untamedantinous | closed: 'you don't believe in anything.' 'i believe in you.'

Well, that is a voice he certainly knows.

Grantaire looks up sharply from his easel to the door. Deciding on the exact shade to use for this rabbit can obviously wait, so he sets down his supplies and walks over to the door, pulling it open curiously.

"Enjolras?"

"Hello." He offers a tentative smile. "I thought I might -- check in."

"Oh." He looks surprised, if pleasantly so. "I'm... as well as might be expected, I suppose." He steps back. "Come in, if you like."

“Yes, unless I am...interrupting?” He nods towards the bottle of wine, anchored under one arm. “I brought you something.”

He shrugs, grabbing his extra chair and throwing whatever random objects ended up on it into the corner. "I'm fairly sure my paints aren't going anywhere, so no, you aren't interrupting anything that can't wait." The bottle of wine, though, especially considering it's Enjolras, makes him stop short. "That's... Thank you. That's hard to come by right now."

“I am aware. You can have it if you like, I still have half a bottle in my rooms.” He glances around for a spare place to set the wine. “What are you doing?”

He takes the wine and sets it near some at least partially full bottles on a dresser. "Painting," he says easily. "A commission, of a sort."

He raises his eyebrows. “I was unaware you were taking commissions. What is it of?”

"Well, 'commission' really might be a slight overstatement. It's more of a request. It's Lan Wangji and the rabbits. Part of a triptych."

“…..I see.” And he clearly has many questions, but he’s busying himself with settling down in the chair and making himself comfortable. “Dare I ask why?”

He pauses and thinks that over for a moment. "I truly think the best answer I have for that question is that it seemed like a good idea at the time."

“…Ah.” And with that explanation, he can likely guess whose idea it was all the same. “Well, I hope you do not mind company.”

The idea totally had co-authors. Grantaire smiles. "I never mind your company."

Of course it did. He can likely guess at them both. "Ah, good. I shall not bother you, unless you wish it."

Well, he himself is one of the co-authors, so that certainly makes guessing much easier. "You're no bother. I'm hardly pressed for time on this, anyway. If it would make you feel better, though, I can keep painting while talking."

"Do as you will. You generally do regardless of my thoughts on the matter."

"Yes, and that is clearly part of what makes me such a delight," he says wryly as he sits down back in front of his painting, but doesn't pick his supplies up again. "It is good to see you, at the very least."

“Is it?” He replies, equally wry. “It has been…some time since we have spent time together.”

"Since the meeting," he says with a nod. "If that counts, even."

"It might, I suppose, but even longer than that since it was in private."

"True enough. Quite tragic, I must say."

"Would you say so?" He gives Grantaire a vaguely amused look.

"Oh indeed," he says with a grin. "Wailing and gnashing of teeth."

"My apologies for causing such tragedy, then."

He laughs and shakes his head. "The fault is just as much mine, if not more."

“How is it more? We are not obliged to spend time with each other.”

Edited 2024-03-30 13:06 (UTC)

"Of course not. If I were obliged, I wouldn't enjoy it nearly as much and would in fact go out of my way to avoid it at every opportunity. And that would be awful."

“It would.” There’s a slight pause. “You know, I don’t know what I would do here without you.”

Grantaire's train of thought goes careening off the tracks at that statement and it's all he can do not to splutter. As it is he manages to just blink a couple of times before managing a little laugh. "I think you'd manage."

“Mm.” He settles back in his chair. “Not well. It is good to have someone from home here. Something familiar.”

He shrugs, and if his smile shades slightly sheepish, at least it's not in public. "I guess we finally discovered what it took for me to be helpful."

He shrugs back, leaving ‘what, me losing my purpose?’ unsaid. “Yes, being transported to an entirely new world.”

Grantaire as well has a whole host of things unsaid, 'being the only one now who can be useful in that way' among them. He just grins, instead. "Indeed. Apparently bringing someone difficult and absurd to a place that's difficult and absurd somehow helps."

