barely over his erection. "Mon Dieu, what am I going to do with you?" he asked breathily.
Enjolras, smiling tugging at the corners of his mouth, kissed him and took him in hand. "Tu peux me laisser faire ça." He tugged gently, not nearly enough friction and he knew it. He rubbed his thumb over the tip causing Grantaire to bow his head into the dip of Enjolras' neck and shoulder and muffle a moan in the skin there. "Et ça." He grabbed his head and tilted it up, kissing him roughly, all the friction that should be between his hand and Grantaire's cock put into his lips against Grantaire's. "And not to mention the fact that you could fuck me until I'm senseless." Grantaire growled against Enjolras mouth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. "Until I can't think straight." Grantaire began to suck and bite and lick at his neck greedily. "Jusqu'à ce que je ne me souvienne plus de mon proper nom."
Grantaire flipped them over and attacked Enjolras' mouth as he moved to remove his pants. "You're feisty today," Enjolras said as Grantaire kissed down his torso.
"Huh?" Grantaire hummed against his skin; 'feisty' was not a word he understood, but going off of the way Enjolras' hands were grabbing at the sheets, his hair, his shoulder, really anything, he assumed it was a good thing.
"Rien," Enjolras said as Grantaire began to kiss up the inside of his thigh. "Just… continue juste à faire ça," he breathed, his voice reaching a higher pitch than usual, and higher than he will ever willingly admit to.
Grantaire laughed against the skin of Enjolras' hip; it was a sound that went straight south. "Goddamn it, Grantaire, if you don't fuck me right now I'm going to fucking fuck," he trailed off as Grantaire took him in his mouth and his tongue was doing these things and he was looking at him with this challenging glint in his eyes and goddamn those are pretty eyes and what was he saying again?
Grantaire sucked him off until he was a babbling mess of swears and moans and breathy mutterings of Grantaire's name. He pulled off to kiss him and Enjolras' hands were tangled in his hair and both of them were painfully hard and all Grantaire could manage was, "You were saying something?" muttered against Enjolras mouth when they had to stop to breathe, but didn't want to break the connection.
"Was I?" Enjolras said between heavy breaths.
"I believe you said something about me fucking you until you can't remember anything." He grabbed Enjolras and started jerking him off slowly and languidly.
Enjolras moaned into Grantaire's shoulder. "C'est un bon idée. I should have them more often." Grantaire moaned as he kissed along Enjolras' collarbone. "Tu vas le faire?"
"Will I do what?" he asked, looking Enjolras in the eye.
"Fuck me. Prends-moi. N'importe quoi que tu veux faire. Anything you need to do."
"N'importe quoi?"
"Anything," Enjolras nodded.
Grantaire kissed him softly then, hands cupping his face. He broke the kiss and grabbed the lube, still out from last night. Enjolras bent over and Grantaire worked at opening him up, pressing one finger in, twisting just the right way, then another, crooking them to hit just the right spot that had Enjolras grabbing at the bed sheets and trying to muffle moans in them because surely Grantaire had neighbors and he doubted they would appreciate this kind of noise at 10:48 AM on a Sunday.
Grantaire kissed along the bend of Enjolras' spine. He added more lube and another finger until Enjolras was slick and ready to take everything he gave.
"Are you sure?"
"Toujours." Grantaire kissed him quickly before rolling on a condom. "Attends," Enjolras said when Grantaire kissed the nape of his neck. Grantaire stopped suddenly. "No, non, just… Je veux te voir." He turned around and Grantiare kissed him as he pushed in.
It was loving, and gentle, and caring, but it was also just the right amount of friction, and hot touches of skin on skin, and giving and taking in equal measures. Grantaire filled him in just the right way. There were soft touches and harder kisses. There were scratches along sides that spelled out "mine" in not so many ways. There were bruises sucked out of skin spelling the same thing.
They forgot then, or maybe they just didn't care, that Enjolras was on vacation. That they only had a month of this. They didn't remember that one of them lived in New York and the other lived in Paris. They forgot in that moment that an ocean separated them, for in that moment they were one and all boundaries, physical, emotional, international, were nonexistent. They weren't in Paris. They weren't even in Grantaire's apartment; they could leave his apartment, they couldn't leave this. This was simply them: soft touches, hard scratches, biting teeth, soothing tongues, locked gazes, eyes squeezed shut when it became almost too much.
And when they came together, they were swallowing each other's moans like coffee on a Monday morning or whiskey on a Thursday night. And when they came it was without thought or motive besides the need to give everything they had and take everything offered to them.
