Chapter Text
Grantaire wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get himself into this mess. It wasn’t supposed to go this way, wasn’t supposed to go on this long. Every time he made the trek over to Enjolras’s apartment, Grantaire swore it would be the last time - but that was all forgotten the moment he was pushed back onto Enjolras’s bed.
It - whatever it was - started out simple enough. Friends with benefits, no strings attached. The boundaries were set: no emotions, no making breakfast in the morning, and absolutely no interference with their personal lives. Grantaire hated those rules with a passion. Nevertheless, he agreed, because it was a small price to pay to keep those calloused hands and golden hair in his life.
In the beginning, it was an easy routine to fall into. Wild, and exciting, and fun, like a carnival ride. Now, Grantaire was yelling for the operator to let him off.
The first time they had kissed was after an argument. Grantaire liked to rile Enjolras up, purely for entertainment. This particular fight was different from the others, though. Enjolras flew into the Cafe Musain, the local coffee shop on the edge of campus, ranting about some stupid literary theory. It was funny to see his emotions get the better of him, so Grantaire relentlessly incited the man’s anger. He knew he went too far when Enjolras gave up and stormed away to his apartment.
Grantaire felt bad, a little bit, but immediately regretted his life choices when he was met with exasperated looks from his friends. “Go apologize,” Combeferre deadpanned, holding up a hand to stop the childish protests all but spilling out of Grantaire. “Now.”
Reluctantly, he got up and followed Enjolras’s whirlwind trail back to his place, practicing a bullshit apology that he hoped would satiate the hurricane brewing in the blond.
After a deep sigh and quick prayer to whatever deity that could protect him from Enjolras’s wrath, Grantaire knocked on his door - half-hoping he wouldn’t be there. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Enjolras. Normally, it was fun to get caught up in the revolutionary’s wild ideas and passion. The depth of his determination and empathy was incredible, but so was his anger. Quick-tempered and sharp-tongued, Enjolras was a good man who could easily turn ruthless.
That is why, when the door yanked open to reveal Enjolras glaring pointedly at a spot above Grantaire’s head, Grantaire all but cursed himself for ever deciding to attend college. Finally lowering his gaze to Grantaire, Enjolras all but growled, “What,” more of a statement than a question.
Unable to return the scowl, Grantaire elected to stare at Enjolras’s collarbone, which he justified by it being at eye-level. “I came to apologi-!” He was cut off with a yelp as Enjolras simply dragged him into the room by his collar. Slamming the door shut behind him, Enjolras released his grip on Grantaire’s poor t-shirt and began to pace around in the tiny living area.
“You are so frustrating, do you know that?!” Enjolras barked, and Grantaire couldn’t help but shrink in on himself. “Why do you always have to fight with me? Is it like a game to you?”
Grantaire resisted the urge to say “yes, it is absolutely a game, why else would I do it?” but the look on Enjolras’s face was almost feral.
Enjolras stopped pacing, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Well? What’s your deal? Do you make it a point to argue because you hate me? What is it?”
Somewhere in this conversation, Grantaire had gotten lost. “Wait, what? I don’t - I don’t hate you. Why would I hate you?” The tension that had built up in Grantaire’s body caused his hands to twitch, feeling like a soda that had Mentos dropped into it and then quickly bottled up.
“Don’t act all innocent now,” Enjolras said lowly, arms still crossed and gaze narrowed, “I see the way you glare at me when you’re drunk. It isn’t exactly indiscreet.”
Anger flowed back into Grantaire’s veins. “At least I’m not the one who acts holier-than-thou all the time!” He spit, “At least I don’t act like a toddler when he doesn’t get his way!”
Enjolras’s nose flared. “Stop.” He was moving steadily closer, but Grantaire was too pissed to notice or care.
“No, you know what? I’m glad I’m not like you. I’m glad I don’t have to constantly seek everyone’s approval and attention! I’m glad I-!”
“Stop.” This time, Grantaire was cut off by Enjolras pushing him back against the door, the suddenness of it knocking the wind out of his lungs. “Just shut up for once in your goddamned life.”
The difference in height between them had never really been that noteworthy, but now Grantaire felt like an antelope cornered by a cheetah. Enjolras’s palms were flat against the door on either side of Grantaire’s head, almost like a challenge. It had never really occurred to Grantaire, but in that moment he was struck by the incomprehensible yet obvious truth: Enjolras was hot.
Maybe his expression revealed too much, because Enjolras let out a low snarl and pushed himself away, turning away from Grantaire. The gold of Enjolras’s hair burned bright against the angry red of his face, the color splotchy across his arms as he raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the ass, Enjolras?” Grantaire turned around to leave the apartment, having completed his task unsuccessfully.
In a moment, Enjolras pushed the door closed once more and blocked Grantaire’s exit. “I’ll give you a pain in the ass,” Enjolras huffed. Grantaire reddened at the implication of his words, blushing further when he realized just how close they were. He could feel the breath fanning out from Enjolras on his face. With the man’s head tilted down towards Grantaire, Enjolras looked exactly like a Greek statue. His face was all angles and sharp lines. Even his mouth was harsh - a defined Cupid’s bow with teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Grantaire released a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, transfixed on Enjolras’s lips.
Ripping his gaze away, Grantaire made for the doorknob again, ducking his head to hide his ever-deepening fluster. “I’m so tired of you and your-”
“Stop.”
Ignoring Enjolras, Grantaire continued, “-God complex. Truly, isn’t it exhausting?”
“Stop.”
Grantaire snarled, “Must be rough-”
Enjolras grabbed the man’s shoulders, pushing him away from the door. “Do you ever shut up?!”
“No, I-” The words were abandoned as Enjolras pressed his lips to Grantaire’s. It was quick, only a peck, but it left him speechless as Enjolras pulled away.