“It certainly is that; but we will make do.” He pauses for a moment, before continuing. “We are both difficult, I think, but in different ways.”

"That may be so," he says after a moment of consideration. "But I think everyone is probably difficult for someone, so that puts us in good company." A brief pause. "Well, and bad company as well, because that would also fall under the banner of 'everyone'."

“Yes,” he sounds amused. “But right now I prefer to consider it good company. I am sorry I’ve interrupted your work, though; if you’d like to get back to it I shall be quiet.”

"Don't apologize for that, really. It's just a bit of silliness, and I'm capable of painting and talking all at once." He picks up his palette. "I'm also capable of demonstrating."

“Ah. A man of many talents.” Enjolras is quite capable of doing two things at once as well; and opens up his notebook to settle into writing. “I will get to work too, then.”

"Relatively few talents, really, but I do relish the ones I have." He continues painting. "Would you like me to be quiet? If you have work to do as well, I mean."

“No, it’s alright. It’s only something for me, anyhow.” It’s sort of a memoir of his friends and time spent in Paris; but he prefers to keep it mostly quiet.

"All right." Grantaire would be glad on Enjolras's behalf if he knew he'd actually started writing it, at least. "How fared your Rousseau abridgement, by the way?"

"Oh, it went well enough. M. Aziraphale offered to edit it for me; I'm not really certain what I shall do with it now. It was mostly a thought exercise."

"Good to exercise one's thoughts, to keep them from atrophy¹. I commend you for the effort in keeping yourself from mindless insensibility."

¹Legitimate medical advice from Dr. Grantaire.

“Mm. Thank you very much,” he says drily.

"Oh, of course. I can applaud if you'd like."

"That seems unnecessary. Shall I applaud you for being able to find mindless insensibility? --Though I suppose you may not have done that often, here. At least not that I've noticed."

He pauses in his painting. "Huh. You're right. Not as often. How strange."

“Perhaps it’s the company?”

"Perhaps, although it's hardly as if I had been previously lacking for company. It therefore must be the pinball."

“….Pinball?” He clearly has made no attempt at the game room.

"Oh, it's in the game room. It's from somewhat after our time. Very exciting game. Almost as noisy as I am."

“Mm. You shall have to show it to me sometime.”

He looks mildly surprised. "Of course. Whenever you wish."

"Perhaps not now, of course." He's --vaguely paying attention to his writing, after all.

He laughs a little as he paints a bit. "As luck would have it, 'whenever you wish', while in fact inclusive of now is not exclusive to now."

"Well, yes, there is that." He continues his writing, falling into silence for a few moments.

Grantaire is perfectly content to keep painting, then, as well, even if he takes frequent pauses just to watch Enjolras.

From time to time, Enjolras finds his gaze drawn towards Grantaire as well. He has never really taken the time to watch him at work -- it is doubtful that he's really had an opportunity at any point. Regardless, he does keep writing.

After a while of this, Grantaire stands and starts to stretch. "That's enough for now, I think."

"Mmm?" Enjolras doesn't exactly bother to look up.

He tosses a cloth over his painting. "I'm taking a break. Would you like a glass of the wine you brought?"

"Ah. Yes, that would be nice." He does take a moment to shift position and stretch some, at least.

He nods and goes to get a couple of glasses, pouring one for each of them. (There may be a slightly more generous pour in his own.) He hands Enjolras his glass. "Cheers."

Enjolras nods and takes it, giving him a small smile. "Thank you."

He smiles back and shrugs. "You brought it in the first place, so thank you."

"I thought you might get more use out of it than I would."

"That does seem likely. Especially this month." He takes a long sip from his glass.

"Mm. Yes. Would you like some bread, the next time I make it?"

"Oh, that would be lovely."

"I cannot promise that it will be very good bread, but we must take what we can in this time."

"I wasn't expecting any such promise, so there is nothing to worry about on that score."

"It will, at least, be better than the baguette," with a rueful smile. "I fear I am too impatient for that one."

"Eh, even the baguette was fine. And whatever you make will be better than what the house can make now, anyway."

