Archive of Our Own

1.

Enjolras was typing on his laptop when he received a knock at his door. He briefly looked up from his work and considered getting up from the couch to answer it.

“Enjolras!” The voice he knew as being unmistakably Grantaire’s called out to him.

An hour or two prior to this moment, Enjolras had texted Grantaire, asking him to come over. He did not elaborate further. Grantaire knew what he wanted from him.

Somehow, Enjolras had forgotten he had texted Grantaire. “Coming!”

The knocking became more incessant. He was sure Grantaire was doing it just to annoy him. Enjolras unlocked the door and opened it.

Grantaire smiled. “Hi.”

“Were you trying to break my door off its hinges?” Enjolras turned around and made his way back to the couch.

“Sorry. Had to piss.” Grantaire was already heading towards the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Enjolras returned to his previous position; sprawled on the couch with his laptop resting on his thighs. He had just sent off an email when he heard his name come from the hallway.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire started accusatorily, “you didn’t tell me you got a cat. I saw a litter-box.”

He looked over his screen and at Grantaire, speaking dismissively, “I’m just fostering her.”

Grantaire took off his shoes and kicked them in the direction of the entrance. Enjolras would have been annoyed if he had any intention of staying longer than an hour or two. “Why? You don’t even like cats.”

“I like cats.” Enjolras insisted with a furrowed brow. “And Éponine’s parents were gonna throw the poor thing out on the streets last week. I had no choice.”

Grantaire sat on the arm of the couch. His mouth was now agape. “Éponine’s parents were giving away their cat and she didn’t tell me?”

Enjolras snorted a laugh. “She probably knows you couldn’t handle another.”

“For your information, I’m an excellent cat owner.”

“She’s pretty shy too, I don’t know how well she would get along with another cat.” Enjolras paused his typing. “Do you think you have the time for another, though? Honestly, in between bartending, classes, and your art thing—”

“Taking commissions.” He corrected Enjolras, scowling in response to his condescending tone. “It’s not just an ‘art thing’. And are you seriously questioning my work-life balance? You sent me a Google Calendar invite for sex last week.”

Enjolras fell silent for a brief moment before he could think of an adequate reply, “I still think scheduling these, uh… things is more efficient. And speaking of, why were you an hour late? Combeferre could have been back by now.”

“He’s not and he won’t be. He’s spending the night at Courf’s.” Grantaire stated matter-of-factly. “And I wasn’t ‘late’. It took me a perfectly acceptable amount of time to get out of bed, get dressed, take the metro, and walk here.”

“Fine.” Enjolras pursed his lips, then asked, “Why were you just getting out of bed at two in the afternoon?”

“I had a long night.” Grantaire answered with a noncommittal shrug. “But I digress… What's the cat’s name?”

“I didn’t name her.” Enjolras said quickly.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Just then, the cat—as if summoned—walked into the room and sat down by the entryway. She swished her fluffy white tail back and forth. Grantaire watched and turned back to Enjolras with big eyes. “Enjolras, that is the cutest cat I’ve ever seen.”

“Her name is Princesse.” Enjolras braced for the onslaught of teasing from Grantaire.

“Oh my God, that’s even better.” He got up from the couch and crouched on the ground. “Hi, little Princesse. Minou, minou, come here you adorable ball of fluff.”

To Enjolras’ surprise, Princesse did go over to Grantaire. She nuzzled against his hand once she was close enough and Grantaire scratched under her chin. Enjolras was beginning to lose his patience. This part—the lead up—never lasted very long. He grew more annoyed when Princesse rolled onto her back and let Grantaire pet her belly, “Remember, you didn’t come here to befriend a cat.”

Grantaire grinned at him, “Enjolras, don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“Hello, little Princesse,” Grantaire continued to stroke her fluffy white fur. “I’m sorry Enjolras hates you. Probably because you remind him of his least favorite thing, a governmental structure without a constitutional democracy. It’s okay though, because I love you the way you are.”

“Grantaire.” Enjolras frowned.

Princesse was purring louder than he had ever thought a cat was capable of. “How could you not love a face like this? She literally looks like a toasted marshmallow. Is she a Ragdoll?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are you up to?” Grantaire jerked his chin at Enjolras’ laptop.

“Something for work.”

“Can it wait..?” Grantaire’s voice took on a suggestive tone.

“Uh, not really, no. I was supposed to send out these emails by yesterday.” Enjolras grimaced. “But I fell asleep while drafting them last night.”

“Must be riveting work then. And you’re absolutely sure you want to go into law?”

Enjolras rubbed at his temple. “I won’t be doing this boring intern-level crap forever.”

Grantaire shrugged indifferently. “Do you have any treats for her?”

“On top of the fridge.”

Grantaire made his way to the kitchen. Without tearing his eyes away from the screen, Enjolras heard meowing followed by the rattle of cat treats on the floor. When Grantaire returned, he stood in front of the couch.

“You can’t text me ‘come over’ and expect me to watch you do work the whole time.” Grantaire moved Enjolras’ legs aside so he could join him on the couch cushions. “It’s not fair. And kind of cruel actually.”

“I’m almost done, I swear.” Enjolras felt the painful pressure behind his eyes of a crippling headache coming along. Grantaire put a hand on Enjolras’ knee. Enjolras lowered his laptop screen to look at Grantaire. He contemplated his next words carefully. “I never said you just have to sit there and watch.”

Grantaire turned to face Enjolras, he leaned in closer. “And what do you mean by that, exactly?”

Enjolras balanced his laptop on one leg, unbuttoning his jeans with his free hand. “If you want to wait you can. But I’m a good multitasker.”

Grantaire looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. “Just say what you want, Enj.”

“Your mouth on my dick?” Enjolras spoke like he was discussing a project proposal. Impassive, yet entirely serious.

Grantaire unzipped Enjolras’ jeans for him. “Oh, good, I hoped that’s where you were going with that.”

Enjolras moved his laptop closer to his abdomen. Grantaire had started to tug at his jeans, he lifted his hips so he could pull them down further. Enjolras parted his legs as much as he could with his jeans at his mid-thigh. Grantaire spat into his own palm. Enjolras bit down on his lip as Grantaire took his cock out of his boxers and began stroking him to hardness.

Enjolras’ eyes eventually wandered back to the screen of his laptop. He attempted to read through a case brief, but found difficulty in focusing. He opened a new tab to take notes. He mistyped four words in one sentence before giving up completely and going back to skimming the text. Grantaire’s hand left his cock.

“Why’d you stop?” Enjolras asked, his chest already heaving.

“You looked like you needed a break.” The corner of Grantaire’s mouth had turned upward. He shut the laptop closed with the hand that wasn’t slick with spit and pre-cum. “From your work, that is.”

Enjolras huffed—more out of frustration than with trouble breathing. That is what he told himself. “I was doing just fine.” Grantaire moved Enjolras’ laptop to the table. “Hey–”

“You are good at plenty of things, my friend, but multitasking you are not.”

Enjolras ignored that comment. “If you are going to keep me from my work, please, don’t feel the need to drag this out.”

Grantaire scoffed. “Well, you never have to worry about that issue, do you?”

Enjolras’ face turned a shade of red. “Just get on with it.”

“You’re going to have to ask a little nicer than that.”

Enjolras’ eye twitched. Whether it was due to pure frustration or lack of sleep, he couldn’t exactly tell. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Grantaire tilted his head.

“Fuck you. You enjoy this, don’t you?”

Grantaire laughed lightly. “Yeah, a little. I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t.”

“Please suck my cock,” Enjolras said quickly with little inflection. “There.”

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?”

Enjolras groaned before Grantaire even took his cock into his mouth. He absolutely hated Grantaire’s mouth in nearly every context. It being on his own body in most capacities, however, was not one of them.

Enjolras tangled his fingers into Grantaire’s curls. Grantaire could take all of him down to the hilt. And that’s what he did just then. “Fuck, R.”

If anyone could make cock-sucking an art, it was Grantaire. He moved up and down slowly. Enjolras bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making any embarrassing noises.

Grantaire’s eyes flashed back up at Enjolras as he licked at the underside of his shaft. Enjolras wanted so desperately to buck his hips up into Grantaire’s touch. Then Grantaire’s hand was pushing one of his legs further apart from the other. Enjolras was confused momentarily until Grantaire began sucking and biting at his inner thighs.

“God, Grantaire I…”

“What?” Grantaire’s response was somewhat muffled. He stopped to look up at Enjolras from between his legs.

Enjolras stared at him like he had forgotten Grantaire could hear him. He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, but then closed it. “Never mind. Keep going.”

Grantaire gave him a strange look, but then returned to the task at hand. He had stopped taking his time, however. Enjolras’ hand had slipped out of Grantaire’s hair. Grantaire retrieved it and put it back in its previous position.

Grantaire sunk back down on his cock, and began to move his head up and down the length of it. He gripped Enjolras’ hips hard. Enjolras was sure he couldn’t have moved them if he tried. With the hand that wasn’t buried in Grantaire’s curls, he clenched the couch cushion beneath him.

Enjolras noticed his own breathing had somehow increased and that he had unknowingly become less vigilant about letting particular noises escape his lips. “R, ’m close.”

Grantaire slid one of his hands beneath Enjolras’ shirt and up his torso. He grazed his hand over his ribs before settling on the plane of his stomach. It all became too much for Enjolras. Grantaire’s throat taking him so well. Grantaire’s hand holding down his hip and the other practically laying claim to him, as it rested atop his flexing abdominal muscles. The obscene wet sounds that came from Grantaire’s mouth and him moaning around his cock.

Enjolras came quickly with a small cry. Grantaire swallowed his release down with little effort. He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I hope that puts you in a better mood.” Grantaire got off the couch and stretched his limbs.

Enjolras tucked himself back into his boxers and pulled his jeans up, not bothering to zip or button them. “I’ve had a stressful week. Month.” Year. “But I wasn’t being rude.”