Enjolras snorted, unimpressed, “I figured as much. All bark.” He dropped his hands and moved to let Grantaire out of the apartment.
Pissed off and worked up, Grantaire grabbed Enjolras’s wrist and scowled, “You’re a prick. Who the hell do you think you are?” Enjolras didn’t say anything, only glanced down to where Grantaire was still holding onto him, absent-mindedly running his tongue along his top lip and for a split-second, Grantaire wanted to know what Enjolras’s mouth tasted like.
He didn’t have to wonder long. With his free hand, Enjolras reached out to grasp the back of Grantaire’s neck, pulling him closer as he quickly leaned down to kiss him again. Relinquishing his grip on Enjolras’s wrist, Grantaire hooked his fingers into the man’s belt holes and pulled him closer, sighing into the kiss. Enjolras tasted like the coffee he had earlier and the mint toothpaste he used.
Grantaire’s head was spinning. Pulling away to catch a breath, he steadied his hands on Enjolras’s hips, muttering, “Does this mean you accept my apology even though I haven’t technically apologized?”
Enjolras snorted once more, and quickly spun them around to push Grantaire’s back into the door. “It’s going to take more than that to forgive you,” He growled into Grantaire’s ear, then set to attacking Grantaire’s neck with his mouth, hands running along his torso.
Grantaire swallowed, hard, revelling in the feeling of his body pressed against Enjolras’s. “Wh-what exactly did you have in mind?” He cursed his stuttering voice, but with Enjolras determined to leave a mark on the base of his throat, coherent thinking was almost impossible.
Enjolras chuckled against Grantaire’s skin, the sensation rather dizzying. Grantaire tilted his head back against the door, panting as Enjolras moved his mouth up his neck. Warm hands and a warm mouth clouded Grantaire’s mind, his own hands knotting themselves into the back of Enjolras’s shirt as if he could somehow pull him closer.
Enjolras didn’t answer, only giving a low hum in response. Grantaire could feel the scrape of teeth against skin and the feather-light touch of Enjolras’s fingertips ghosting along his sides. A warmth in the pit of his stomach was building. If this continued on any longer, his knees were going to give out, unable to keep himself upright.
Grantaire gasped, “Enj,” lightly tugging at blond curls in warning. “Enjolras, I-“
Enjolras backed up to properly look at Grantaire, eyes slowly sweeping down his silhouette. The latter shivered under the evaluation, pressing back against the door for balance.
Grantaire has never seen something so beautiful in his life. His Apollo, his Achilles, with wine-red lips, messed-up hair, and dark eyes. The fact that he, Grantaire, had been the one to do that filled him with a sense of satisfaction.
His body ached. He needed to be touched, needed Enjolras’s hands on him. Somehow, he had survived over two decades without ever having that, but now there’s no way he would’ve made it.
Enjolras wasn’t moving, just staring, and Grantaire felt close to exploding with want. “Please,” He mumbled. “Please, please, please…”
A defined eyebrow quirked up at Grantaire’s words. “Please what?” Enjolras smirked, leaning an arm against the door. “I’m not sure what you’re asking for.”
Grantaire glared up at him as the man feigned oblivion, obviously delighted by the effect he had on Grantaire. Recognizing that Enjolras was not going to give in, Grantaire let out a sigh. No time for embarrassment.
He looked up at Enjolras through his lashes, pouting. “Please kiss me.”
Enjolras’s face broke open in a grin as he leaned down to obey. Closing his eyes, Grantaire got lost in the feeling of their mouths slotted together. He gasped in surprise as he felt himself being lifted into the air and held against the door. Strong arms wrapped under Grantaire’s thighs, holding him in place while large hands came to rest on his ass. It was a matter of seconds before Enjolras noticed Grantaire’s growing desire and pulled away from the kiss. He snickered as Grantaire flushed red, redder when Enjolras rolled his hips in and kneaded the flesh under his fingers. Smirking, Enjolras set right back into sucking the skin of Grantaire’s neck, kissing and biting at the pulse points.
Grantaire let out a groan as Enjolras began grinding hard and fast into him. He felt like a teenager again, rutting feverishly, yet still fully-clothed. Every thrust caused his back to slam into the door, while his thighs were beginning to bruise due to the pressure of Enjolras’s arms. He hated to admit it, but the dull bite of pain nearly pushed him over the edge. The coil in his stomach was tightening and pulsing. The muscles in his abdomen tensed.
Enjolras pushed Grantaire’s legs further apart, continuing his brutal pace. The heat rising in Grantaire’s stomach demanded release. He whined, lightly tugging on Enjolras’s hair again. He couldn’t help the pathetic noises spilling from his lips.
Like the sadist he is, Enjolras didn’t let up, only cooed, “Use your words, baby.”
It took everything in Grantaire not to come then and there. “I’m close,” He breathed, “Enjolras, I’m gonna-”
It was at that moment Enjolras set him back down on the ground and stopped what he was doing. Head foggy from being denied release, Grantaire stumbled forward, trying to get Enjolras back against him.
But he just kept Grantaire at arms length, a small smile on his face. Enjolras tilted Grantaire’s head to the side, momentarily examining his handiwork. With a small hum of approval, Enjolras turned away, saying, “You know where the door is.”
It took Grantaire a moment to comprehend what had happened, the words not quite making sense. “Wait, what?”
“That’s code for “get out,” Grantaire.” Enjolras laughed, waving goodbye to the perplexed man standing at his doorway.
“But-”
Enjolras’s eyes lit up, “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Apology accepted.”
Grantaire could do nothing but blink in confusion as he was led out of the apartment. The door slammed shut behind him.
Grumbling a “fuck you, Enjolras,” Grantaire speeded down the hallway, praying no one would see his hard-on before he had a chance to fix it.