"Yes, I suppose so. It is easy enough, all you need to do is mix it up and leave it."

"I assume baking is involved at some point too."

'Oh, yes, of course; but that is after you let it sit for a while."

He takes a drink of his wine. "Ah, I have more in common with bread than I thought!"

He raises an eyebrow. “Indeed. I’m sure I could come up with something clever about fermenting, but I cannot think of it just now.”

"If you'd like, I'm happy to pretend you did. Would it be more 'sensible chuckle' clever or 'laughing uproariously' clever?"

He just rolls his eyes a tad. "Neither, if you please."

He grins brightly. "As you wish, of course."

"Of course." He takes a drink of his own wine and settles back in his chair. "How goes the --painting of rabbits?"

"It proceeds well enough. How goes the writing of not rabbits?"

“It goes well. And, perhaps unsurprisingly, contains no rabbits whatsoever.”

"It would be quite the twist if your not rabbits writing actually did contain rabbits."

"If you must know, it's a sort of memoir of Paris."

"Ah," he says. "Well, I do not recall many rabbits in Paris outside dinner plates, so their inclusion does seem unlikely." There's a slight pause. "If... if you would be amenable, I would like to read it when you're done."

"Of course I would be. I would appreciate the proofreading." He offers a small, shy smile, and takes another sip of his wine.

"Yes, of course, I'll be as exacting as ever in my standards. Absolutely eviscerate every incorrect bit of punctuation." His tone of voice completely belies his words.

"You certainly did a fine job with the sheet I made for the meeting." The words could easily turn sarcastic, but they do not.

He huffs out a little laugh. "Well that was the next best thing to a blank canvas I've ever seen."

"--Thank you very much," he says drily.

He smiles brightly. "Happy to be of service."

"Yes, yes, I know." He takes another, longer sip of his wine.

He shrugs. "Putting aside jokes for a bare moment, though, I do look forward to it. It's a story worth telling."

"It is. If not for us, for them."

"Mostly for them, I think."

"Of course, yes." He's going to set his writing aside for now, though, and continues to sip at his wine.

He drags his own chair over to sit beside Enjolras. "So what have you been up to aside from that?"

"Mm. Spending time with Laertes and Sagramore, every so often. Writing. Trying to keep warm. Baking bread. The usual sorts of things, I suppose. What of you?"

"Spending time with... well, people, I suppose. Painting. Trying to keep warm. Playing games. ... I got to ride a horse."

He blinks a little. "You hadn't before?"

"At what point would I have? That's what carriages are for."

"You never went...hunting, or anything like that?"

"When would I have gone hunting? Not terribly much game in Marseille."

He shrugs. "I don't know; I went hunting when I was younger. That is where I learned to shoot."

"Of course. Not part of my upbringing, therefore I have only ridden here."

"It seems we are both learning new things here, in that case."

"Certainly preferable to learning nothing, I think."

"--Well, yes." He finishes his wine.

He downs his own as well and sets the empty glass down. He then promptly leans his head against Enjolras's shoulder. "I cannot wait until this month is over."

“Let us hope it only lasts a month, I am getting exceedingly low on flour.”

"I don't think they want us to die. Or die again, in our particular cases."

“Mm.” He glances towards the ceiling, frowning. “No, they intend on making nuisances of themselves in more frustrating ways.”

"You know, now that you mention it, you're right. I would make an excellent mansion spirit."

“You would not entrap me in a closet for what seemed like hours with Mlle. Susan.”

"Oh, of course not. I would absolutely do you the service of entrapping you with myself instead."

"That would be much more preferable."

"I am truly honored to hear it."

"Mm, are you?" He leans against the warmth of Grantaire a little, closing his eyes.

"So far as I can be honored, yes, of course."

"--Well. Thank you."

He smiles a little. "It's nothing."

"Did you get stuck in a closet with anyone?"

"I did not. I honestly can't think of anyone here they could have stuck me in a closet with if their aim was to annoy me."

“That would be because Pontmercy is not here.”