“You were being a little rude.” Grantaire sat back down. “What did you want to say to me earlier? During…”

Enjolras turned away from him. “Nothing. I forget.”

“Do you actually forget? Or do you just not want to say?” Grantaire demeanor shifted.

“I…” Enjolras started. “I don’t know. Can I just… Let me return the favor, okay?”

“You’re such a bad liar, Enj.”

“Can’t you just drop it? It wasn’t important, I swear.” Enjolras felt the hazy, warm feeling from before fade away and the sharp edges of reality returning.

Grantaire let out a heavy sigh. “I wish you would trust me more.”

Enjolras finally looked back at him. “Why?”

Grantaire shrugged a shoulder. “We’re friends..? I want you to feel comfortable sharing things with me.”

“Why should I?” Enjolras swallowed. “I just… Sorry, but you know why it’s hard to trust you though, right?”

Grantaire shook his head.

Enjolras wanted to feel bad, but couldn't. “You’ve let me down too much. I can’t put trust in you, R—you don’t take anything seriously.

Grantaire wet his lip, then stood up. “I should go.”

“Grantaire, wait.” Enjolras got up as well. “Don’t.”

“Why? You were going to kick me out soon, anyways. What difference does it make if I save us both the trouble and leave now?”

Enjolras did not know what else to say. He hated this feeling. But he hated Grantaire more for making him feel this way. Over something that wasn’t even his fault. He looked away from Grantaire’s sad, almost pathetic, gaze.

He felt Grantaire’s eyes stare back at him for a short moment. “Yeah,” he sighed, “that’s what I thought.”

The door shut behind Grantaire with a loud thud.

2.

Grantaire did not attend that week’s meeting at the Musain. Enjolras hadn’t seen him since their last falling out.

Enjolras found himself growing more frustrated with all of this. Sure, he had been a little cruel, but he had also been honest. In fact, he had been perfectly reasonable in his behavior. But in spite of this, Grantaire was acting like Enjolras was the one at fault.

Nonetheless, Enjolras carried on throughout the next few days without him.

-

And the week after that, Grantaire was missing yet another meeting. To Enjolras, this was the only thing that did make sense out of this whole situation. After all, Grantaire did not seem to care about anything beyond his pathetic little life. Enjolras never understood why Grantaire came to their meetings in the first place if all he did while there was criticize his actions and argue with him. But now, Enjolras supposed Grantaire had finally realized that his presence was not needed nor wanted by him at their meetings.

But Enjolras was going on yet another unchecked rant about a social issue—he could not remember of what nature exactly—when Grantaire walked into the room and found a seat by Bahorel or Joly. Enjolras faltered, finished his small speech, and sat back down. Combeferre had said something to him, but he found it difficult to concentrate.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” Enjolras straightened his posture and turned back to Combeferre.

“Enjolras, are you okay?” He asked. Combeferre then exchanged a curious look with Courfeyrac.

“Oh, uhm,” Enjolras fidgeted with his hands under the table. He also noticed that he had started bouncing his leg up and down. “Yeah, I’m just thinking about some project deadlines.”

“We’re almost done with this meeting,” Courfeyrac leaned in closer to them both, “you should let ’Ferre and I finish up here, so you can head home now.”

“That’s not necessary I…” Enjolras tried to form the words, but failed. He chewed his bottom lip before sighing, “Yeah, okay fine.”

“Get some rest, please.” Combeferre said without looking up from his own laptop screen.

Enjolras wanted to laugh. “And how many hours of sleep are you running on?”

Combeferre smiled defensively. “Enough. I’m in better shape than you are right now. Just go home, Enj… and get at least six hours.”

Enjolras nodded. He packed up his things and slung his messenger bag over one shoulder. “Don’t leave until you’ve drafted an agenda for our Saturday meeting. And send it to me when you're done.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Courfeyrac had already started typing.

They both waved him off and Enjolras turned to leave. He passed the table where Grantaire sat, nursing a beer with the others. Then he paused, and found himself going to said table.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said calmly. Grantaire turned around, facing him with apathy. “Can I have a word with you?”

Grantaire put down his bottle. The rest of the table continued their conversation. “It seems you already are.”

Enjolras frowned slightly. “Would you care to step outside with me?”

“Your face makes me think I am in trouble. I have been good this meeting, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt that. It would be quite difficult to stir up trouble in all of the five minutes you’ve been here. Even for you, I mean.”

“Thanks.”

“Just come.” Enjolras left the room without checking to see if Grantaire had followed. He made it down the stairs of the Musain and outside when he first turned around.

Grantaire was looking at Enjolras expectantly.

Enjolras glanced at the cobblestone street. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“That’s quite presumptuous.” Grantaire scoffed. “Did it ever cross your mind that I might be living a life beyond yours?”

“You have, though, haven’t you?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“Do you always have to be this difficult?” Enjolras turned on one foot and began walking down the street, not caring whether Grantaire was trailing behind or not. It was too cold outside to be dealing with him.

“At least I’m not scared of people.” Grantaire’s footsteps clacked behind him on the slightly wet pavement. Enjolras had nearly forgotten that it had rained earlier.

Enjolras looked back at him with utter confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Grantaire caught up with him. “You hardly let anyone in. I’ve known you five years and we’ve never had a conversation go beyond politics or meaningless sex.”

Enjolras scoffed and continued walking. He really should have worn a coat. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I just don’t like you?”

“Then why’d you ask me to come outside with you? What were you expecting, Enjolras?”

“I—I don’t know.” He admitted. “An explanation for the past few weeks?”

Grantaire laughed bitterly. “And here I thought you brought me outside to apologize. God, I’m an idiot.”

“Apologize for what?” Enjolras turned the corner. Grantaire went with him.

“For being one of the smartest people I know, you’re pretty damn stupid.”

Enjolras’ frustration was a burning fire in his chest. And everything Grantaire said only seemed to stoke the flames. “I obviously don’t know what I did to upset you, so either tell me, or don’t. But I don’t know what you expect me to do right now, because I don’t fucking know what you’re upset about.”

Grantaire sneered. “Y’know it’s really impressive you're able to have any semblance of friends with how emotionally stunted you are.”

“This is unbelievable.” Enjolras let out an exasperated laugh. He could see his own breath in the cold air. “If you want to talk about emotional immaturity, we can go there. How about the reason no one in the society can trust you with a simple task? Even if your sorry excuse for a life depended on it.”

“Nothing you have ever asked me to do has been so important.” Grantaire returned.

“Then stop coming to these meetings. Stop talking to me.”

“I have the right to see my friends when I want. And if I may remind you, you asked to talk to me.”

“You must be doing this just to torture me, right?” Enjolras’ skin grew hotter just looking at him.

“I just want you to apologize, Enjolras. If that is even something you are capable of.” Grantaire answered. “Or maybe just admit to me that you have the emotional intelligence of a toddler.”

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t owe you anything, Grantaire. We aren’t friends. You know that.”

“For someone who preaches the words of égalité and fraternité for the good of society, you have surprisingly little qualms about treating the people in your life like complete shit.”

“Oh, that privilege is reserved for you and you only.” Enjolras faced him briefly before digging through his pockets for his keys.

“I’m flattered. Really.” Grantaire waited in front of Enjolras. “It’s an honor to occupy the only part of your life that isn’t taken over by stupid fantasies of martyrdom or unachievable class revolution.”

Enjolras pulled the keys out of his pocket and pointed them at Grantaire. “Yet that’s more than what anyone can say about your pitiful abyss of a mind. Everyone should just abandon all their hopes and dreams like you, right? We should all just give up and be miserable like you, huh?” He turned the keys into the first door and opened it. Then he typed a code into the second. “Eat, sleep, drink, and fuck—that’s all you’re capable of thinking about.”

He stepped inside but turned around to look at Grantaire standing on the stoop. “Well, now at least I understand why you keep me around. But I also think you hate being reminded you're just as human as me or anybody else.”

Enjolras tugged him into the cramped hallway. “Anybody else I wouldn’t have an issue with, it’s just you and how I can’t stand to be reminded of how similar we are.”

Grantaire fell silent. Enjolras was practically dragging him up the staircase by his wrist.

When they made it to the third floor, Enjolras dropped his arm in favor of his key ring. He unlocked the apartment door and held the door open for Grantaire.

“In what ways are we similar?” Grantaire asked.

“What?” He dropped his messenger bag on the floor and began taking his shoes off in anticipation. He could hardly feel his toes. “I don’t know… I—can we not talk about this right now?”

Grantaire scoffed. “Yeah, you seem to skirt around that issue enough in your own head so I won’t torment you about it now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Grantaire shrugged one shoulder. “The theme of the night: you lack emotional depth.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s a strong word, maybe you should process that emotion some more—”

“Shut up! I do hate you—you make me hate you!” Enjolras threw his hands in the air like he was a step away from throttling Grantaire. “It’s like some sick game you play with yourself. You think you’re undeserving of love or something so you prod and you push until I want to fucking kill you! Maybe there’s something wrong with both of us but at least I can admit it now instead of projecting like you do all the time!”

Grantaire looked ready to protest. “I—”

“Stop talking.” Enjolras’ voice was close to breaking. “For once in your life can you fucking shut up, Grantaire. For the love of God, please!”

“Enjolras—”

Grantaire was cut off this time by Enjolras’ lips on his. They never kissed—Enjolras had a rule about that. This was entirely new and very dangerous. Grantaire clasped the side of his face with one hand and pushed Enjolras back slightly. He looked at Enjolras’ lips.

“What are you doing, Enjolras?” Grantaire asked, but it came out as a flat statement.

Enjolras bit his bottom lip. “I don’t know.”

“We should stop.”

“I don’t want to.”

Grantaire caught Enjolras’ lips back in a desperate kiss. He threaded his fingers into Enjolras’ hair. Enjolras gasped a little, allowing Grantaire to explore more of his mouth.

