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

[untamedantinous]

The past few days have been less than pleasant. Firstly, it seemed that winter had decided to take an extended stay here at the mansion: yes, he knew this place had odd seasons, but winter has never been one of his favorites, even at home. Enjolras has been uneasy, lately, spending most of his evenings holed up with Laertes and Sagramore in an effort to avoid nightmares.

Today, he is hoping that spending time with the one other person from Paris will do him good: and besides that, it has been some time since he has properly seen Grantaire. It would do to check in on him, he thinks. And so, he has gathered up books and his nearly ever-present notebook, intent on doing some writing as well. --As an afterthought, he grabs the unopened bottle of wine that Dionysus had given him, and proceeds to Grantaire's rooms, where he knocks at the door.

"Grantaire?"

Comments

[untamedantinous]

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

[futaille]

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?"

[untamedantinous]

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.”

[futaille]

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

[untamedantinous]

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

[futaille]

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

[untamedantinous]

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.

[futaille]

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

[untamedantinous]

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

[futaille]

"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.

[untamedantinous]

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

[futaille]

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

[untamedantinous]

"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."

[futaille]

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."

[untamedantinous]

"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?"

[futaille]

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?"

[untamedantinous]

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

[futaille]

"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."

[untamedantinous]

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

[futaille]

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

[untamedantinous]

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

[futaille]

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.

[untamedantinous]

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

[futaille]

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

[untamedantinous]

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.