"I think that would still annoy you more."

“You would be at least mildly annoyed, I think.”

"Possibly. Depends on what he decided to go on about. On the other hand, if he disappeared from the closet as quickly as he disappeared from a dance we went to once, the problem would be solved quite readily."

“I shall assume Courfeyrac was the one who dragged him along with you all, Pontmercy does not seem the type for dances.”

"I think he went in hopes he'd see his lady love, and then when she wasn't there, he decided he didn't have to be either."

"I mean, it does seem somewhat pointless in that respect. I would not blame him for leaving."

"Dancing can be delightful regardless, though."

He shrugs carefully, trying not to dislodge Grantaire's head from his shoulder. "I suppose. With the right company."

"The right company is certainly preferable of course. Like the proper sauce on a dish."

"Mm. Yes." He gives Grantaire a small smile.

The small smile is met with a larger one. "You are an excellent sauce."

He snorts a little. "What flavor?"

"Hmmm. I think perhaps a hollandaise."

“And what is your reasoning?”

"Much like you, it's blond and I'm very rarely upset to see it."

“…..That is exceedingly stupid,” he says fondly, and kisses Grantaire’s cheek, amused.

He cannot help a grin. "Well, as I am also exceedingly stupid, I can hardly say you should have expected much different."

“I did not; I simply wanted to hear your reasoning.”

"And so you have. I'm glad it at least amused you."

“You would undoubtedly be some kind of wine sauce.”

He laughs brightly. "Oh, almost certainly."

"Bordelaise, or perhaps lyonnaise. I suppose it depends on your mood."

"Now you have me curious. Which sauce matches which mood?"

"Whichever wine you are currently drinking, of course," wryly. "But I would say generally bordelaise."

"Quite a rich sauce you've given me."

"You like a good meat dish, it seemed fitting."

"Well, you're not wrong," he says easily.

"I thought not."

"Not that I'm not also fond of sweet things from time to time, of course."

"Ah," he nods, looking somewhat amused. "I do not think I qualify as 'sweet', unfortunately."

"You can be, from time to time. I'm not fooled."

"Oh, are you not? Name one time."

He immediately straightens and looks directly at the wine bottle Enjolras literally just brought.

He shrugs. "I would do that for any friend who enjoys wine."

"That only helps my point."

"What point? I do not think I heard one." He raises an eyebrow.

"My point that you can be sweet from time to time."

"Tch." He crosses his arms across his chest, but his point is belied by the fact that he's still firmly snuggled up against Grantaire.

He laughs a little and kisses Enjolras's cheek.

Enjolras turns once he's moved back to pull him into a more proper kiss, smiling softly.

Oh, well then. He'll quite happily return it, in that case.

Good. He had hoped there would be no complaints.

There are many things Grantaire is apt to complain about, but kisses from Enjolras are very much never going to be one of them. He smiles a bit around the kiss.

Lucien pulls back eventually, settling himself more comfortably against Grantaire. "I suppose you shall say that was sweet, too. I will not complain."

He leans quite happily back against Enjolras. "I will, in fact, say so. And add that your not complaining is also sweet."

He just makes a bit of a grumbling noise and tentatively settles an arm over Grantaire's shoulders.

He takes the opportunity to nestle about as close to Enjolras as possible given the two-chairs seating arrangement, smothering a smile at the lack of real objection that time.

"What?" The question is almost lazy.

"Nothing. Just comfortable."

"Very well." He is just going to contentedly snuggle for a while, in that case.

That makes two of them. "I'm glad you came to visit."

"I will admit Sagramore was a partial influence on my decision." But he nuzzles close, regardless. "--Also I wanted to check in."

"Should I ask how Sagramore influenced it?"

"He thinks I should be kinder to you." Among other things. But he's not going to discuss those just yet.

He huffs out something close to a laugh. "Don't listen to him; you're fine."

"It is alright, he was quite drunk."

"All right, then. I will say officially, though, that I have no complaints." He pauses. "Well, no complaints on that particular score, I can always find complaints."