Enjolras blindly fumbled for Grantaire’s belt, attempting to undo it by touch alone. It was proving quite difficult. While fixated on this task, Grantaire used Enjolras’ distraction to his advantage and pinned him against the closest wall by the front door. Enjolras took Grantaire’s lower lip in between his teeth in retaliation.

“Ouch.” Grantaire slid one hand over Enjolras’ waist.

“Don’t be a baby.” Enjolras’ eyes narrowed slightly. Grantaire mouthed at Enjolras’ jaw roughly and then his neck. Enjolras’ closed his eyes and let him continue. At least he wasn’t cold anymore. Then he jerked back at a particularly hard bite at his throat. “Leave any marks, and I’ll kill you.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “And I’m the baby? Your pain tolerance is remarkably weak.”

Enjolras looked into his eyes. “It’s not that.”

Grantaire tugged Enjolras’ hips closer to his own by his belt loops. “Oh, I see—you don’t want anyone to know you associate with me.”

Enjolras nodded curtly. “Precisely.”

Grantaire groaned, presumably with irritation. “I’d leave right now if I didn’t want to fuck that throat of yours so bad.”

Enjolras swallowed hard. In lieu of words, he guided Grantaire’s mouth back to his and kissed him fervently. His mind felt good like this—completely clouded by lust. He pulled away to lead Grantaire down the hall and to his bedroom. Grantaire practically did not let him leave his grasp.

It was a heated struggle to make it to Enjolras’ door. But they eventually did and Enjolras had to shove Grantaire’s chest just to get his tongue out of his mouth long enough to turn the door handle.

Enjolras wiped the mix of saliva from his lips with the side of his hand. “This doesn’t mean I hate you any less.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Enjolras scoffed and opened his door. He waited for the familiar touch of Grantaire clinging to him, but felt nothing. He turned around.

Grantaire had stooped to the ground and beckoned Princesse over to him. Enjolras had not even realized she was nearby.

Enjolras shot him a look of mild annoyance, though that was unintentional.

“What? I think she missed me,” Grantaire scratched her chin and ran his hand over her back as she nuzzled against his knees. He cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Hello, Princesse, did you miss me? I missed you. I missed your big eyes and your cute little nose.”

Enjolras went into his room and stripped down to his underwear. Grantaire was still petting the cat when he peered out into the hallway. “So was what you said earlier an empty promise or…?”

Grantaire looked up at Enjolras. “Jealousy is not a good look on you.”

“Fuck you.” Enjolras walked over to his bed and collapsed onto it with a huff.

“Try taking off the boxers,” Grantaire called from outside of the room, “that might be more appealing.”

Enjolras ignored him.

A minute or two later, Grantaire finally joined him. Enjolras stroked himself to full hardness in the meanwhile. Grantaire successfully removed his belt and undid his fly.

“Can you lock the door?” Enjolras withdrew his hand from his boxers.

Grantaire rolled his eyes before shutting the door firmly and locking it. He came closer to the bed. “Happy?”

“Almost. Take off your clothes.”

“What if I didn’t?”

Enjolras thought it over carefully. “Whatever gets you out of here faster.”

Grantaire pouted. “You don’t really mean that do you?”

Enjolras gave him a brief, belittling smile. “I’m afraid I do.”

Grantaire climbed onto the mattress next to him. “You can be such a spoiled brat sometimes, do you know that?”

Enjolras snorted a laugh. “Well, are you going to do anything about it, or are you just going to keep wasting my time?”

“Aw, listen to you, you want my cock so bad.” A stupid grin spread across Grantaire’s face.

Enjolras was tempted to kick him off of the bed. His face flushed. “What I want is to get off.”

“...and if sucking my dick gets you there, who am I to deny you that pleasure?”

Enjolras moved further up the bed and sank down into the pillows. “Whatever. You’re insufferable. Do whatever you’d like. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Grantaire straddled Enjolras’ middle. He clicked his tongue with disapproval, “Again, with this brattish behavior, someone ought to teach you better.”

Enjolras did not appear amused in the slightest. He looked up at Grantaire with a lifted brow.

Grantaire laughed lightly to himself and reached out to thumb at Enjolras’ bottom lip. He pressed it down and then slid it into his mouth, cupping his jaw with the other fingers. “Such a pretty mouth. It’s a shame, the things that come out of it.”

Grantaire prodded a bit more—both physically and verbally—before removing his fingers and wiping them dry on his pants. Then he pushed his jeans further down his thighs. Enjolras helped.

Enjolras opened his mouth, nearly indifferently. Then Grantaire’s cock was resting heavy on the back of his tongue. He held on to Grantaire’s thighs.

Grantaire moved his hips forward, imperceptibly so. Enjolras gagged slightly and Grantaire stopped immediately. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Grantaire tried again—this time, slower. When Enjolras did not flinch, he did it again.

He fucked his throat with ever-increasing ardor. By the end, the threat of tears had come to Enjolras’ eyes. Grantaire came in his mouth. Enjolras swallowed some, but spat most of it on the ground.

“Enjolras.” Grantaire shifted down lower on the mattress, still atop of Enjolras.

“I’ll clean it up later.” He dismissed him.

Grantaire sighed, but then slid his own hand underneath the waistband of Enjolras’ boxers. He stroked Enjolras’ cock until some of the tears that had pricked at Enjolras’ eyes before had spilled over. His face turned a deeper shade of red and he wiped them away.

Enjolras knew he should not have kissed Grantaire earlier. He looked like he wanted to kiss him again. Perhaps, that would feel less intimate than both their heavy breathing and moans filling the air, their faces so close to one another.

But he knew Grantaire well enough that he would not dare to kiss Enjolras in a moment like this for fear of his reaction. Enjolras liked that. Perhaps that was the only trait of Grantaire’s that he enjoyed. Physical attributes excluded, of course.

Grantaire brought him off quickly. Enjolras twisted his hands in the sheets below him as Grantaire continued to fist his cock.

“Oh my God,” Enjolras pushed Grantaire’s hand away, “stop, stop, stop, please.”

Grantaire did. Then he rolled over and stretched by Enjolras’ side. “If law school doesn’t pan out, you’ll always have a successful career as a pornstar.”

“Get out of my bed.”

“Hey,” he looked over at Enjolras, upset, “I was trying to compliment you. Seriously, though, where did you learn to suck dick like that?”

“Out. Now.” Enjolras groaned. He already regretted this.

Grantaire stood up and zipped his pants. He left the room without saying a word. Enjolras closed his eyes. He was tired and hazy and honestly cared little if Grantaire was truly leaving for the night.

But then Grantaire was back with some paper towels from the kitchen. He crouched to clean the cum off Enjolras’ floor.

Enjolras opened his eyes. “How courteous.”

“How else am I to thank you for the best blowjob I’ve ever received?” Grantaire tossed the used paper towels into a nearby waste bin.

Enjolras scoffed and resisted a smirk. “You don’t mean that.”

Grantaire shrugged. “I do.”

“Fine. Thanks.” Enjolras licked his lip. “You should probably go now. Combeferre will be home soon.”

“Yeah, alright.” Grantaire leaned on the doorframe. “Good night, Enjolras.”

“’Night.” Enjolras yawned.

“Give Princesse my love.”

Enjolras hummed in the affirmative.

He then heard Princesse meowing loudly as Grantaire tried to leave the apartment. It almost sounded like she was crying. Enjolras would have gotten up to check on her, if it hadn’t quickly been followed by soft hushing and Grantaire’s muffled words in a reassuring tone. The desperate meowing got quieter, and Enjolras eventually drifted off.

3.

A week later, they were back to their usual routine. Enjolras would text Grantaire. Grantaire would come over. They’d fool around for a bit and then Grantaire would leave. Nothing more.

He rarely went to Grantaire’s place. Enjolras had the luxury of having a roommate with an intensive work week, but also a loving boyfriend who wanted him to spend most nights at his apartment. Grantaire did not have this same luxury.

The one of two times he had gone to Grantaire’s for sex nearly ended in disaster. They fucked on Grantaire’s bed and then showered together—to save time and water, of course—but Bahorel came into the bathroom halfway through Enjolras’ second orgasm. They did not lock the door because Bahorel was not supposed to be back until later that night.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Bahorel’s voice came from the other side of the shower curtain. Enjolras conjectured this remark was in response to his slightly more-than-enthusiastic vocal encouragement.

“What are you doing? Get out—I’m about to be done in here.” Grantaire answered with all the calmness he could as he eased his fingers back out of Enjolras.

“Had to take a piss. And one of my classes got cancelled, so I came back here to nap before I’m out again—are you sure you don’t want to tag along tonight? Joly misses you.”

“I, uh can’t. There's an assignment that I have to finish later.” Grantaire lied.

Enjolras was preoccupied with slowing his breathing and making himself as quiet as possible, lest Bahorel make some reasonable deductions about what Grantaire was actually up to.

The toilet flushed and then the faucet turned on. “Fine, have fun with that. And don’t let me being in the apartment stop you from whatever you were doing before I got here.”

“Ew. Stop.”

“Whatever. See you later.”

And the door shut behind him.

-

Now, Enjolras was in his own bathroom. In his own shower. Alone.

He was waiting for Grantaire to show up. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off before wrapping a towel around his waist.

He was walking to his own room when a knock came from the front door. Enjolras contemplated putting some clothes on, but quickly realized the futility of such a task and went to answer the door.

“Hi.” Grantaire stepped closer.

“Hello.” Enjolras shut the door as Grantaire made his way in.

“I come bearing gifts.” Grantaire held up a small paper bag. Enjolras must have made a displeased face because Grantaire quickly added. “They’re not for you.”

“Oh.” He tried not to look as physically relieved as he felt.

Grantaire placed the bag on the kitchen counter. He pulled the first item out. It was a bag of cat treats. “These are Tortue’s favorites.”

“Tortue?” Enjolras tilted his head.

