@awreckfics I’m dumb and accidentally deleted your ask but here you go!!!! Also damn I struggled with this all day I’m sorry if it sucks!!
45. “Well. That was immensely attractive.”
(From this thing)
-
It all started because Enjolras is an insomniac and Grantaire is always working. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement that the two of them had fallen into. (Almost five months ago, Grantaire’s traitorous heart reminds him. As if that should mean something.) If Enjolras can’t sleep, he keeps Grantaire company during his shift. And they go back and forth with one another - always a new topic - sometimes laughing, sometimes shouting. Enjolras gets someone to bounce his ideas off of, someone to help his wired mind settle down. And Grantaire gets Enjolras. Some of him, anyway.
On this particular night, the bar is nearly empty save for a few regulars who sometimes linger around out front for a quick smoke after Grantaire closes up.
And Enjolras, of course. He’s talking. Grantaire watches his mouth. Waits for the curl of a smile. Delights in it.
Grantaire glances at Enjolras’s watch and sees its nearing 4:00AM. He holds his hand up in a way that means pause, and nods his head toward an unfamiliar patron who is still straggling behind.
“Come on, man,” Grantaire says, as he makes his way to the other end of the bar. “Last call was fifteen minutes ago. You gotta g - “ The man leans over the bar and grabs Grantaire by the front of his shirt. “What the fuck, man?!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Grantaire sees Enjolras bolt out of his seat. The next thing he knows, he’s been released and the other man is on the ground. Enjolras stands over him, breathing heavily, his hand still in a fist.
Grantaire stands dumbstruck. Enjolras is a wildfire.
By now, the regulars have rushed inside to witness the chaos. “Get him outta here, will you?” Grantaire asks them.
He pulls Enjolras along, leading him to the back alley behind the bar. Grantaire has spent many a drunken night in this alley, most of them doubled over and hurling all over his own shoes. He decides it’s best not to mention that to Enjolras.
Instead, “Well. That was immensely attractive.” He’s going for lighthearted. It’s also the truth.
“Yeah?” Enjolras asks. He’s grinning wildly, his chest heaving with loud, rapid breaths. His whole body seems to vibrate, a live wire that’s just snapped.
Grantaire can almost see sparks.
“Yeah,” he laughs. Enjolras is still grinning. Grantaire grins back.
“Kiss me.”
Grantaire makes a desperate sound in the back of his throat. “What?”
“Kiss me,” he repeats, as if those were words he directed at Grantaire all the time. “You want to, don’t you?”
Enjolras tucks his hair behind his ear. His hand shakes. Adrenaline.
Around them, the air is still. Cool and crisp in a way that seems to pass through you. It feels like clarity.
“I want to.”
Grantaire presses himself against Enjolras, who backs up until he’s flush against the building. Grantaire holds Enjolras’s face in his hands and kisses him, slow and deep.
He kisses him dirty. Kisses him dizzy.
When they pull away, Enjolras is no longer vibrating. He looks like he’s in a dream. He smiles at Grantaire and says, “Walk me home.”