"I would hope you have no complaints of the current arrangement."

He laughs a little. "Wouldn't dream of it."

There's a small smile, and he leans to press a tentative kiss to Grantaire's cheek. "Good."

He smiles. "I'm not particularly fragile, I should point out."

"That is what I told him."

"Then you needn't be concerned."

"I am not, I assure you."

He kisses Enjolras's cheek. "Good."

"I do...ah. Care for you. No matter what he seems to think."

"I know you do. Which is fortunately the important consideration."

"Yes." He's going to take the opportunity to snuggle in again.

He snuggles back as best he can. "Honestly, after Dark I am going to find a sofa for this room if it's the last thing I do."

He laughs a little. "We might move to the bed, if you like. It would certainly be more comfortable."

"I have no objections."

"Alright." He is at a bit of a loss for what else to do here, but he does disentangle himself from Grantaire and head to the bed.

Grantaire follows, promptly sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back on his hands. "I still do plan to find a sofa, though."

"Well, one may appear once this season is done with. I have noticed my rooms shifting about gradually -- or I did, before the last month."

He leans against Enjolras comfortably. "Yes, but it does seem so entertaining to push a sofa down the hallway."

"It is not as entertaining as it seems, I assure you."

"Not at first glance, perhaps, but if I could find a couple pairs of shoes with wheels on them..."

"....That seems ...ill-advised."

"Ill-advised? Me?"

"Mm, yes, you generally come up with brilliant plans. My mistake."

"So kind of you to recognize it."

He just rolls his eyes and nudges Grantaire's shoulder gently.

He nudges back, then, laughing a little.

"Please do not put wheeled shoes on a couch."

"I will try to remember to avoid it."

"Thank you."

He grins, because that was in no way confirmation that he would avoid it, even if he did remember. "You're most welcome."

He just gives Grantaire a wary look. "I will, however, be quite amused if a couch just happens to appear in your rooms without having traveled by wheels."

"That would be entertaining. And probably most deserved if it appeared just as I was opening the door with a couch that had traveled by wheels."

"Indeed." He, at least, is amused with himself.

"But then I would have two couches, so I would, in fact, be extremely fortunate."

"Would you even be able to fit two couches in here?"

"If I were determined enough, certainly."

"I see." He's going to take the opportunity to sprawl out on the bed a little.

He smiles. "Comfortable enough?"

“Yes. Are you?” It feels silly to be asking this of Grantaire in his own rooms; but he is a little uncertain of what to do here.

Grantaire doesn't laugh, but only just, and he sprawls out next to Enjolras. "Perfectly."

“I am—“ He hesitates for a moment and sighs. “I’m sorry. I am —this feels awkward.”

He promptly sits back up. "No apologies needed. Would you like to take a walk? Not outside, of course, entirely too cold. Fencing or something?"

“I don’t know. I am content to sit here; I just — do not know what to do.”

He flops back down, in that case. "Tell me about Rousseau, then."

He laughs a little. “What is there that you have not already heard?”

"What does that matter? I assure you I'll be a rapt audience regardless."

“Mm. You always are.”

"Makes your job much easier, then."

“I do not know if ‘easier’ is the word for it.”

Edited 2024-04-17 16:03 (UTC)

"What word would you use?"

“Mm, frustrating, I think.” He’s very definitely teasing.

"I think that's just part and parcel of being in my general vicinity."

“Perhaps it is, yes.” He stretches out a little and gives Grantaire a tentative look.

Grantaire is, for his point, quite comfortable. "Yes?"

"Ah. Nothing."

"If you say so, fearless leader." He doesn't sound for an instant like he actually believes him.

"You needn't sound like that," he says, half-defensively. "When I told you I am uncertain of -- all this. This is not helping."

He reaches over and takes Enjolras's hand, squeezing it lightly. "Enjolras. Lucien. I do not want to make things more difficult for you." He pauses. "Well, I don't want to make this specifically more difficult for you."