“My cat.” Grantaire looked at him with raised brows. “The tortoiseshell cat you met last week at my place?”

Now he was embarrassed. Grantaire had brought presents with him, while Enjolras couldn’t even be bothered to remember his cat’s name. “Right.”

“And I got this too, after I noticed the shameful lack of toys for Princesse here.” Grantaire took out a little fish-shaped toy. “It has catnip inside.”

Enjolras smiled faintly to himself as he turned it over in his hands. “Thanks. I’ve been meaning to get her more stuff. Combeferre wants to keep her.”

Grantaire practically gasped before turning to Enjolras. “You should. But, do you want to keep her?”

Enjolras looked around and then back at Grantaire. He nodded slightly, “Yes.”

Grantaire opened the packaging of the cat toy. “I’m glad. You needed some company when ’Ferre is gone most of the day.”

Without thinking, Enjolras had almost told Grantaire that he kept him good company when Combeferre wasn’t around. But he decided against it at the last minute.

Grantaire shook the bag of treats and soon the light pitter patter of Princesse’s paws could be heard coming their way.

-

Not long after that, Enjolras and Grantaire relocated to the bedroom. Grantaire kissed his neck but nowhere else. Enjolras felt prompted to say something about that but couldn’t find the words.

As usual, the process was quite rushed. Enjolras removed Grantaire’s shirt and helped him out of his pants quickly. Enjolras took care of his own undressing too. Grantaire always made it go on longer than what was necessary, touching whatever skin was newly exposed or making excessive remarks with each article of clothing discarded.

Then, Grantaire opened him up with aching slowness. Enjolras had given up on trying to get the upper hand by this point.

Enjolras moved his hips up into Grantaire’s touch. “Next time, I’ll do this myself.”

Grantaire groaned, “Fuck, I’d love to see that.”

Enjolras’ breath hitched, but he scoffed casually after. “Could that have been your plan all along?”

Grantaire grinned at him. “I’m not as clever as you seem to think.”

“You can be clever when you're—ah, motivated.” Enjolras shut his eyes tight and unwillingly arched his back off the mattress a little. “That’s good I think, you can stop, please.”

“You’re sure?” Grantaire withdrew his fingers. “And thanks—I think.”

“You’re welcome. It was meant to be a compliment.” As Enjolras looked into his eyes, he suddenly became horribly aware of the fact that he and Grantaire had not fought at all since arriving at the apartment earlier.

“You need to get better at those, then.”

Enjolras nodded. He wondered if Grantaire would actually consider them to be friends—in spite of all the shitty things he’s said to Grantaire in the past. It seemed a silly question to ask now, especially as Grantaire was moments away from being inside him. Enjolras felt a wave of nausea at the unanticipated intimacy of it all.

“Are you okay?” Grantaire asked.

“Yeah,” Enjolras answered quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seemed out of it for a second, I don’t know.”

“I’m fine. I’d be better if you’d actually fuck me, though.”

“Okay,” Grantaire laughed a little with knitting brows, “no need to be snappy.”

“I’m not—” Enjolras huffed. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Grantaire looked at him expectantly. Enjolras did not know what to do.

He rolled over, onto his stomach and facing away from Grantaire. “I want you to fuck me like this. Okay?”

Grantaire ran a hand over the side of Enjolras’ ribs. It sent a shiver down his spine. “Of course.”

He started on his hands and knees. Then just propped on his elbows. Then gasping for air as Grantaire held onto his stomach and waist.

Enjolras buried his face in his arms and pillow as he came loudly. Grantaire followed seconds or minutes later, it was difficult to tell. He left some open-mouth kisses near the nape of Enjolras’ neck before pulling out and collapsing on his back.

They laid there in silence for a bit. Grantaire moved to the side. Enjolras looked over his shoulder at Grantaire, who was just as out of breath as he was. Grantaire reached over and pushed the hair that had stuck to Enjolras’ forehead with sweat out of his face.

Grantaire opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, then closed it. He got out of bed and pulled on his boxers. Enjolras watched as he made his way to the door. He briefly contemplated asking Grantaire where he was going, but was too exhausted to form full sentences.

When Grantaire opened the door, Princesse sat on the floor of the hallway with her new fish toy. “Hi, little marshmallow,” Grantaire crouched down low to pet her. “Do you like your new toy?”

Enjolras was still trying to will his body to stop trembling when he turned over to see Princesse being held in Grantaire’s arms. She had never let Enjolras carry her like that. He’s pretty sure he still has the scars from their trip to the vet last month.

“Sorry about your door,” Grantaire was speaking to him now, while rocking Princesse like a baby.

Enjolras was struggling to process the fact that this was the same person who had just fucked him into the mattress hard enough to leave him seeing stars. “My door..?”

Grantaire nodded in its direction. “She must have been scratching at it—the paint’s all messed up.”

“Mm,” Enjolras put his pillow over his head and mumbled. “Combeferre won't be too happy about that. Maybe he’ll choose getting our deposit back over keeping her.”

“Relax. I can fix it, if you want.” Grantaire set Princesse carefully down on the bed. Enjolras turned over onto his back. Enjolras gave up on his attempt to smother himself with his own pillow. “I’ll be right back.”

Several minutes later, Grantaire returned with a glass of water and a washcloth. He took a sip from the glass before handing both items over to Enjolras.

“Thanks.” Enjolras drained half of the glass and then cleaned himself up.

Grantaire remained by his side, absentmindedly petting Princess. She seemed to have made herself quite comfortable, purring with closed eyes by Enjolras’ legs. Enjolras, too, felt himself grow tired.

Then Grantaire stood up and began dressing himself. Enjolras was unsure why, but he felt a small twinge of sadness. “I have to go take care of some things back home before my shift tonight.”

Enjolras wondered how much of that statement was true. Maybe it was easier for Grantaire to make an excuse to leave before Enjolras could kick him out. But now that he considered it, he wouldn’t mind if Grantaire wanted to stay a little longer. “Okay.”

Once Grantaire was fully clothed he went to the door and looked back at Enjolras, now worn out, clean, and tangled up in blankets. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Enjolras answered, eyelids already falling shut.

“Enjoy your cat nap.” Grantaire left the door slightly ajar.

Against his best efforts, Enjolras smiled to himself.

When he woke up an hour later, Princesse was still curled up by him, in the empty space that Grantaire had previously occupied. It was the longest she had ever been near him.

4.

The next time Enjolras saw Grantaire it was at Courfeyrac and Marius’ place. Joly and Combeferre had just gotten their results back for their Parcours d’Accès Spécifique Santé exams. They had both passed. So naturally, they had to celebrate.

Enjolras, too, had reason to celebrate. After weeks of studying, and several gruelling all-nighters, he passed all of his finals with flying colors. He had a paid internship lined up for the next several months at one of the country’s top law firms and was signed on to do some volunteer work for an upcoming senatorial campaign. Needless to say, he was looking forward to both his summer and this night of rejoicing with friends.

Then Grantaire arrived, late as usual. Enjolras couldn’t tell how he should feel. Grantaire seemed cool and collected, already striking up a conversation with Jehan and Bossuet whilst simultaneously being released from a hug by Éponine.

Enjolras drank more of the cheap wine being passed around—they had already emptied the celebratory champagne. He was jealous of Grantaire’s ability to get along so well with others. Well, everyone it seemed but him.

-

He spent the rest of the night skillfully avoiding Grantaire.

But Courfeyrac and Marius’ apartment was by no means spacious. So it was only a matter of time before the two would cross paths. Thirty-six minutes to be exact. Not that Enjolras was paying too much attention to that.

He bumped into Grantaire in the hallway on his way to the bathroom. A noise almost like ‘hi’ but not quite escaped Enjolras’ lips.

“Now you’re avoiding me.” Grantaire leaned against the wall.

“No I’m not.”

“And you’re drunk?”

“No… I’m not.”

Grantaire laughed. “Oh my God, I never get to see you like this. This is awesome—I love drunk Enjolras.”

“I’m not drunk.” Enjolras tried very carefully not to slur his words.

“Okay,” Grantaire bit his lip with a small grin. “It’s fine if you are, though. I like seeing you when you're not on the verge of self-induced cardiac arrest. You deserve a break.”

Enjolras tried to get by him. Grantaire blocked his path. “I have to pee.”

Grantaire relented and moved out of Enjolras’ way. “Don’t feel like you have to avoid me tonight.”

“I wasn’t.”

Grantaire raised one eyebrow at him. “Fine. Come find me later.”

Enjolras considered it. “Okay.”

He shut the door on Grantaire.

-

What had started as a somewhat tasteful celebration for Combeferre and Joly had divulged into something more akin to a party one of them would throw back when they were all in undergrad.

Enjolras lost count of how many drinks he had consumed. In spite of this, he never went up to Grantaire again after their short interaction.

He woke up on the couch at some ungodly hour, he was sure. But his friends all seemed to be there so it could not have been so late. There was a movie playing on the TV and some were still sleeping, while others were carrying on hushed conversations.

Enjolras stood up on wobbly legs. The room was still spinning a bit. He went to check the time, but apparently he had lost his phone. And keys. And wallet. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been this intoxicated.

He wandered around the small apartment until he came to the Juliet balcony where Bahorel and Grantaire seemed to be smoking together.

“Hey, Enjolras.” Bahorel waved at him. Grantaire gave him a small smile.

“Hi,” Enjolras swallowed. Grantaire looked really good in the silvery moonlight. “Have either of you seen my phone, or keys, or uhm, wallet?”

“Aw, are you heading out?” Bahorel asked.

At the same time Grantaire laughed light-heartedly, “Jesus, Enjolras, you're a mess.”

Enjolras frowned, even with Grantaire’s joking tone. Bahorel shot Grantaire a quick glance before saying, “I’ll go look for them. I can call your phone right now.”

