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

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

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?"

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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.