And when Grantaire dropped his head on Enjolras' shoulder and said, "I love you," he meant it.
And when Enjolras carded his fingers through his black curls and said, "Je t'aime," he meant it.
And they didn't care if they had only known each other for two days; it felt like a lifetime. They didn't care about borders or oceans or flights. They only cared about the fact "I love you" and "Je t'aime" sounded the same when spoken in the warmth of this room with the sun casting light upon them.
They stayed there for a while. Enjolras' head laid on Grantaire's chest, his right arm thrown loosely around him. Grantaire was petting his scalp, running his fingernails lightly up and down with each stroke. Grantaire hummed happily. It sounded too distant; Enjolras hugged him tighter. Grantaire sighed when he kissed Enjolras' forehead.
Enjolras should really talk to him. Right now, when both of them were too blissful to get angry. Then he took one look at Grantaire, whose smile reached his eyes when too often it didn't. Enjolras had already seen Grantaire distance himself from emotion, from anything good in his life. There were brief flashes when he could see his eyes deaden and pull away from everything. There were times when he had to snap him out of a trance that involved staring at the floor of some café, a frown pulling his eyebrows together. There were moments when he could sense in his voice a disbelief that Enjolras could even look at him, let alone touch him, kiss him, love him. Enjolras couldn't bring those things back, not now, so he remained quiet and kissed Grantaire, hoping he could chase away the thought with the movement of his lips.
Enjolras sighed and fell back on the sheets, which were already getting sticky and frankly, kind of gross. "You're going to have to change these."
"Laundry was tomorrow anyway." Grantaire fell beside Enjolras. Both were laying on their backs and the midday sunlight was streaming in through the windows. Enjolras joined their hands and Grantaire lifted them until they were backlit by the sun, making their form dark and contrasting. It felt too ominous so Enjolras lowered their hands, but kept them together. Grantaire sighed, it felt ominous for him too, but in a worse way.
Enjolras turned to him. "Didn't you say something about meeting your friends today?"
"Oui. Do you still want to?" he asked.
"Of course," Enjolras kissed him. "But first a shower."
They showered together and the water washed away all evidence of their activities, but traces still remained. There was a bruise on Grantaire's hip and it was the most beautiful mix of purple and blue and green. There were scratches along Enjolras' shoulders, faint lines of red against white skin.
Grantaire shampooed Enjolras' hair; his fingers massaged his scalp and his hands covered his head and Enjolras leaned into the touch. They laughed when Grantaire started spiking Enjolras' hair with the shampoo suds and when they kissed, the suds and bubbles washed over their closed eyes, but they didn't notice, not while electricity was humming through their lips and mouths and fingertips. They forgot ominous shapes against the sunlight like they forgot the Atlantic ocean.
Enjolras washed Grantaire's back with his right hand and stroked his shoulder with his left. They kissed under the stream of water and smiled against each other's lips. When they stepped out, Enjolras dried Grantaire whose head was bowed, hiding a slight smile. They changed and Enjolras wore Grantaire's shirt.
"I'll just ask where they are. Nobody's working, they should all be in the same place," Grantaire said, pulling out his phone and sending the text. When the reply came, he said to Enjolras, taking his hand, "Come, they're at the park."
Enjolras squeezed his hand and led them out the door.
Notes: Translations:
Qu'est-ce que tu fait?: What are you doing?
Rien, juste parle à mes amis. Tu veux les rencontres maintenant?: Nothing, just talking to my friends. Do you want to meet them now?
Ouais, laisse-moi juste enfiler un pantalon: Yeah, just let me put on some pants
Tu veux quelque chose à manger?: Do you want something to eat?
Juste un café, et ce que tu prepares pour toi: Just a coffee and whatever you're having to eat.
Vraiment?: Really?
C'est vrai. Je peux: It's true. I could.
Seigneur Dieu: God Almighty
Putain. Merde: Fuck. Shit.
Mon Dieu: My God.
Tu peux me laisser faire ça. Et ça: You could let me do this. And this.
Jusqu'à ce que je ne me souvienne plus de mon proper nom: Until I can't even remember my own name.
Rien. continue juste à faire ça: Nothing. Just keep doing that.
C'est un bon idée: That's a good idea.
Tu vas le faire: Will you do it?
Prends-moi. N'importe quoi que tu veux faire: Take me. Anything you want.
N'importe quoi?: Anything?
Toujours: Always.
Attends. Je veux te voir: Wait. I want to see you.
Je t'aime: I love you.