“Thank you.” Enjolras said, only a little embarrassed to be such a ‘mess’, as Grantaire so aptly put it.

“No problem. You two behave while I’m gone.” He passed the joint back over to Grantaire.

Grantaire offered it to Enjolras, who accepted. He leaned against the railing and took the rolled paper between his lips.

“Have fun tonight?” Grantaire tilted his head.

Enjolras exhaled and passed the joint back to Grantaire. “Grantaire… why,” he looked up from the streets below and squinted at Grantaire, “Why aren’t you as drunk as me?”

Grantaire laughed slightly. “Because I’m sober. Well…” he nodded towards the joint between his fingers, “you know what I mean. But yeah, uh, five months sober, actually.”

“Oh. Are you serious? That’s…” Enjolras fumbled for words. “Congrats. I mean, that’s like, really great. I’m proud of you, R—I mean that.”

Grantaire scrunched his nose a bit, as if accepting any praise from Enjolras made him uncomfortable. It probably did, he thought.

“Thanks.” Grantaire took a few more puffs of the joint before stubbing it out on the iron railing. The brief moment of silence was brought to an end when Bahorel returned with Enjolras’ things.

He handed them back to Enjolras. “Grantaire should probably take you home tonight.”

“What?” Enjolras’ voice nearly broke. How did Bahorel know the very thought that had just entered his mind a minute ago? He took a small step away from Grantaire, putting a purely platonic amount of distance between them.

Bahorel gave him a brief look of confusion, “I just think it would be good to have someone make sure you get back to your place safe tonight. Combeferre’s passed out in the living room right now, so I’m thinking you probably shouldn't walk back alone this drunk.”

“I’m not—” Enjolras cut himself off to think it over. “I’m not this drunk. I’m barely drunk.”

Grantaire was quiet. Bahorel disregarded Enjolras’ last remark.

“Or if you don’t like that idea, I could walk you back, Enj.” Bahorel looked at Enjolras with something close to concern. “But I just have work pretty early in the morning so…”

“No, yeah, I can do it.” Grantaire interjected.

The truth was Enjolras did want Grantaire to come back to his apartment with him. Not because he wouldn’t be able to handle the walk by himself—because he totally could—but because an apartment with Grantaire and without a roommate presented the ideal opportunity for sex.

“Sounds good to me.” Enjolras responded maybe a little too late.

-

They left several minutes later. The more progress they made back to Enjolras’ place, the more grateful he was for Grantaire’s presence. He was almost hit by two Vespas, tripped three times on the cobblestone roads—but miraculously never fell—and dropped his phone on the ground when he tried to look up the directions to his apartment. Eventually, Grantaire decided it would be best if he held onto Enjolras’ belongings until they could be returned safely.

Grantaire and Enjolras eventually made it back to the apartment. The clock in the kitchen indicated it was a few hours past midnight.

“You should come to bed with me.” Enjolras poked Grantaire’s chest.

Grantaire looked him up and down. “And what do you mean by that?”

Enjolras was smirking. “Do you want to find out? C’mon.” He tugged Grantaire down the hallway and to his room. Grantaire followed hesitantly. “Woah, and we don’t even have to lock the door because Combeferre won’t be back any time soon… yay.”

When they made it to his room, Enjolras began to undress.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.” Grantaire said from the doorway.

“What?” Enjolras pouted. “Why not?”

“Enj. You’re wasted.”

Enjolras groaned as he sat down on his bed and began pulling off his shoes. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure that I’m not sleeping with you or that you’re wasted? Either way, the answer to both of those is: yes, I’m absolutely sure.”

Enjolras stood up and walked back over to Grantaire. He rested his hands on the buckle of Grantaire’s belt. “You won’t even let me give you a blowjob?”

“Still no.” Grantaire stifled a yawn. “Text me tomorrow if you want a rain check, though. I’m going home.”

“What? Don’t go,” Enjolras whined, stretching out the last vowel. “Please, I’ll be so lonely here.”

Grantaire’s lips formed a straight line, then he sighed, “Fine. But only because I don’t think I’d survive the walk back to my place this tired.” He dragged his hand over his face, then pointed at Enjolras. “And if you try anything with me I’ll make you sleep on your own couch.”

“Boo… Why are you no fun anymore, R?” Enjolras let go of the front of Grantaire’s jeans. He flopped back onto his bed and started undoing his own fly. Then he kicked his pants off in Grantaire’s direction. “I’m happy you're sober, but not if you're going to be boring now. Wait, no, I shouldn’t have said that—”

“Hey, I’m fun. More fun than you.” Grantaire took his jeans off but kept his t-shirt on. “And sorry I prefer my sexual partners capable of giving consent.”

“Ugh. I hate it when you’re right.” Enjolras settled onto one side of the mattress underneath the covers. “It makes it harder to hate you.”

Grantaire crawled into bed beside Enjolras. He tilted his head, “Do you want to hate me, Enjolras?”

“That’s a loaded question… uhm,” Enjolras closed his eyes tight. “I just think sometimes it would be easier if I did hate you… y’know?”

“You can be so weird, Enj.” Grantaire looked over at him. “But yeah, I sort of get it. I don’t think…” He then spoke more quietly, almost as if to just himself. “I don’t think we would ever work out together.”

Those words coming from Grantaire were sickeningly sobering to Enjolras. And somewhat unexpectedly, he felt his heart sink. He rolled over to turn his back on Grantaire. “I’m going to bed.”

“Good night.”

-

When Enjolras woke up the next morning, Grantaire was already gone. Combeferre would be home later—he should have felt relieved that he didn’t have to worry about kicking Grantaire out. But he didn’t feel relieved at all. Quite the opposite. He dry heaved in the bathroom, but chalked it up to a bad hangover. Still, he managed to fall back asleep after some tossing and turning.

Some amount of time later, Enjolras jerked awake when he realized that no one had fed Princesse that day. He cursed under his breath—it was almost noon and she was probably starving. He hurried to the kitchen, but when he bent down to fill her bowl, he saw that she had already been given some food.

5.

The next time Grantaire was in Enjolras’ apartment was on probably one of the hottest days of the year. Enjolras had the day off from work at the law firm, but didn’t do much with his sparse free time. He entertained the idea of going on a run. He even put on his running shorts, but when the thought of stepping outside in anything more than that crossed his mind he collapsed on his couch in front of the fan.

After a minute or two or fifteen of just listening to the fan and the sounds of people on the streets outside, the front door opened. Combeferre came in, lugging a tall cardboard package into the apartment.

“Hello,” Combeferre said in a sing-song voice and shut the door behind him.

“Hi.” Enjolras sat up. Just the thought of carrying that heavy-looking box made him break a sweat. “What do you have there?”

Combeferre propped it up by the door. “A cat tree. For Princesse.”

“Huh,” Enjolras squinted at the small picture on the box without leaving the couch. “Interesting.”

“Don’t you think she should have one? She must be so bored being cooped up in this cramped apartment all day. And the scratching post inside might get her to stop tearing our furniture to shreds.”

Enjolras hummed offhandedly. “Good luck with that.”

“Do you want to put it together while I’m gone later?” Combeferre smiled wide. “Please?”

Enjolras shook his head, “Is it really that urgent?”

“Of course it is.” Combeferre crossed his arms. “She’s our adoptive daughter—don’t you think she deserves the best? Besides, maybe she’ll finally like you if you do this for her.”

Enjolras sat up to protest, “She likes me just fine. I think. Maybe.”

“Please, Enjolras?” Combeferre leaned on the arm of the couch. “It’s bad enough I have to work a graveyard shift on my one-year anniversary. Try to be sympathetic.”

“Fine.” Enjolras fell back onto the couch cushions. “I’ll start it later.”

“You’re the best.” Combeferre was already turning on his feet to go to his room. “Princesse and I will love you forever!”

-

An hour later, Combeferre left to go to Courfeyrac’s place and then his subsequent shift at the hospital. Around the same time, Enjolras finally peeled himself off of the couch.

He dragged the box containing the cat tree to the living-room. He opened it up with a pair of scissors and ripped open some plastic bags containing small screws and bolts. But after flipping through the instructions pamphlet he found himself reaching for his phone.

“Have you ever assembled a cat-tree-tower-thing before?” Enjolras asked, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder.

“Uh, maybe a few years ago, why?” Grantaire answered.

“Want to come over and help me out?” Enjolras dug through the drawers in their kitchen for a screwdriver.

“What’s in it for me?”

Almost jokingly, Enjolras responded, “Bring a screwdriver and I’ll do whatever you want.”

Grantaire hung up.

-

Enjolras was inexplicably nervous. He never invited Grantaire over for any reason beyond explicitly sex and sex alone. And now he was on his way to help him build a piece of cat furniture. His stomach nearly churned at the unprecedented intimate domesticity the two were approaching. Perhaps he should tell Grantaire to forget it. Or perhaps he could just tell himself that this was normal and not weird at all.

But just when he was contemplating how exactly he could do that, there was a knock at the door. He opened it.

Grantaire looked at him briefly before stepping inside. “Hot?”

“What?”

Grantaire smiled. “Are you not wearing a shirt because you’re hot or have you severely overestimated my assembly skills? This could take hours.”

“Perfect. Just what I needed.” He deadpanned and led Grantaire to the offending piece of incomplete furniture.

Grantaire pulled a screwdriver from his back pocket before sitting down on the ground. He leafed through the instructions manual. “This shouldn’t be too bad.”

-

It was bad. So fucking bad. It had taken an hour and a half just to build the base of the cat tree. Or maybe it was the top. All of the pieces looked the fucking same. And they were both convinced that there were at least three missing pieces to blame for their troubles.

“Can you look around for that other washer again? I don’t understand why they wouldn’t put enough in the bag.” Grantaire tossed the manual over his shoulder, already admitting defeat.

“I already did. It’s useless—we must’ve been sent the wrong number of pieces.” He wanted to take the screwdriver and stab himself. And then Grantaire. “Or maybe you just misread something in the directions.”