"And I don't wish to speak of Rousseau." He huffs slightly, but doesn't pull his hand away. "I wish to -- well, you know what I wish." There is a pause. "I also wish that you might take some initiative, from time to time. I can only stand so much dithering." Even from himself, apparently, because he's abruptly pulling Grantaire into a thorough kiss.

He quite readily kisses back, of course, and when the kiss ends, he doesn't pull back far, staying very much in Enjolras's space. "I did ask you not to make me guess your mind. I know you are new to all of this and, as I said, I do not want to make things more difficult for you."

"Well, what do you want, me to stride in and say I've come to sleep with you?" He makes an annoyed noise and looks away briefly, frowning. "You will not frighten me away by making an attempt, you know. I am not some maiden who is easily scared off."

He can't help a brief laugh at the mental image of the first statement. "I take your point. Scaring you away does seem unlikely if I haven't managed it thus far." He leans in for another kiss.

"Neither of us have," he points out, but takes a moment to return the kiss, letting himself relax a little more.

"I am not angry at you," he adds, quieter. "I am not angry at all, only frustrated. I am acting like a fool, I am sorry."

He smiles, and rests his forehead against Enjolras's. "I know. I've seen you angry at me, I wouldn't mistake it. But you're also not acting like a fool, and you can treat me as an authority on that matter."

"You are," he replies, with a teasing twist of his lips, nudging his own forehead against Grantaire's. "What am I acting like then, if not a fool? I certainly feel as though I am. I did not mean to imply that you might guess my mind, when I am not plain about it. It is ...difficult to know what to say."

"You're acting as if you're new to this. Which is not surprising." He pauses. "Although I will say that saying you've come to sleep with me would be effective, once I'd stopped laughing."

"It would be effective for you, perhaps, but I would think I would have lost all taste for anything of that nature by that point."

"Crossing that off the list, then," he says amiably before giving him another brief kiss.

"Would laughing at anyone make them in the mood for that sort of thing?" It's an honest question; but he is thankfully distracted by the kiss to linger on that for too long.

"As with many things, it depends on the context. Such as whether it's a matter at which they can laugh along. But I understand."

“Mm. I suppose so.” He nuzzles a little closer. “Well. Thank you? I think?”

"You're very welcome." He rests a hand on Enjolras's cheek, pushing some of his hair behind his ear.

Enjolras smiles and leans in to kiss him again, slow and gentle.

Grantaire kisses back, running his thumb lightly along his cheekbone.

“Tell me what you’d like,” he offers, after a quiet moment. “This is pleasant, but I do not know —“

His breath hitches very slightly and he swallows. He reaches out to lightly trace the collar of Enjolras's sweater. "Please can I just... can I see you?"

He blinks a little, but nods. He is a little uncertain here, not quite as sure of himself as he normally would be, but he moves to take the sweater off regardless. “Very well.”

"Thank you," he says quietly. As Enjolras removes his sweater, Grantaire reaches out to gently trace the planes of his chest.

He moves to set a careful hand at Grantaire’s waist, watching him curiously. “You may do as you will.”

"Mm." His fingers continue their exploration for a while before he leans in to press a soft kiss to Enjolras's collarbone.

He is still a little uncertain; but definitely not unwilling. “Mm.” His head tilts a little to give Grantaire better access, with a quiet pleased noise.

He continues, then, leaving a trail of kisses along the line of his collarbone to the hollow of his throat.

He makes another soft noise; smiling a little. “That is good.”

"Good," he says quietly against Enjolras's skin, a faint smile of his own crossing his features. "Please tell me if anything isn't." He continues his trail up the other side.

“Mmhm.” He lets his free hand settle in Grantaire’s hair, tugging a little at it.

He flicks his gaze up to Enjolras. "Harder, if you'd like," he murmurs before returning to peppering kisses along his chest.

"Yes," he says, absently, before a thought occurs to him, and he pulls away momentarily, just enough so he can fix Grantaire with a firm stare. "Before anything else should occur, I need your word. If I should overstep, or do something you do not like, or do not wish -- please tell me. Promise that you will, I do not wish to be cruel in any way save what you will of --ah, this." More importantly, he does not wish to be worshipped, but he is uncertain of how to say that in a way that will not be awkward. "Before we get too carried away, please. Your word."

He's pinned by that stare, unable to look away. He swallows and speaks, a bit breathlessly. "You have my word. I'll tell you if there's something I don't like. And I give that word so that you can trust that if I don't say something, I don't dislike it."

"Very well," he nods, and settles back into Grantaire's arms. "I --mm. I am not certain how to say this, but." He tugs at one of Grantaire's curls again, thinking. "I do not wish to be adored. Does that make sense?"

He's quiet for a moment, contemplating that. "I think... not adoring you would be impossible. But I think maybe, knowing me, and knowing you well enough... you don't wish to be venerated. Yes?"

"Yes, that is it." He presses a soft kiss to Grantaire's hair. "If you can do that."

"I can do that. For all of the vestments of godhood I wove with my words to put on your shoulders, what I love has always been the man beneath them. So I will adore you as that man, and not revere you as the god."

"Thank you." He hesitates a little, but presses another, gentle kiss to Grantaire's head.

He smiles, flushing just a bit, and shifts to push a kiss where Enjolras's neck meets his shoulder.

Enjolras shifts again in return, and tugs at his hair again, a little harder this time.

A quick sharp inhale through his nose and he returns to trailing kisses down Enjolras's chest, pausing for a moment before latching to suck lightly at one of his nipples.

There's another soft noise, and he arches into Grantaire's touch, hand tightening at his waist.

And that's a pleased hum as he keeps up the attention, chancing a glance at Enjolras's face.

Enjolras looks —focused. He is enjoying himself; of course, that is evident enough in the small pleased noises, but his hands are shifting to Grantaire’s clothes now, beginning to methodically work at buttons and ties.

And Grantaire shifts his weight and adjusts his position as needed to accommodate Enjolras's task, taking the opportunity to switch to his other nipple as he does so.

“You don’t need to be gentle,” he says, flushing a little as he continues with his self-appointed task. To prove his point, he slips a hand under Grantaire’s shirt and scratches, just hard enough to get that point across.

And his head pulls up a bit to gasp at that. But no sooner does that finish than he returns to peppering Enjolras's chest with kisses, only now adding in the occasional sharp nip.

Those nips are spurring him to get on with taking Grantaire’s clothes off, and his fingers quicken their pace and continue on; with a brief pause for another scratch.

That results in another pleased inhalation, although directly against Enjolras's skin this time, and Grantaire murmurs something indistinct but clearly pleased before continuing his own self-appointed task.

Eventually he’s finished with his task; and takes a moment to settle back on the bed and just watch Grantaire. This is a lot to take in, and it’s a little overwhelming, but he smiles and moves to stroke Grantaire’s hair again.

He's far from the only one in the room that's a bit overwhelmed. Grantaire leans into the touch, a soft pleased noise emerging from somewhere in the back of his throat.

He continues petting Grantaire's hair, tentative and slow. There's no need to move quickly; he is unsure of himself as it is and that would only serve to make him even more tense. "Mm."

If he were a cat, he'd probably be purring, but as it is, he does not have the anatomy for that. Still, there's a soft pleased hum and he shifts a bit, pressing kisses to Enjolras's stomach.

Enjolras shifts as well, closing his eyes and tugging at Grantaire's hair again.

He hisses softly and promptly bestows another quick sharp bite just above Enjolras's navel.

He makes a soft inchoate noise and arches his hips slightly, blushing a little more.

He hums against Enjolras's skin, amused, and continues bestowing kisses and the occasional bite almost ludicrously slowly in a downward direction.

Enjolras will, in that case, be urging him downward with sharp tugs to his curls. "Étienne. You know I am not a patient man."

And that is a low hum of acknowledgement as he works on the button of Enjolras's jeans, continuing his trail of kisses and nibbles.

That, in turn, increases the sharpness of his tugs to Grantaire’s hair, and earns him some soft groans.