“I didn’t.”

Enjolras groaned and laid down on the living room’s rug. “Let’s take a break. Or give up.” He looked up at Grantaire. “Either option is fine with me.”

“No.” Grantaire attempted to slot two pieces together that should have gone together but for whatever reason, outright refused.

“No?” Enjolras repeated with confusion and growing concern.

“We’re almost done.” He explained. Grantaire only seemed determined to finish projects when they did not matter in the slightest. This, to Enjolras’ dismay, became one of those projects.

They were different sides of the same stubborn coin. “We’re not.”

Princesse meandered over to the scattered pile of unassembled pieces. Grantaire smoothed his hand over her back as she passed him. “Thirty more minutes, okay?”

“Fine.” Enjolras grumbled.

Thirty minutes came and went. Enjolras gave up entirely and ordered them both Chinese takeout. He put on a shirt when the delivery driver came to the door and then returned to the living room where Grantaire had made a decent amount of progress on the cat tree. It was almost starting to look like the picture on the packaging.

“Looks good,” Enjolras handed a takeout box and chopsticks to Grantaire, “here.”

“Thanks and thank you.” Grantaire opened the chopsticks. “What do I owe you?”

Enjolras joined him on the floor, “Nothing.”

“C’mon, seriously.”

Enjolras shrugged a shoulder and met Grantaire’s gaze. “I mean it. You helping me with this is enough.”

“Okay,” Grantaire looked at him with mild skepticism, “but I can’t promise that this’ll get finished tonight.”

Enjolras was already digging through his lo mein with chopsticks. “I… don’t really care.”

A small laugh escaped Grantaire. “You don’t, do you? You just want to fuck before Combeferre gets back, so you can send me home.”

“No,” Enjolras made a face at him, taken aback by his harsh words. But when he really thought about it, Grantaire was right to use them. “I asked you to come over because I… I just wanted to see you.”

Then Grantaire looked confused. “Why?”

Enjolras shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to lie to make yourself feel better about this.” Grantaire explained with what seemed like genuine honesty.

Enjolras looked away. “I’m not lying.” He sighed, “Look, I know I’ve been a dick to you in the past, but I’m sorry, okay?”

Grantaire was quiet for a minute. Then, “Why did you wait until now to say that?”

“I don’t know,” Enjolras was playing with his food now more than he was actually eating it. “You’ve been really nice to me lately… buying Princesse things, walking me home from the party, and now helping me with this.”

“I don’t need your pity, Enjolras.” Grantaire replied with a weary smile.

This was frustrating. Enjolras took a deep breath in. “It’s not pity. I like spending time with you.”

“You hate me.” Grantaire countered, almost laughing in disbelief.

“Only when you make me hate you!” Enjolras finally looked in his direction. “A lot of the times we’re together… I don’t hate you, Grantaire.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Yes,” the voice that came out sounded hurt. “Why can’t you accept that?”

“I…” Grantaire bit his lower lip. “I just don’t understand. There’s nothing to like about me.”

“Shut up.” Enjolras rolled his eyes before setting his food down. “That’s like. Categorically false.”

“I’m serious.”

“Do you know that you're the most talented person I know?”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” He could have punched Grantaire. He also wanted to hold him very tight and never let go. It was an interesting mix of emotions. “And sometimes you try to contribute to the Society—you almost always show up to our weekly meetings.”

“Well, I was usually drunk.”

“Not anymore! That’s another thing you should be proud of! Oh, and you're great at boxing.” Enjolras concluded that he definitely should not punch Grantaire.

He scoffed, “You’ve seen one match.”

“All our friends love you.” Enjolras added. “So obviously there is something to like about you, Grantaire. Just accept it.”

“Stop talking.” Grantaire buried his face in his hands. Over the course of the conversation, Enjolras had unknowingly gotten much closer to him.

“And you were able to put together most of this,” he gestured to the cat tree, “with the most confusing directions ever written. That’s very impressive.”

“Okay, okay I get it.” Grantaire took his head out of his hands. His face was flushed and he was trying not to smile now.

“And you fuck like—”

Grantaire cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips. Enjolras was stunned.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Enjolras kissed him back. He held the side of Grantaire’s face and balanced himself with one hand on his shoulder. Grantaire pulled him in closer, in spite of their awkward positioning on the floor.

They parted slightly. Enjolras kissed Grantaire once again, for good measure. “Do you believe me now?”

“Kiss me again?”

He did. Enjolras licked his way into Grantaire’s mouth. This kiss was much more tender than their first. That had been heated, rushed, and messy. This had no less passion, but it was none of those other things.

Grantaire leaned back to break off the kiss. Enjolras chased after his lips. “I believe you.”

“Good,” Enjolras caught his lips back into a kiss. Grantaire grabbed Enjolras’ ass and pulled him forward until he was no longer leaning forward on his knees but straddling his lap instead.

A few moments passed by in this now much more comfortable arrangement. Enjolras stopped to catch his breath, “Can we please be done with this stupid cat thing for the night?”

Grantaire nodded fervently. “Yes.”

Enjolras wanted to laugh at Grantaire’s quick response, but showed some restraint. “Are you still hungry?”

“No.” Grantaire slid his hand beneath Enjolras’ shirt.

“Do you… want to go to the bedroom?”

“Yes.” They both scrambled to their feet.

Enjolras wasted no time, already untying the drawstring of his shorts. “What do you want?”

“Uh,” Grantaire sat down on the edge of Enjolras’ bed. “You? I thought that was obvious.”

“No, I mean on the phone earlier. I told you ‘I’d do whatever you want’ if you brought over a screwdriver. I haven’t repaid you yet.”

Grantaire laughed nervously. “I don’t know, Enj. What do you want?”

Enjolras shook his head, “That’s not what I asked.”

“Fine.” Grantaire looked around the room. “I want… uhm. I want you to ride me?”

Enjolras sprawled onto the bed next to Grantaire and said in one long-winded breath, “Oh my God you are so boring.”

“Hey,” Grantaire laughed as he turned to glare at Enjolras, “you’re becoming a pillow princess and I won’t stand for it any longer.”

“Ew, never say those words again. Please.” Enjolras rolled over onto his back. “I’m not… that.”

“You kind of are.” Grantaire laid by his side. Enjolras shook his head and wordlessly got up to open the drawer to his nightstand. “What’re you doing?”

Enjolras returned after a short moment, with a small bottle of lube. “I never said I wasn’t going to do it.”

Grantaire rested his hand on Enjolras’ upper thigh. “I’m not going to make you if you don’t want to.”

“Oh no, I want to.” Enjolras said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to ride you so hard you’ll never want to have sex with me or anyone else any other way.”

“Oh, really?” Grantaire couldn’t take Enjolras’ attempt at dirty-talk seriously. Neither could Enjolras himself.

“Yep.” Enjolras handed the lube over to Grantaire who handed it right back.

“I want to see you open yourself on your own fingers.”

Enjolras threw his head back and groaned. “Why are you making me do everything?”

Grantaire shrugged. “You did this to yourself.”

Just before Enjolras could take off his shirt, Princesse leapt onto the bed. Enjolras groaned again. “Princesse, leave us alone.”

“Hi, kitty.” Grantaire reached out to pet her. Enjolras got off the bed and tried to pick her up. She started clawing at him as she slipped out of his grasp.

“Jesus Christ,” He dropped Princesse back onto the bed. “Ow.”

“That’s the weirdest way I’ve ever seen someone hold a cat.”

“You move her then.” Enjolras watched as Princesse curled up by Grantaire’s side.

“Aw, but she loves me.” Grantaire stroked her little nose with his thumb.

“You can pet her later,” Enjolras fell back onto the bed. “But I won’t wait all day. My time is precious.”

“Not as precious as Princesse’s little bean toes,” Grantaire pouted at Enjolras as he squished the cat’s paw. Enjolras was not amused. “Fine. I’ll get her out of here.”

Grantaire scooped her up and carried her out into the hallway. He set her down on the ground, but before he could close the door, she had already darted between his legs and was back inside the bedroom. “This is all your fault. She never comes into my room unless you're here.”

Grantaire bent down to pick her up. She quickly slinked beneath the bed. “Fuck.”

“Go give her some treats in the kitchen, that’ll get her out.” Enjolras suggested.

“Okay, but I expect you to be naked when I come back.” Grantaire left the room.

“No promises.”

-

Princesse finally left the room when she heard the bag of treats being shaken in the kitchen. Grantaire returned and locked the door behind him. He looked over at Enjolras on the bed, “Your clothes… they're still on.”

Grantaire crawled onto Enjolras until his face was just above his. Enjolras tried very hard to look serious, but was noticeably failing to do so. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I am going to…” Grantaire paused to think, “make you open yourself up on your fingers for me, but I will keep all my clothes on.”

“Huh,” Enjolras pulled Grantaire down into a brief kiss, “that sounds more like punishment for you than me. It's pretty hot in here.”

“I can manage.” Grantaire trailed kisses down Enjolras’ jaw and neck.

“We’ll see.”

-

Grantaire stayed true to his words for a pretty noble amount of time. By the time Enjolras had two fingers inside himself, Grantaire’s shirt was gone. By the third, they were a tangle of naked limbs on the mattress.

Enjolras also kept true to his words. He fucked himself on Grantaire’s cock hard and fast. Grantaire had seemingly learned that if he wanted Enjolras to do something exemplarily, the first step was to doubt his ability to do so. That is not to say that Grantaire wasn’t doing his own fair share. He very much was.

Grantaire rolled his hips up to meet Enjolras’. He held onto Enjolras’ waist tight enough to leave bruises. “You look so fucking hot, you riding my cock—fuck,” his hand traveled down Enjolras’ back and pulled him in closer, “you were right.”

“What?” Enjolras could barely speak. He was putting a lot of effort into this performance, if you could call it that. Because he was thoroughly enjoying himself. But at the same time, he was starting to tire himself out with all his back arching and nearly pornographic moans.

“You were right.” Grantaire sucked and bit at the skin right below Enjolras’ nipple. “I never want to have sex any other way again. Or with anyone else.”

Enjolras made a sound in between a laugh and a groan. The mere thought of doing this again almost made him pass out. He thanked his past self for deciding not to go on a run earlier because he'd surely be dead by now if he had. “I’m always right.”

“Whatever you say,” Grantaire pulled him into a deep kiss. Enjolras threw his arms around his neck.

They continued to map each other’s mouths with their tongues until Grantaire withdrew almost reluctantly. He then began to stroke Enjolras’ cock. Enjolras rested his forehead on Grantaire’s shoulder. “I’m so close, Grantaire, please.”

“I know, I know, baby, me too.” Grantaire panted in Enjolras’ ear.

Enjolras couldn’t tell if he came before or after Grantaire. He knew Grantaire was still stroking him shortly after and talking to him, but his mind was clouded as he was hit with wave after wave of pleasure and exhaustion. Grantaire let go of him and he practically fell over onto the bed.

“Hey, hey,” Grantaire said quietly and shook Enjolras’ shoulder, “Enj, are you all right?”

Enjolras looked up at him and grinned. “’Course I’m all right.”

Grantaire pushed the strands of Enjolras’ hair back out of his face. “Thank God. I thought I killed you for a moment there.”

Enjolras fought so hard to keep his eyes open. “No, still alive… And ‘baby’? Seriously?”

“Shut up.” Grantaire smiled through a cringing expression. “It just came out.”

In spite of already being incredibly out of breath, he laughed until his lungs ached. Enjolras knew everything would hurt tomorrow, but at least he had Grantaire with him now. “You should stay the night.”

Grantaire stared at him for a minute. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras swallowed. “Combeferre’s working all night, when he gets back he’ll sleep all day. You can leave whenever you’d like… You can say no, though.”

“No, no, I want to stay.” Grantaire said quickly.

“Good.” Enjolras looked into his eyes briefly before glancing down at Grantaire’s lips.

“Good.” Grantaire did the same. “Let’s clean up this mess.”

Some of Enjolras’ cum had gotten on himself, but mostly it was on Grantaire. “I’m tired.”

“Fine. Go to sleep at eight o’clock, you weirdo.” Grantaire slumped off the bed and put his boxers on. Then he left the room.

When he returned—now cum-free—it was with a glass of cold water. Grantaire placed it on the nightstand with a light clunk. Enjolras opened his eyes and mumbled into his pillow, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Grantaire got into bed next to Enjolras, who was chugging the water like his life depended on it. He probably did have some degree of acute dehydration. “If dick-riding was an Olympic sport, you’d be a gold medalist. For sure.”

Enjolras nearly choked. He coughed and placed the glass back down. “I’ll be sure to add that to my CV.”

“You can put me down as a reference.” Grantaire yawned.

“Noted.” Enjolras turned the lamp by his bed off, plunging the room into a soft shroud of darkness, save for the moonlight pouring in through the gaps in the curtains.

“Good night.”

Enjolras rolled over to face Grantaire, “’Night, R.”

-

Enjolras awoke early in the morning. Or maybe it was late at night. It was difficult to tell with what little light came in from the window. And he had no way to check the time because he must’ve left his phone in the living-room before he and Grantaire made the sensible decision of relocating to the bedroom.

The relentless scratching noises coming from the door were becoming harder to ignore. This was also accompanied by a frequent, and equally loud, meowing. Enjolras sighed and got to his feet. He walked over to the door and opened it; in came Princesse.

She rubbed her head against Enjolras’ shin and ankle—which he would’ve found cute if he wasn’t so irritated at having been taken away from his deep slumber for this. Princesse seemed to scan the room, before leaping onto the bed where Grantaire continued to sleep soundly.

Enjolras decided to make himself somewhat decent for their new company. He put on his boxers and a t-shirt, watching as Princesse stepped onto Grantaire’s chest. She then pawed at where the blanket had bunched up near his face. He continued to sleep. She shoved her nose into one of his closed eyes. That appeared to be successful.

Enjolras would have been laughing if he himself hadn’t already fallen victim to her cunning scheme to wake both of them up for food. Grantaire grumbled.

“Hi,” Enjolras came to his side of the bed.

“What time is it?” Grantaire squinted up at him.

“I don’t know. I think Princesse wants to be fed, though.”

“Does she always do this?” Grantaire moved her to the side so he could sit up.

“Maybe to Combeferre, he usually feeds her in the mornings. But she’s never done it to me.” Enjolras answered, already making his way out of the room.

Even though he wasn’t expecting him to, Grantaire threw the covers up and got out of bed to follow Enjolras out. They walked to the kitchen in the kind of quietude that being up before sunrise almost necessitates.

Enjolras opened a can of the expensive but healthy brand of cat food that Grantaire had persuaded him into buying and dumped it out onto the little dish on the floor reserved for Princesse. He then brought her water bowl to the sink.

“Can I see you again, soon? As in like, this week.” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras looked over at him. “Uhm, yeah?”

“Like not here, or my place.”

The realization dawned on him quickly. Enjolras bit his lip to keep his smile somewhat restrained. “Are you asking me out?”

“What would you say if I was?” Grantaire leaned against the countertop in what Enjolras assumed was an attempt to not appear so endearingly nervous.

“I’d say…” Enjolras lengthened his vowels to stall for time while he thought, “lunch this Saturday in the Senate Garden?”

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” Grantaire nodded before quickly adding, “If that’s all right with you.”

Enjolras filled up Princesse’s water bowl. “It’s more than all right,” he wanted to kiss Grantaire’s blushing face. “We can discuss details when it isn’t four in the morning, though.”

“I like that plan.” Grantaire stifled a yawn.

Enjolras bent down to give Princesse her water. She had been eating her breakfast with content, as indicated by her loud purring. “You snore, by the way.”

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.

Grantaire let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I probably do. I just wanted to see if you’d still argue with me.”

Enjolras narrowed his eyes at him briefly. “Of course I will.”

Grantaire tugged Enjolras towards him by the front of his shirt. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way—I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

As stupid as it was, Enjolras felt his heart skip a beat. He wasn’t good with words when it came to this sort of thing. So he just leaned in to close the distance between his and Grantaire’s lips.

The kiss was nowhere near as long as their previous had been. But that was okay. Right now Enjolras just wanted to mess up Grantaire’s hair with his hands because he could. He wanted to memorize the features on his face while Grantaire’s hand wandered to the small of his back and then lower.

But the sound of keys jangling on the other side of the door caused Enjolras to jerk away from Grantaire's hold in an instant. Grantaire startled too, and cursed under his breath as the door opened.

Combeferre entered, then paused. “Why are you—Grantaire? Why is Grantaire here? Grantaire, why are you here?”

Neither of them said anything. Enjolras felt his skin burning. “Uhm…”

“Oh. Oh.” Combeferre’s mouth was agape.

“’Ferre, please don’t—”

“Oh my God, really? How did this even—when did this? I can’t believe—well, I kind of suspected it when—wait, were you ever going to tell me, Enjolras?” Combeferre went through nearly every emotion in the span of mere seconds.

Enjolras grimaced, “I was… maybe. I definitely considered it. Look, I can explain more later. Just don’t tell anyone else about this yet. Please.”

Combeferre still had a look of complete bewilderment. “Not even Courf?”

“Yes!” Especially him, Enjolras thought. He would—albeit unintentionally—cause the word to spread to their other friends like wildfire.

“Fine, okay.” Combeferre replied. “Can I ask how long this has been going on?”

“Uhm…” Enjolras’ mind drew a blank.

“February, I think.” Grantaire answered.

That sounded about right. Almost regrettable memories from Jehan’s Valentine’s Day party came back to Enjolras in pieces.

“That’s almost six months!” Combeferre seemed unreasonably distressed.

Enjolras shrugged. “Does it really matter? I didn’t tell you because it was just… uh, casual.”

Combeferre sighed. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. He tried again with, “I’m too tired to deal with this right now. I want to talk to you later though, Enjolras.”

Enjolras—now a little uneasy—nodded. He mumbled a quiet ‘okay’ as Combeferre left the kitchen.

“See you around, R.” Combeferre looked over his shoulder as he made his way to his room.

Enjolras looked to Grantaire who was tentatively waving Combeferre off.

“I should go.” Grantaire said.

Enjolras frowned. “Why?”

Grantaire ignored him. “I’m sorry about,” he jerked his chin in the direction Combeferre had gone, “that.”

“Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was bound to happen eventually.” Enjolras explained. “But you don’t have to leave now. Not until the sun comes up, at least.”

“You’re sure?” Grantaire was worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Yes,” Why was everyone being so weird about this? Enjolras felt like he was missing something. “Absolutely, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Grantaire’s brows were still pinched together.

“Relax, please.” Enjolras tugged at Grantaire’s arm. “Everything’s going to be fine. I swear.”

Grantaire let out a shaky exhale and followed Enjolras down the hallway. “Always the idealist.”

-

They both caught a few more hours of sleep before Enjolras allowed Grantaire to leave the apartment at a reasonable time. They had coffee together in the kitchen before he left. At the door they said their goodbyes then awkwardly stood there for a lingering moment. Grantaire pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to head out.

Enjolras pulled him back in to kiss him properly. He felt Grantaire grin against his lips.

“Okay,” Enjolras examined his face with a smile of his own, “I’ll let you go now.”

“Okay,” Grantaire said breathily and gave him a small wave, “bye.”

“Bye.”

-

In the late afternoon, Combeferre resurfaced from his room, in his pajamas and with unkempt hair. He found Enjolras doing work on the couch and joined him in the living room.

Enjolras looked up from his laptop. “You look like you slept well. How was your shift?”

“Fine. I, uh, I can tell you about it later.”

“Do you still want to talk to me about this morning…?” Enjolras weirdly felt like a child about to be reprimanded.

“Yes.” Combeferre collected his thoughts. He sat on the chair by the couch. “You have to stop hooking up with Grantaire.”

“What?” This was the last thing Enjolras had expected to come from Combeferre’s mouth.

Combeferre frowned. “I mean it. I don’t think it’s fair for him.”

“What are you talking about?” Enjolras shut his laptop and sat up some more.

“It’s kind of cruel to treat him like this, don’t you think?” Combeferre appeared very serious and kind of uncomfortable. “I just… I really don’t think you should continue this kind of, uh, situation with him. You’re probably torturing him, Enj.”

“Sorry, what? I’m so confused.” Enjolras looked expectantly at his friend for an answer. But it did not come. “Why would I be ‘torturing’ him?”

Now Combeferre looked confused. “Because… Well, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Enjolras was growing frustrated.

“You don’t? Are you being serious?" Combeferre almost appeared concerned.

“For Christ’s sake, no I don’t know what you're talking about. Just tell me, please!”

Combeferre finally relented,“Because Grantaire’s like, practically in love with you. And he has been for—I don’t know—maybe a few years?”

Enjolras stood up. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We thought you knew. You really didn’t know?” Combeferre was almost as surprised by this revelation as Enjolras.

“No, of course I didn’t!” Enjolras cried. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’? Who else knows?”

“Uhm, all of our friends.”

“Oh God, how?” He sat back down. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have—fuck. I am such a bad person. What should I do, ’Ferre? Oh God, what do I do?”

“I’m not the one you have to ask.” Combeferre replied. Unfortunately, he was right. “But you should probably start with an apology.”

+ 1

Enjolras woke up to the sound of drawers opening and closing rather aggressively. He opened his eyes to find that morning had come and the sun had unapologetically infiltrated their room.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Grantaire asked. Enjolras nodded and watched as he rummaged through the dresser and then closet. “I’ll be gone soon, so you can go back to sleep.”

Enjolras squinted at Grantaire. “What? Why are you leaving?” he practically whined. “Come back to bed.”

“I can’t, Enj. I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Come back to bed or I’ll divorce you.” This was Enjolras’ attempt at being stern but it had just made Grantaire laugh.

“I don’t think you can do that until we’re actually married.”

Enjolras yawned. “Then let’s finally pick a date.”

“Maybe later.” Grantaire finally stopped buzzing around the room. “Only you get off on intensive planning, remember?”

Enjolras groaned. “Where are you going this early?”

“It’s seven in the morning. That’s a normal time to be awake.”

“Not for you.” Enjolras reminded him. It was so early that neither Princesse nor Tortue had started their frantic begging to be fed, as if they didn’t still have food in their bowls from last night's dinner.

“Fair point.”

“Are you going to answer my question?” Enjolras absentmindedly pet Tortue’s orange-black coat while the cat slept soundly—something that both he and Grantaire should be doing at that moment.

Grantaire finally turned to face him. “I have some errands to run before the gallery exhibition tonight.”

“It can’t wait?” Enjolras frowned.

“Uhm…” The look on Grantaire’s face was that of someone doing a complex mental equation. “Not unless I want to be one work short for tonight.”

“No,” some part of him hoped he was joking. “Grantaire. You can’t be serious.”

“I’m a horrible procrastinator, you know that.” Grantaire sounded defensive. Defensive and stressed.

“If you had just listened to me this wouldn’t have happened.” Enjolras dragged his hand over his face in frustration. “I told you countless times that you need to find a better way to manage your time. None of this would be happening if you had just let me make you a schedule like I had asked.”

“Calm down,” those words rarely served to calm Enjolras down. “I just have to varnish one thing… but I have to do that very soon, or it will still be drying at the reception.”

“You overwhelm me.” Enjolras remarked.

“I know.” Grantaire came to Enjolras’ side. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed Enjolras’ cheekbone, like that made up for any of this. Enjolras pulled him into a kiss on the lips. Grantaire withdrew to get dressed. “I still don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t have much of a choice.” Grantaire tugged on a pair of jeans that had already been ruined by paint. He called them his ‘work jeans’. They were one of many.

Enjolras fell back dramatically onto the mattress. Grantaire sat next to him on what little space there was between him and the edge of the bed. “There’s nothing I could do that would make you change your mind?” He lifted his shirt up, exposing his navel in a vague attempt at seduction. Grantaire shook his head with a growing grin. “Nothing…?”

“I’ll make it up to you when I get back here.” Grantaire leaned down to press a kiss to Enjolras’ abdomen. Then he was up again. “Okay?”

Enjolras pursed his lips. “Fine. But feed the cats on your way out,” he thought out the stipulations of this agreement, “And come back with breakfast. It’s my one day off this week—I’m not getting out of bed until noon.”

“Duly noted.” Grantaire picked up a few more of his belongings around the room.

Princesse noticed the commotion and hopped off the bed to see what her favorite person was doing. “I hope your studio time is worth abandoning me and our cat-children.”

“Two hours. I’ll be gone for no more than two hours.” Grantaire’s hand was on the door knob.

“It’s okay, I’m already adjusting to life as a single father.” He sighed loudly.

“So you’ll be fine cleaning the litter box later, then?”

“No,” Enjolras was torn from his melodramatics. “I did it last.”

“I know. Just checking.”

“You’re such a… a dick.” He couldn’t think of anything clever.

“I know, love you too. Bye.” Grantaire left the room.

-

Sometime after this, Enjolras was woken up by the sound of the apartment door shutting. A few footsteps later, Grantaire was opening the bedroom door wider and sneaking in quietly.

“You’re back.” Enjolras said groggily from where he was still buried beneath blanket upon blanket. “How was it? Better than spending time with your hot fiancé?”

“No. But, it was fine. I finished and that’s all that matters.” Grantaire stood by his side now. “And I got you this. And this.” He dropped a white paper bag onto the nightstand. Then set down a to-go coffee cup next to it.

Enjolras’ mouth fell open. “For me?” he reached for the bag and opened it, “You’ve outdone yourself. You are absolved entirely.”

“Oh good.” Grantaire looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. “I would hate it if my ‘hot fiancé’ was still mad at me.”

“I wasn’t mad—just a little frustrated.” Enjolras informed him. “But I can’t eat this in bed. I’ll get crumbs everywhere.”

“You could… get out of bed?” Grantaire’s voice lilted slightly at the end.

Enjolras returned the pastry bag to its previous place and grabbed the coffee instead. “No,” he took a small sip, “I’m quite content here.”

“You’re ridiculous. Just get up.” Grantaire shook Enjolras’ blanketed leg gently. “C’mon, Enj.”

“But I don’t want to have breakfast now, I just want you, R.” Enjolras took one more sip before putting the paper coffee cup back on the nightstand.

Grantaire looked down at Enjolras. “Aw, if you had just said that in the first place I’d be in bed with you right now.”

“Well, this is me,” he said flatly, “asking you now.”

“Give me a second to change out of these clothes before I turn our bed into an abstract oil painting.” Grantaire regrettably pried Enjolras’ hands off of him. “Could be hot, though.”

Enjolras wasn’t as entertained by the idea. “Let me help.” He got on his knees on the mattress and unbuttoned Grantaire’s paint-stained jeans. Then unzipped the fly. “I can’t believe you ruined my plans this morning.”

Grantaire hoisted his equally well-worn and covered-in-paint shirt over his head. “What plans did you have?”

Enjolras laughed a little before he could get the words out. “Morning sex, duh.”

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry.” Now Grantaire helped remove Enjolras’ shirt, “However can I make it up to you?”

Enjolras pulled him in closer by his hips. “I can think of a few ways.”

“Where should we start?” Grantaire pressed kisses to his jaw and leaned forward until they fell backwards onto the bed.

Enjolras wanted to gasp or yelp, but did not. He slid his hand into Grantaire’s hair and tugged lightly with unconvincing retribution. “Probably here. Then the kitchen, so I can finish my breakfast. Maybe the couch and after that the shower?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Grantaire buried his face in the bend of Enjolras’s neck.

Enjolras squirmed slightly as Grantaire’s stubble brushed against his skin, “And you know I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Fine,” Grantaire moved down until he was off the bed again, knees on the hardwood floor. Enjolras quirked an eyebrow at him. He placed both hands on Enjolras’ legs and pushed them apart. “Can I suck you off?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Enjolras’ straining cock in his underwear was quite hard to ignore.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he lifted Enjolras’ legs over his shoulders. “God forbid I like to hear your voice.”

“Don’t tell me that,” Enjolras grazed his fingers over the place where Grantaire’s hand held onto him, “I might never shut up.”

“I mean it, though.” Grantaire kissed his thigh. “I could listen to you talk until the end of time.”

Enjolras opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it. He bit his bottom lip before trying again,“That’s why I love you.”

Grantaire continued mouthing at the skin of his inner thighs, “I know.” Enjolras dug his heel slightly into Grantaire’s upper back. “I love you too, Enj.”

Enjolras fidgeted with the hem of his boxers. “I can’t believe you put up with me for so long.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky you were so charming. And had a cute cat. Princesse was one of your best qualities.” Grantaire looked up at him from between his legs. Enjolras had narrowed his eyes slightly at Grantaire who was now watching something move on the ground. “Speaking of…”

Enjolras threw his head back with mild exasperation, “Oh my God, no,” he groaned. “R, why didn’t you close the door?”

“I was trying not to wake you up, remember?” Princesse jumped up on the bed by Enjolras and nuzzled his arm. “I’ll move her in a second.”

Enjolras began to pet Princesse’s head. “I can’t stay mad at her, though. She’s so silly, never leaving our side.”

“Well, she loves you too, you know.” Grantaire got to his feet.

Enjolras smiled up at Grantaire. He really did feel loved. “I know.”