Those tugs coax some low groans out of Grantaire in turn, and he makes quick work unfastening Enjolras's jeans and yanking them down along with his underwear. He licks his lips in anticipation, glancing up at Enjolras again.

Enjolras is in fact blushing again, but Grantaire's kisses and bites have certainly done their work. He hesitates a moment, stroking Grantaire's hair lightly, and smiles tentatively. "Do as you like."

A shadow of an answering smile flits across Grantaire's face before he takes a slow breath and takes Enjolras into his mouth.

Enjolras' eyes flutter closed at that, and he takes a shaky breath, shifting so his weight is distributed more evenly than it currently is. "Oh."

He hums in agreement, bracing his hands on Enjolras's hips as he starts to bob his head.

Lucien makes a soft, hungry noise, and tries his best to stay still for the present, but his hand hasn't left Grantaire's curls.

He pauses to work his tongue around the head of Enjolras's cock for a bit before he resumes, bobbing a bit faster.

"Ah, Christ--" His hand tightens again, and he arches his hips a bit despite himself.

He makes a low pleased noise at the combination of the sharp sensation of Enjolras's hand in his hair with his other reactions and simply the taste of him. It's still unfathomable, yet he's absolutely intent on savoring every detail.

Enjolras will let him continue on in that vein, then, making soft pleased groans every once in a while and shifting his hips. "You might, ah -- mnn, more."

A slightly quizzical hum, but still, he tightens his grip on Enjolras's hips and increases his pace.

He groans again, a little deeper this time, and tries to master himself enough to manage a full sentence. "You may be, ah. Rougher. If you like."

For a moment there's not much indication that he even heard, but then, without breaking his rhythm, Grantaire slides his hands up to the sides of Enjolras's ribcage and then raking his nails down his sides.

Enjolras groans again and arches his hips properly, hissing. "Mmmn."

His pace stutters for a moment as he takes Enjolras deeper with that hip arch and digs his nails in a bit harder.

Edited 2024-04-30 01:42 (UTC)

Lucien's hands grasp in his hair again and tug, fluttering. "Mm, I --" For once, he doesn't have words, and he just makes a low, shaky noise.

And that's a low hum around Enjolras as Grantaire continues, keeping his pace fairly steady if a bit quicker than it had been.

It’s not too much longer after that before he gives a sharp tug to Grantaire’s hair and groans, arching up as he finishes.

He swallows almost greedily, pulling off eventually and barely moving, opting to rest his head on Enjolras's hip and look up at him with a smile that could probably best be described as giddy.

In return, Enjolras strokes his hair a little, smiling hazily back as he tries to regain some sense of words. "Mmm."

"Mmhm." He closes his eyes, his smile softening a bit. He has a heady feeling, absolutely none of which can be blamed on the wine.

In that case, Enjolras will continue to play leisurely with his hair, from time to time letting his hands slip down to caress Grantaire's shoulders and neck.

Grantaire stays put for several moments, content, before ultimately opting to make a concession for his comfort. He climbs up next to Enjolras, nestling up next to him and slinging an arm lightly around his waist.

Enjolras drowsily does the same, snuggling into Grantaire's arms just as much as he will let him. He does, however, remain silent for now, smiling faintly.

He smiles back, lazily tracing abstract patterns along Enjolras's skin with his fingertips.

"That was --mm. Very good." He stretches like a pleased cat and snuggles up once more.

"High praise," he says happily as he snuggles back.

"Mm. Well, it was worth it." He leans to press a gentle kiss to Grantaire's cheek.

Grantaire closes his eyes tightly, nestling close. "Merci."

"Give me a few more moments and I will, ah -- return the favor, if you should like."

He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "If I would--" He laughs softly. "Lucien, I can't imagine much I'd like more."

He nods, and soon enough he makes good on his word, presumably ending with two very happy young Frenchmen snuggled up together.

Oh, the absolute happiest. "You will forever surprise me with your talents."

closed: 'you don't believe in anything.' 'i believe in you.'

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject