#laviedure

Grantaire had been hiding away from the world and been drinking to numb his feelings because this was what grown-up, responsible adults did, right? Oh, and he had been painting. Painting a lot. Working with lots of blacks and yellows. And reds. Lot of reds. His first paintings during the first day of him staying at his new studio had still kind of resembled some almost figures but as the hours bled into days and nights, the wine flowing more frequently and then being replaced for brandy, his works started to be more abstract. But the color scheme had stayed the same, though his latest work also included blotches of blue. He couldn't remember when he had gotten Apollo but truth was, his dog was curled up right at his feet while Grantaire kept on painting. It was always the same: a couple of strokes with the brush, a sip of brandy - or wine, another couple of strokes with the brush, more brandy or wine. When he heard the knock at the door, he expected Eponine. Maybe Marie. He had made sure to take absence from any work that he might have needed to be doing because he had been feeling restless. His night terrors had gotten worse and he had barely gotten any sleep anyway - any and all sleep was thanks to the sweet side effects of alcohol, drowning him into short but dreamless naps. Right. The door. Slowly, he got up, not caring that he kicked a bottle away whilst setting his foot in front of the other. Apollo had woken up and already stormed towards the door, wagging his tail. Must be someone he knew then. Maybe Gavroche. Stumbling over to the door, he opened it, fully aware that he probably looked the way he felt: exhausted, unkempt. When he saw the familiar blonde hair - noticing the hair before anything else - he resisted the urge to just close the door again. Not because he did not want to see Enjolras, oh no, he did want to see him but he was fully aware of how bad he must have been looking right that moment. Fighting his instinct, he opened the door further to let Apollo stick his head through and excitedly sniff at Enjolras' trousers. Without a word - because speaking was hard, he felt like he hadn't used his voice in days - he opened the door even further in a silent invitation whilst leaning against the wall to keep him upright because standing was just as hard as speaking.

Enjolras saw the door open, and immediately ducked his head, glancing up at his boyfriend through his blond curls, trying to figure out what was going on, but having little idea of how to consolidate such a picture. The alcohol smell was strong, though. That wasn't a good sign. Enjolras swallowed, and thrust the oranges into Grantaire's hands without comment, and he just-- His hands itched to encircle his boyfriend, but he didn't know if that was acceptable or a good idea or anything or if it would fuck everything up, so he just-- He knelt and hugged Apollo instead, his eyes and nose already beginning to stream from allergies, but he hugged the dog close as a surrogate Grantaire.

Grantaire blinked down at the oranges, ignoring how dizzy looking down made him feel. It took him another few moments before he turned his gaze to Enjolras who was almost buried underneath Apollo. Oh. Slowly, he let himself slide down against the wall, not quite touching his dog or boyfriend but close enough that all that would be needed to do so was lifting his hand. Sitting was a lot better than standing, Grantaire found and this was good. Probably would have been better if Enjolras was fully inside the studio and the door was closed but for now, this worked. As he tried to figure out what exactly was expected of him - thinking was hard when his mind felt like it was filled with a mixture of cotton and fog - he absentmindedly started fidgeting with the oranges in his hands. Picking at one in particular with his left hand to tug of tiny stripes of the skin.

Enjolras practically melted into Apollo, his body shaking with a sneeze that he directed away from the dog before he lowkey buried himself in the large black creature, tangling his fingers in the fur and closing itchy, red eyes (allergies were just fantastic) as he continued to clutch the doggo close, deciding that it was worth the tickle in his chest and in his nose, eyes still streaming obnoxiously. This was fine. This was preferable. He'd take what he could get, without the cues he needed to behave 'ordinarily' in interpersonal interaction.

Grantaire vaguely heard the sneeze and the thought of moving Enjolras away from Apollo came up but seeing how he buried himself deeper into Apollo he thought it would be better to leave him to it as it was obvious that this closeness was needed - and Grantaire was not sure if he could give the closeness at the time or if it was even wanted in the first place. Instead, he noticed that he peeled half of an orange already - how had that happened so quickly when the world felt like it was moving about three seconds slower than normal? Glancing down at the orange, he peeled off one piece and, still without a word, held it out towards Enjolras, not knowing if the other would even notice the slice offered or not. But it was there.

Enjolras 's throat was starting to feel strange, kind of slightly tighter than normal, but not enough to cause much alarm; he already knew he was allergic, so some slight burning in his throat wasn't exactly unlikely, particularly considering the itchiness of his face, and he continued to hold on to Apollo. There was movement, though, and Enjolras' shoulders tensed in a little flinch, half expecting something to make injurious contact with him, but nothing did, and so slowly, gnawing at his lower lip, he raised his head, blurred eyes seeking the intrusive object. What...was that? He squinted. An orange slice? Why was Grantaire offering it to him? Did he want him to eat it? His stomach lurched at the prospect and beneath the allergy-and-anxiety-induced blotchiness on his face, he kind of went white, shaking his head, his eyes fixed on a spot on the wall, it being less nerve-wracking to do so than actually looking at his boyfriend right now.

Grantaire squinted his eyes, less at the decline of the fruit but more at the paleness of Enjolras. Setting the oranges aside - because despite not remembering the last time he had eaten, hunger was not something he was feeling as of this moment - he considered what he could do. Clearly, Enjolras was in some form of distress? Should he get Apollo away from him and ask him what was wrong or what he needed? Biting his lip, he kept contemplating his next step. Maybe water was something that was needed but that would involve getting up and trying to find water - Grantaire was not sure if he even had any left here, for all he knew, the only liquids available could be of the alcoholic variety. A quiet hum escaped him, one that did not really mean anything. He was clueless as to what Enjolras could possibly be needing and it was a feeling he did not like. That was something he was sure of.

Enjolras brought a hand up to rub at his eyes, itchy as they were, but the thing was, he'd just been tangled up in Apollo, and that meant that his hands were covered in dog-ness, which meant that his eyes got even itchier, but it satisfied the initial itch with the unfortunate effect of making his eyes stream more and more, growing redder, but he kept doing it because then he wouldn't cry, even though his chest was shaking now, his throat irritated and his nerves...not helping things.

Grantaire ran his hand through his curls, clearly lost. He noticed Enjolras' shaking and let out a small sigh - which he was sure Enjolras would not have heard. Moving his hand towards Apollo, tugging slightly at his collar and, once he had the dog's attention, nodding towards further inside the studio, hoping that his dog would listen to him even without spoken commands and moved closer, even before Apollo had the chance to move out of the way. Slowly, he lifted one hand, moving slowly, making sure that his intentions were hopefully clear, before curling his hand loosely into Enjolras' curls. Physical closeness was still a 'je ne sais pas' for him but this? This he could do.

Enjolras was still rubbing at his itchy eyes when Grantaire sent Apollo away and his heart jumped into his throat, his elbows tugging further towards his sides. This was it, this was him being told that it wasn't okay to be here, that it wasn't okay for him to not be okay, because he knew that he was the only one that R believed in, he knew that if he let him down it'd be just one more person -- and one he cared for at that -- that he'd hurt. This would be the moment where Grantaire told him to go before he let him down and when did his chest get so tight, but-- There was a hand in his hair now, and he wasn't...he didn't... Enjolras stayed very still, very deliberately trying Not to Fuck Up, adjusting his posture so that his hands weren't moving and his feet weren't moving and none of his limbs or anything else was moving, because if he didn't move, then he wouldn't fuck this up and Grantaire wouldn't make him leave. It made perfect sense.

Grantaire grew even more confused by the utter stillness that Enjolras was showing now. Stillness was not something that Grantaire would ever connect to Enjolras and it just felt wrong. Maybe, what he had done had been a mistake. Maybe, Apollo was what Enjolras needed. Maybe he should have just let him be and went back to his painting. The stillness was starting to make Grantaire nervous. Merde. This did not seem to be working. Ignoring that the minimum touch had been making him feel slightly more like he was in the here and now, he slowly removed it but noticed that his hand was still hovering between them - in an awkward dance of 'what now'. Speaking was something that he should be doing that moment, he knew that but he still did not trust his voice.

Enjolras just barely flinched at the removal of the contact. It hadn't worked. He'd fucked up and Grantaire had removed his hand and now he-- "...If I don't...move..." he mumbled, his voice hoarse, scratchy, and quiet, matching his exterior. "Then...I won't...fu-ck up...and you...won't...make me leave...so-- I...won't move... Seen and not heard. This is...I won't do it again. Promise."

Grantaire blinked the moment Enjolras started talking - he had not expected that. While he listened, he could feel his own chest tighten up. Had he caused this? What had he done to make Enjolras feel like he would be kicked out? How had he made him feel like he had to be still in order to be allowed to stay? Feeling his own hands starting to shake slightly, he balled them into fists and took deep, slow breaths. "No," he replied, quietly, his voice scratchy from not having been used in a few days. "This.. this is wrong. You're never still. Or quiet. This-" He nodded at Enjolras, "This is not you." And that fact worried Grantaire more than he would like to admit. "I won't make you leave. Not for talking or just generally being around." Did his voice crack? "And if anyone ever tries to tell you that you'll only be allowed around if you're adjusting in a way that makes it feel like you're not yourself, then they don't deserve to have you around. And if... if I..." Yes, his voice definitely cracked, "If I gave you that feeling..." He trailed off, his mind not being able to form or finish the sentence, the fog in his mind making him lose track.

Enjolras swallowed anxiously as Grantaire spoke, his expression not really changing, like, at all, because that was a thing, but...he was still listening. It was something new, he thought, to be informed that it was okay to move about and stuff, something new to be in the company of someone who actually didn't mind the ways he made himself feel slightly more comfortable with, y'know, stuff, in general. It was new. New as shit. And what was he supposed to do with that? Slowly he did look up, however, not meeting R's eye because nope, but coming a little closer than last time. "You didn't, it...it's not you. Everything's just wrong today. I don't want this to be wrong too, I can't... I can't fuck up. Not again."

Grantaire moved his head slowly, to not cause more dizziness, into a head shake. "Again?" He asked, before slowly inching closer - now knowing that it was okay. He still did not feel alright for too much physical contact but a being closer - close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Enjolras' body - was something that he could handle. Once satisfied with the vicinity to his boyfriend, he let his hand curl back into the blonde curls. "Is there anything.... I can do?"

Enjolras nodded in response, hugging onto his own legs as Grantaire approached, but accepted the proximity and hand in his hair with a noise that essentially could be considered as a conglomeration of consonants but also as a sigh, shifting a little, slowly and repetitively in a self-soothing manner as he rubbed at the fabric of his jeans. "...This is...good...if you don't mind. I'm just... ...I'm sorry, I...know I walked out but-- I couldn't... The last time I fucked up everybody we cared about died. I know that it isn't the same, that...dropping a customer's change won't kill people, and that...if I forgot to give Petitaire his chew treat, he wouldn't die...and that...if I mess up with you, you won't either, but...I might lose you and-- I don't know what I'm doing. I can't do people, not in the smaller... I don't get faces easily and I don't get tones of voice and I'm not good at reading between the lines and I don't get sarcasm and I don't understand how people can do simple...social things without freaking out a lot of the time and I know that that means I'm going to mess up and...I'm going to mess this up...I probably already did, but-- No pressure...right? I don't know, I know that this is a lot but sometimes my mouth speaks and I just...bad things happen when I mess up and...I don't want to lose you, R."

Grantaire kept his hand in Enjolras' curls while the other spoke, his fingers gently weaving through them. Without properly thinking about it, he gently tugged at a strand of hair, curling it around his finger. He raised an eyebrow at the name 'Petitaire' but filing this information away from later - this was not the time to be commenting on it. The tight feeling in his chest grew stronger, in addition to the feeling of a knot curled inside of his stomach - which did not come from the consumption of alcohol. "You..." He started, "you aren't losing me, Enj. You should know by now that I am not that easy to get rid of. After all, I returned even after you told me to leave... back then." Grantaire shrugged, a small smile on his lips, "I will not be thrown off by you running away. I will be there for as long as you want me around. And even beyond that." When had Apollo snuck up to them again? The dog had curled up in front of them and it was a calming presence. "You haven't messed this up, I promise. And you should always do what you need to do to feel comfortable with yourself and your surrounding." Which was something that he himself should be trying to strive for more often. "I wish I could promise you to stop being sarcastic around you but I fear that this would be a promise I would be breaking but I what I can promise you is that, no matter what situation we are in, you can ask me to clarify my words if you are not sure what I mean. Maybe this will help. Because one thing I do not wish for is for you to feel like you can not talk to me or come to me if I do or say anything that you do not know how to deal with. I would promise to be like a rock for you if you need something to lean on but yet again it is something I can not freely give to you as I feel that I can barely even hold myself together. But I will try and help you when I can." Unless it was about political decision that he did not agree with. Which was something he should probably say, especially because Enjolras had just told him that he had trouble reading in between the lines but for now, he had laid so much out in the open already and he was growing exhausted. "I am not someone who can easily speak about how I really feel," he offered in return - as a 'thank you' for Enjolras' opening up. "This... us... it is going to take a lot of work but we knew that when we got into this in the first place. And, I repeat, you will not lose me just because things get hard. I am not going anywhere."

Enjolras did not still at the hand shifting through his hair, nor did he still at the words spilling forth from the mouth of Grantaire, but it wasn't out of discomfort, more out of 'this is more comfortable'. The things that were being said were honest and Enjolras...wasn't really sure what to do with that, but it was good. It was...welcome. And...he could ask for clarification. That was something he hadn't...had before. Though, then again, he hadn't had any of this before. He slowly nodded when Grantaire's words began to slow. "...Thank you, R. I'm sorry, I know that I'm not what you expected, but...thank you for...all of this. And for not making promises you know you can't keep. And it's mutual, I need you to know that. I care for you, I just... Like I said, everything feels wrong and like every move I make is wrong and things are fucking up all over the place and...it's happened before and logically I know that tiny mistakes won't make you leave, but I can't help but feel that they will, and... When you told me that I was the only one you believed in, I... I ca-- ...I already know that tiny mistakes are so much worse than they actually are and that if I fuck up everything could go to shit and-- ...It's so much pressure, but it's pressure that I should be able to handle; it was alright before, but... I don't know. I don't want you to...feel like you have to stop, I just-- I needed to say it because if I didn't I don't know what would happen and I don't want to-- I can't mess this up."

Grantaire hummed softly in response, his fingers still tangled in the hair. "I apologize if this made you feel pressured." He started, slowly, pausing for a moment to think of what to say next. "I.. do not know how to deal with everything that you are feeling but if there is anything you feel I can do to help, please tell me and I shall try." Another pause. "It is alright not to be okay, you know that, right? Things you might have been okay with before... everything, can now feel wrong and that is okay. A lot has changed and while most of who we are hasn't changed, it would be surprising and honestly unrealistic if nothing would have changed. What happened..." Grantaire hesitated, not liking to be talking about this but he had been alone with his thoughts for days and now he just... he needed this, "Was horrible." Which was an understatement. "And it has left its mark on all of us. It is something we'll have to learn how to deal with." He had no idea where he was going with what he was saying, all he knew was that he needed to say something. He hadn't realized that he had started picking at his trousers with his free hand. "Is there anything that I can do or say that would ensure you that I won't be leaving?"

Enjolras shook his head a little. "It's alright. I...am used to to pressure." A hesitation followed this, however, because...it wasn't alright to not be okay. For others, of course, but what excuse, what right did he have to not be okay? And his brow furrowed as he shifted, just a little, just enough so that he was sitting parallel to Grantaire as opposed to perpendicular to Grantaire. He wasn't touching him any more than he previously had been, he was just...more on an equal angle, as he slightly pushed at the floor with his fingers. And he shook his head. "...I don't know."

Grantaire held his breath when Enjolras started moving, worrying that his boyfriend might be moving closer to him than was comfortable at the moment but when that did not happen, he.. relaxed again. "Mh." Was all the noise he made as he glanced down at his leg where he was still fidgeting with his trousers. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get rid of the pressure he felt in his head - but he was more than aware of the fact that closed eyes were not going to help. "If you ever think of anything - or notice anything that could help, tell me, okay?"

Enjolras hugged his legs a little closer. "If you want me to go, I can go. I have the cats, I just...you...were there...even though you didn't... When it counts, even...when I fuck up, you're... I don't know how..."

Grantaire turned to look at Enjolras, fighting to not let out a sigh. "You don't have to go. If you feel comfortable here, you are welcome to stay." He paused, wondering if he should pull Enjolras in a sideway-hug - but that would involve more physical contact and he couldn't right then. But what if it was what his boyfriend needed? "I just... if you... do you need... closer?"

Enjolras exhaled a little, shakily, glad that he was permitted to stay. Staying was better. But at the prospect of being closer, his stomach lurched and the negatory was abrupt; "No." His breath caught in his throat, him immediately clutching at his legs again before he forced himself to physically relax. "No, it...I don't... I don't want to mess up. I can't mess up. You just... You won't even notice I'm here."

Grantaire let out a small, frustrated groan that he couldn't hold back. "I don't mind you being here. I don't mind noticing you're here." In fact, noticing Enjolras was there would... make it obvious that he felt comfortable and actually wanted to be there. With Grantaire. Which... was still something he did not understand. But it was nothing he was going to question in case Enjolras would come to his senses. "You won't mess up. If I notice you're around, you're not messing up, okay? I... like having you around. Even when we're..." He trailed off, making a vague noise, not knowing how to explain... this.

Enjolras 's nerves spiked at the groan, because they usually indicated that he'd fucked up. The words were contrary to what he expected, however, and his head shifted a little in surprise. "...Okay. Even when we're...what? ...Fighting? Is that what we did? I don't know what..."

Grantaire just nodded and shrugged at that, knowing that this was probably going to confuse Enjolras but... verbalizing what exactly he meant was hard and he had done so much of it already. It was exhausting. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I can't really... not right now. It's been... too much."

Enjolras nodded at Grantaire's words. "I know. It's a lot. I just... I don't know what I'm doing and that... I don't know how to do this. I'm sorry for pushing, if... I can go if you want me to. It's okay. I have the cats."

Grantaire shook his head. "Don't leave, please."

Enjolras 's breath hitched in his throat. "Okay. ...Tell me if I fuck up, though. All I need is to be told 'you fucked up' and I'll fix it. I need you to tell me if I fuck up or I'm going to think everything is fucked up."

Grantaire knew that he wasn't going to tell Enjolras if he 'fucked up' but he nodded anyway because he really did not want him to leave. "Stay."

Enjolras nodded but he still felt Wrong and off-kilter and like every decision he made would lead to a spectacularly fucked up situation. He couldn't help it; it'd been building and building for a while now and all he could do was just...nod. He needed to not fuck up. Not here. Not with Grantaire. If he fucked up with Grantaire he'd lose him, and he couldn't do that. If he lost him, he... His breath caught again and his hand came out unbidden, lightning-fast and gripped onto Grantaire's knee, his shoulders shaking and his eyes flashing with panic and oh fuck he'd fucked up hadn't he he'd put his hand out and that was a fuckup of excruciating proportions and what the fuck was he meant to do now if he took his hand back then that might fuck this up more and if he left it there it might be fucked up more and what the fuck was he meant to do here he couldn't do it he couldn't do it and he didn't realise that he was rocking slightly, gnawing at his lip again, but he yanked his hand back, slamming both hands down against the ground instead.

Enjolras nodded but he still felt Wrong and off-kilter and like every decision he made would lead to a spectacularly fucked up situation. He couldn't help it; it'd been building and building for a while now and all he could do was just...nod. He needed to not fuck up. Not here. Not with Grantaire. If he fucked up with Grantaire he'd lose him, and he couldn't do that. If he lost him, he... His breath caught again and his hand came out unbidden, lightning-fast and gripped onto Grantaire's knee, his shoulders shaking and his eyes flashing with panic and oh fuck he'd fucked up hadn't he he'd put his hand out and that was a fuckup of excruciating proportions and what the fuck was he meant to do now if he took his hand back then that might fuck this up more and if he left it there it might be fucked up more and what the fuck was he meant to do here he couldn't do it he couldn't do it and he didn't realise that he was rocking slightly, gnawing at his lip again, but he yanked his hand back, slamming both hands down against the ground instead.

Apollo's ears perked up and a low whine escaped him once Enjolras had started to be in distress. Grantaire on the other hand froze, not knowing what had caused this reaction. He had seen others in distress, hell, he had been in this situation many times before. Thinking back, he was wondering what he had said or done for Enjolras to react like this - but this was not that important right now. First, he needed to make sure that Enjolras was going to be okay. Which. Merde. He wondered if he'd be okay to touch his boyfriend - hands only since he had clung to his knee before turning to the ground. "Enjolras," he started, trying to get the other's attention. "Breathe with me." With that, he started slowly breathing in and out, loud enough for Enjolras to hear. His hand was hovering above Enjolras', unsure if he should offer the hand or not.

Enjolras was very much in distress, yes, this was something that was abundantly clear, and he didn't know why, which, y'know, made him even more distressed. Or what to do about it. This had happened before, though, he knew that this had happened before, and as he absently shifted back and forth, he worked his fingers against the ground, overwhelmed and more than a little anxious. He shook his head at the request, unsure if it was feasible at this particular juncture.

Grantaire kept on breathing the same way he had just started, while also adjusting his sitting position to a cross-legged one. Apollo quietly whined and Grantaire used one hand to pet his head to try and calm him down, too - knowing that it was easier for him to calm down the dog than an actual other human being. He cursed mentally because he knew that he had no water in the studio to offer to Enjolras after this moment was over. Though that was something that was not of importance right now. Except it was important. He should have had water there. Why didn't he think to bring water? Oh right, because alcohol had a higher priority for him. His mind was running on countless thoughts, none of which he was able to actually hold on to. What kind of a boyfriend was he? He obviously must've done something that caused this for Enjolras and now he couldn't even help him through this? Grantaire moved his hovering hand and set it down on the floor himself, close enough to Enjolras' hand that their fingers were slightly touching and, merde, what if this was something Enjolras didn't need?

Enjolras moved his hand away, but it was just out of being overwhelmed. Though that didn't necessarily mean that Grantaire knew that. His brain was screaming at him and there was kind of a Lot. Just-- Words weren't being good for him. Which, obviously, meant that he therefore couldn't verbalise this, so he just-- Still shifting back and forth just ever so slightly, and in jerking motions, he moved his hands from the ground up to grip at his shirt, pulling it tighter around himself, because even though he couldn't control how much of the world was falling apart, he could control how overwhelmed by it he had to be.

Grantaire bit his lip when Enjolras moved away. Okay. Okay, that had been a wrong move then. Curling his hand into a small fist, he inched away from the blonde, not knowing what to do, how to act or what to say. Not that he trusted his voice given that moment. Somehow he had fucked up big time and he didn't know how or why or what he could do to make this better. He shouldn't have asked for Enjolras to stay. He should've let him go when he had offered to go. Maybe he had misread what Enjolras had been trying to say. Maybe it had been Enjolras' subtle way of saying that he wanted to go. But, wouldn't he have just said so then? Grantaire was confused. And breathing was hard. So was thinking. Or talking. Everything. He needed wine. No, not wine. Wine was for slowly numbing himself. Brandy. Brandy was needed. It would help him just... forget this. All of this. Because whatever he had done or said, clearly had caused everything to get worse. And he had tried to open up, to be clear and upfront... Maybe that had been the mistake. Maybe it would have been better if he would've just fucking told Enjolras what he needed to hear. If this was what happened when he put himself first - which, he really should have known better - then maybe... He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It wasn't working. Once Enjolras calmed down, he'd speak to him. Make sure that he'd hear anything he needed to hear. He'd hold him close, if Enjolras so wished or would wave him goodbye if he wanted to go home. He could do this.

Enjolras didn't know what to do with Grantaire moving away. Had he-- What had he done? Tugging harder at his shirt, Enjolras turned wide eyes up towards his boyfriend, opening his mouth to speak and closing it again almost instantaneously. He'd fucked up, hadn't he? He'd fucked up. And the anxiety spiked again as he dropped his gaze, and he wanted to reach for him, but the need to hug himself was greater, so he didn't. He wanted to say something, but couldn't. He wanted to intervene, to make this not terrible, but it was terrible, so there was nothing he could do, and it was with that realisation that he just...sagged, putting his forehead to his knee as the world melted into static.

Grantaire wanted to support Enjolras, he really did but he couldn't. Not when he couldn't trust himself right now. Instead, he tried to get his breathing under control - which, when had that changed? But it felt like his throat had closed up and wasn't letting any air in - or out. Merde. It didn't help that this small voice in his mind was insisting that this was it. Enjolras was going to realize just how fucked up Grantaire was and that he wasn't good for him. Which, ironically, he could've told Enjolras from the start but he had let himself be blinded by the little hope he had had and now he had to deal with this. He could feel tears prickling, threatening to spill and he forced his eyes to close, fighting not to let the tears fall. He was not going to make this worse.

Enjolras laughed. The world was static, and the laughter was slightly hysterical in its tiny noises, kind of hiccupy in places, and his hands were pushing and pulling at his shirt, around his side, and he just...couldn't help it.

Grantaire barely heard the noise coming from Enjolras. His mind was buzzing too much and he wasn't sure anymore which sounds were real and which ones were coming from inside his head. He cursed quietly when he noticed the wetness on his cheeks - when had that happened?

Enjolras was getting exhausted. The world was everywhere and wrong and off-kilter and loud and he wanted to go away now. But he didn't. There was no getting away from the world, there was only shutting down. There was just so much, and it was all at once and he didn't know how to deal with the static, so he lifted his head, having stopped laughing. But Grantaire was crying. That wasn't good. Enjolras shuffled over, and sat next to him, and brought his hand up, and put it in Grantaire's hair, and sighed, and scritched the scalp in silence.

Grantaire tensed the moment he felt the hand in his hair, but only for a moment, not having expected the touch. Once he noticed what it was - a hand, Enjolras' hand - he let out a small sigh, once again confused as to what he was supposed to be doing. Was Enjolras better? Could he just let Enjolras take care of him now when he had not just promised himself to be giving Enjolras what he needed? A small whine escaped him, not unlike Apollo's earlier. Apollo who still wasn't insecure himself. Before he knew it, one of his hands went up to curl around Enjolras' wrist - not to remove his hand from his head but just for the touch itself.

Enjolras hesitated, just a little, at the hand around his wrist, before he realised that it wasn't removing his hand but rather holding it there, and recognised it for what it was, and continued. His expression was nonexistent, and he said nothing, but he continued to scritch the scalp, repetitive little circles that served just as much to comfort Grantaire as to relax himself.

Grantaire let out another small sigh, noticing that his breathing started to slow down. The thoughts in his mind were still running on high alert but that he could deal with after the pressure behind his forehead would be gone. Once his breathing had slowed down to a manageable level, he tried to get the thoughts in his mind to quieten down, fully knowing that they wouldn't. "I'm sorry." His voice was almost inaudible and sounded scratchy but he felt the need to force his voice into forming those words.

Enjolras continued to scritch the scalp of Grantaire, and shook his head. "Okay," he forced out, almost immediately frowning and adding on, "It." He sighed, scowled, and, frustrated with himself, put his forehead on his knee. Why now with the words not doing the word thing. Exhaustion and a lot and static. "...Sorry."

Grantaire shook his head slightly, a small, empty chuckle escaping him. "You've nothing to... apologize for." He croaked. After all, he had been the one to fuck up, not Enjolras. He let himself lean forward slightly, feeling that he did need the closeness now but not daring to impose on Enjolras' personal space.

Enjolras shook his head again, and leaned in towards Grantaire, pressing their sides together as he continued to rub tiny circles into his hair. "Lost control. Sorry." At least he wasn't running for the hills...right?

Grantaire closed his eyes, again, as he soaked in the warmth radiating from Enjolras' body. "Same."

Enjolras let out another, smaller huff of laughter, having exhausted his filtration resources, and expanded the circles into tiny spirals. "Today's a lot."

Grantaire nodded slowly. "Yeah." He agreed, not even attempting to say anything else. He was exhausted. He hadn't had enough sleep in the first place and this had just tired him out even more.

Enjolras nodded too. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Grantaire opened his eyes to try and look at him. "I know," he replied. "This would've happened even with you not having been here, " Grantaire admitted, "So don't worry."

Enjolras laughed again, not really sure what it was about the situation that made it funny, probably the ridiculousness, and he shuffled slightly closer, keeping on doing the scalp/hair-rubbing thing. "I always worry. Miss you."

Grantaire curled his lips into a half-hearted smile himself. "Me too. Always." With another sigh, he inched closer himself while low-key wondering what he was supposed to be doing with his hands.

Enjolras was reluctant to stop doing the hair thing, but did hold his other hand out, wordlessly asking if he'd be okay with holding hands.

Grantaire did not hesitate to take the offered hand and squeezed it slightly.

Enjolras squeezed back, letting out a quiet noise, kind of a humming but also not really, too abrupt and staccato for that. It wasn't displeased, though, it was just...there, and he put his forehead to Grantaire's temple.

Enjolras cocked his head, approaching more before electing to simply put his arms around R's waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I'm glad you're getting into it. What are those colours for?"

Grantaire set the brush down for a short moment, leaning back against his boyfriend before turning his head to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't get used to it. I still don't believe that any of this is going to make a real change." His words were spoken softly, hoping that Enjolras would notice that he was not out for confrontation. Not today. "I have been told that these colors," he pointed at the pink and yellow that were already on his face and nodded down to the blue that was going to be added after, "represent something called pansexuality. Simply said it means I am attracted to whoever I am attracted to, no matter their gender, sex or identity." When he finished explaining, he shrugged and ducked his head slightly before picking his brush up again to continue his work.

Enjolras did not confront R today, choosing instead to exhale. They had their differences of opinion, even after all this time, but yelling at him wasn't the way to convince him he was wrong. So he didn't. Not today. "-- There's a word for that? Good. That's good. It's nice to know there's a word for things." Still with his arms wrapped around Grantaire's midriff, he watched him work.

Grantaire did not hide the surprise that he felt when Enjolras decided not to comment on what he said first. He rinsed the brush and dabbed it on a tissue to get rid of the excess of water before dipping the brush into the blue color, not at all being bothered by the fact that his boyfriend's arms were still wrapped around him. "It is interesting just how many new words there are," Grantaire replied, "But yes, it is nice to have a word to define you instead of having to explain it over and over again." He finished with the blue, cleaning the brush again from the color and setting it down before twisting around to face Enjolras. He still wasn't done with his face but that could wait. "Do you want anything painted on you?"

Enjolras continued to watch Grantaire work, pleased to be in this situation. "I'm glad that you've found your words, mon amour. It's one of the more pleasant things about this time." The question surprised him, though, because he'd actually managed to forget that he had a reason for coming in here. His eyes were wide. Like a deer. "Oh-- Right, that was why I came in here. It's difficult to be aggressively gay when your rainbow has removed itself from your face."

Grantaire smiled softly and nodded in agreement before his lips curled into a proper, amused grin. "Aggressively gay?" He repeated, amusement coloring his voice. "I can promise you that what I will paint, will not 'remove itself' from your face unless you want it gone." There wasn't a lot that Grantaire prided himself on but using the right body paint? That was one thing he knew. "Do you just want a flag on your cheek or anything else?" He asked while nodding over to the portfolio that was propped up on his table. "I can do any of these or anything else."

Enjolras nodded firmly. Aggressively gay. That was the aim, and the attainment. Yes. At the next question, however, Enjolras cocked his head, pausing and not looking at the portfolio, but not looking at Grantaire's eyes either. Perhaps...yes. Disengaging from the arms of his boyfriend, Enjolras untied the flag he wore as a cape, and removed his shirt deliberately, folding both and setting them down as he jutted his jaw and held his hands out splayed to his sides as he met and held Grantaire's gaze very Deliberately. "I trust you with this, implicitly, and am proud of you. So, I believe as it is frequently misquoted from a movie, paint me like one of your French boys."

Grantaire tilted his head slightly when Enjolras started taking off the flag. It made sense to take it off, Grantaire supposed - but before he could finish the thought process, he noticed that his boyfriend started to take off his shirt, too and that... well, alright, he could deal with that. His eyes had widened slightly and for a short moment, he let his gaze wander a bit before shaking his head slightly. Not only was this a public space but if the person in front of him would have been anybody else, he wouldn't let this happen either. He could do this. Clearing his throat, he just nodded - not trusting his voice - before turning around to gather his supplies. Mon dieu, he hoped that it wasn't apparent that his cheeks where flushed. Grabbing the brushes he planned to use, he turned back around to face Enjolras - and whilst doing so, he almost knocked the cup of water off the table. Sending a small, almost embarrassed smile Enjolras' direction, he let his eyes wander again - but this time, he was in full artist mode. Scanning the skin that was available to him, he froze when he noticed the scars on Enjolras' body. Eight of them. Scattered over his upper body. For a moment, Grantaire needed to close his eyes, knowing exactly what they were. Bullet holes. Ignoring the echoing sound of guns in his ears, he started to map out in his mind just how he would paint the canvas in front of him, trying not to pay too close attention to the scars. He hummed quietly, nodding to himself once an idea had formed. Grabbing his color palette and adding the rainbow colors on it. "I'm going to start with your face," he explained, his voice having slipped into a professional tone, "I am thinking of painting rainbows right here," he said, using a clean brush to softly indicate where he meant: just below Enjolras' eyes. Looking down at the colors on the palette and back to Enjolras' face, he hummed again. "Do you mind glitter?"

Enjolras stood still as he waited for Grantaire to decide what he would do, a little confused by the lack of actually saying anything, but then the contents of the cup almost went everywhere, and Enjolras offered a returning smile, exhaling with the knowledge that this was okay. Good. He knew where Grantaire's eyes were drawn to, but he kept his chin up as he nodded, regarding R with confidence. "That sounds good. I trust you with this. Implicitly. Also, I am very much in favour of glitter. It gets everywhere and is difficult to ignore."

Grantaire averted his eyes for a moment, not being able to look at Enjolras when he so openly put the trust in him. It was such a polar opposite of anything that he had been used to before... Grantaire shook his head again. This was not the time, today was a happy day. He could do happy. With a smirk on his lips, he winked at Enjolras, "So what you're saying is that glitter and you are one and the same." He teased before taking the glitter and adding it to the color on his palette. Once he was satisfied with the glitter/paint ration, he stepped closer to Enjolras. "If you could please look up while I'm painting, that would be a great help." He said, waiting for his boyfriend to do as he said.

Enjolras nodded in return, utterly unabashed. "-- Precisely. Glitter and I are very similar in personality. Thank you for noticing." He did as bade, turning his eyes skyward and holding still. Very still. He'd been compared to marble before, and now the comparison was apt indeed.

Grantaire shook his head and laughed softly. "You are one very strange man, mon chéri." While he spoke, he had dipped the brush into the blue glitter color and painted the first stripe from the eye down until just below the cheekbone before moving onto the other side, repeating the motion. "I might just start calling you Glitter from now on," Grantaire teased, not wanting to just stand in silence while he painted. Cleaning the brush, he moved onto the green color and adding the next stripe which was about an inch longer than the blue stripe. He continued painting the rainbows on Enjolras' face, the stripes painted on to create a slight downward curve on each cheek. Once he finished, he set the paint aside, rubbing his neck. "I'm not completely done yet but you can take a look into the mirror and let me know if you like what I've done so far?"

Enjolras smiled a little, but tried not to move his face too much, something which he was rather adept at, honestly. "At least Glitter is one of your more sensical nicknames, mon amour. I'll allow it." When instructed, Enjolras looked in the mirror, and nodded. "Yes. Yes. You're very good at this, R, I like it."

Grantaire ducked his head at the compliment. "I'm glad," he mumbled, not expecting Enjolras to hear the words. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face his boyfriend again. "How do you feel about color on your lips, my beloved Glitter?"

Enjolras tilted his head at the question, considering it. "-- I'm willing to try it. Like I said, I have every faith in you."

Grantaire swallowed down the insecurity that threatened to spill out of him and instead he focused on the task at hand - meaning, getting the lip colour ready. His boyfriend wanted to look Aggressively Gay, so Grantaire would help him. Switching the brush to a lip brush, Grantaire got the lip colors needed and the glitter ready to apply after. "Alright," he started, "could you please part your lips slightly?"

Enjolras did as bade, with a degree of Enjolraic Intensity™ that only he was capable of.

Grantaire felt the heat in his cheeks again and wetted his lip while he tried to concentrate on just applying the color instead of noticing just how intimate this felt.

Enjolras exhaled as his heart pounded, keeping his eyes on his boyfriend as he painted his lips.

Grantaire dug his teeth into his bottom lip in concentration as he finished applying the color. He ignored the growing urge to just lean forward and kiss Enjolras and instead sprinkled the glitter on the lips. Turning to get a tissue, he offered it to him. "This is to get excess color and glitter of the lips, you just need to shortly press your lips on it and it should be all set."

Enjolras looked at the tissue. Back at Grantaire. Instead of doing that, he simply pressed a chaste kiss to Grantaire's own lips in lieu of putting the tissue to his mouth. "How's that?"

Grantaire couldn't hide the small, pleased grin at the action. "I don't think it was enough pressure," he replied easily, the mischief clear in his eyes.

Enjolras smiled, and obliged, pressing a second, more confident, yet still chaste smooch to Grantaire's lips. "Better?"

Grantaire hummed and nodded. "If I was cheeky, I'd say no but I don't want you to lose all the color of your lips already." With only a short hesitation, he lifted his hand up to cup Enjolras' jaw and leaned over close enough so that their lips almost touched again. "So for now, I'll put a ban on more kisses." He stayed this close for another second, teasing, before pulling away to turn and get a bigger brush to get started on the upper body.

Enjolras blinked. Wait. What just happened? He was left with the distinct impression that his boyfriend was a very rude individual, and exhaled, clearing his throat and electing to say nothing in favour of folding his arms-- When he then realised that that wasn't a good course of action with the paint around and, frowning, he tried to figure out what to do with his hands while Grantaire worked. "Hm," quoth he, eloquent as ever and with pink cheeks. The fuck was he meant to do with his hands if he couldn't put them in folded arms? Uh. For now he'd settle for clasping them behind his back, holding still save for some mild fidgeting. Okay. Okay, this was fine. This was doable. Damnit, who'd've thought that asking his boyfriend to paint him would lead to flusteredness?

Grantaire hadn't noticed any of the inner turmoil of his boyfriend and had instead switched his color palette out for small tubs instead - as he needed them for the rest of the painting. When he turned to look at Enjolras again, he couldn't help but smirk at the blush that was clearly visible underneath the paint. So he wasn't the only one affected by this. Good. "Let's do this," Grantaire said, more to himself, as he stepped close to Enjolras again. "This might take a bit of time," he said honestly, "but I can promise you, you'll definitely look like a walking rainbow flag when I'm done."

Enjolras nodded, but did shift a little, moving his fingertips around his hands in smooth motions. "Okay. Nothing on my sides, though, I won't move but I can't promise that if you touch my sides. So, unless you want me to mess up your work, do not touch my sides, okay?"

Grantaire nodded and filed the information away for later, in case he needed it for teasing. "Nothing on your sensible sides, got it." And with that, he started working with the slightly more liquified colors to create a look of the colors running down Enjolras' body. Grantaire hoped for the end product to look like melted colors swirling together to make Enjolras' front look like a storm of rainbow color. Working on the body, he hadn't quite paid attention as to where exactly he put the globs of liquid color for it to run down his boyfriend's chest but when he stepped back to get more color, he realized that he had used the scars as starting points. To anyone who didn't know that Enjolras had scars there - and even more important what those scars were - it wouldn't be too obvious but to him it looked like wherever a bullet had pierced his love's skin, a different color of the rainbow had been bleeding out. It was morbidly beautiful and haunting.

Enjolras Knew. He knew the locations of his scars like the back of his hand, knew precisely where he'd been shot and how many times and how it had felt. So...yeah. He knew what Grantaire was doing, even if he didn't, and his hands tightened around each other as he turned his eyes skyward once more. It felt nice to be painted on. It did. But suddenly he couldn't help but feel excruciatingly vulnerable here and now.

Grantaire noticed the slight tension in Enjolras, so he decided to finish it up as quickly as possible and once he was done, he leaned forward to place a quick kiss on Enjolras' cheek - just below the rainbow painting. "Only your back is left now, mon ange. Do you have more patience or do you want to just leave it at this?" If he was being honest, he was nervous as to what Enjolras would say. While the painting had not been intentional, he was worried that he might've crossed a line that he shouldn't have touched by a mile.

Enjolras leaned into the cheek kiss, brief as it was, and closed his eyes, his brows slightly furrowed as he thought about it. "I am not a patient person, R...but stillness, I can do." A nod, and he turned around, now clasping his hands in front of himself, though his shoulders were tense. "I trust you."

Grantaire cleared his throat to cover up that his breath hitched. Just how many times would Enjolras tell him that he trusted him? And just how many more times would it take for him not to feel overwhelmed at the thought alone? "I won't betray your trust," Grantaire replied quietly, switching back to the color palette. "After all, you are the only one I believe in. This is something that has not changed." With that, he started to paint on the back - this time using black first as an outline. The plan was to paint rainbow colored wings that covered half of Enjolras' back - to make him look like an avenging angel. Which was something that he would not say out loud.

Enjolras 's frown did not dissipate as Grantaire worked. "I..." an exhale. "I still think that you should believe in yourself more than you believe in me."

Grantaire surprisingly did not stop painting and just kept going, finishing the outline. "There is no reason for me to believe in myself," he said casually, shrugging slightly before stepping away to clean the brush and give the outline some drying time before he continued. "But you should not focus on what I believe in or not, mon amour. There are more important things that need your attention, I'm sure."

Enjolras turned when Grantaire dismissed what needed his attention, still frowning, and strode over, fixing him with an Enjolraic Expression. "Grantaire. You do not get to decide what it is that I choose to have my attention on. I care for you. It is a different way of caring than the sort involving fundraising and fighting, but I care for you nonetheless. Yes, I believe in you. But I also try to believe in myself, because if I don't, then why would I keep going? I love you, I am willing to go to jail with you, but you cannot make me the only one that you believe in. It isn't fair to either of us. We don't have to talk about this, but...please...at least think about it."

Grantaire stoically avoided looking at Enjolras when he came over. Right now, he almost wished that they would've gotten into an argument earlier. That would've been more pleasant than... this. Despite him trying, he couldn't completely fight off the self-deprecating laugh. "You're right, we don't have to talk about this." Was all he said. Because talking about how he viewed himself? That was something so far down on his list of priorities. "Can you please turn around again?" He asked, feeling relieved that he could hide behind Enjolras' back and his painting.

Enjolras swallowed. Yeah. He'd fucked up. So, he did as bade, and turned around, biting the inside of his lip and clasped his hands in front of himself again, pushing his thumb over his knuckles rhythmically.

Grantaire sighed softly as he got back to painting. He carefully filled out every single feather in a different color, ensuring that it looked just like he had imagined. After a minute of silence, he started to feel uncomfortable. Silence was something that he did not prefer. "Tell me about your plans for the day?" He asked, quietly, carefully.

Enjolras stood. Not expecting to be Engaged again, he turned his head to the side at the question, not enough to look at him, but enough to clearly have reacted to it. Slowly, and still pushing at his knuckles, he responded with careful words; "I have a petition. It's...to indicate public support for a more directed and applicable support system for LGBTQ youth in the area who do not have the ability to openly get the help that they need. I'm getting signatures. It's not a lot, but...it's a start. What about you?"

Grantaire hummed to acknowledge that he had heard. It didn't come as a surprise that Enjolras had found another cause that he believed in. That was something that would probably never change about him and - Grantaire wouldn't want to have him any other way but... "A petition? There surely must be another way. The higher-ups couldn't care less about a piece of paper with names on them. They'll have a laugh and toss the paper into the bin." Grantaire shrugged just as he finished up coloring the wings in. "I'm probably just going to stay here all day and go for some drinks tonight."

Enjolras didn't know what he'd expected. Hurt bubbled hot in his chest beneath the bullet scars, his jaw clenching, but he forced it down, forced himself not to argue with Grantaire on this. Not today. Instead he waited for the ministrations on his back to be done, and he scooped up the flag and shirt that he'd set down, tying the shirt into his belt loop and clutching the flag in his hands. Only then, safe with a flag-shaped barrier in his hands did he turn, and meet Grantaire's gaze. "The other way is with blood, Grantaire. I have to try, and...if it fails, I'll try again. And I'll keep trying. You know this. I'm not asking you to do the same. I'm just asking you to respect that this is something I have to do. So please, don't shit on my decisions. I try not to shit on yours. Thank you for the paint, it's beautiful. I'll see you later, Grantaire. Remember to hydrate yourself." And turning once more, exit stage right.

Grantaire flushed slightly at Bahorel's words and he tried to punch him against his arm but his strength was not really there so he just... did not. "Do not feel left out, there is room enough for you, too." He said as he patted his chest above where his heart was. Stumbling into the living room, he glanced at Enjolras. "You should take a break and bestow your lovely presence upon us."

Bahorel grinned at Grantaire and let himself bump into him as he walked, a chin tucked against his shoulder and a sloppy kiss brushed over what he could reach before he was quite literally invading Enjolras' personal space, sliding to half drape over the arm of the couch and half sprawl on the floor, limbs thrown to rest on Enjolras. "I've returned! I bring gifts! Gifts of good company and good drink. Join us, mon ami!" He slid slightly off the couch, his head now resting on Enjolras' shoulder against the end of his curls

Enjolras could smell alcohol, but frankly, that was nothing new and the smell didn't really bother him too much. So, when there was a presence on his shoulder and limbs across his person, he naturally assumed it was Grantaire and continued to work until he reached an appropriate stopping point, whereupon he finally closed the laptop and looked up. And stopped short, in surprise. "You're not Grantaire." He squinted, pulling back a little to consider the other, looking up at Grantaire, then back down at who he now realised to be Bahorel. "Oh. You're back."

Grantaire laughed at Enjolras' confusion. "Mon ami," he started, glancing at Bahorel before letting himself flop down next to Enjolras and letting his own head drop onto his other shoulder. "It seems as if we were both wrong. Enjolras has not simply forgotten to mention your return, he has not even realized it. Now that is a new level on the Enjolras-meter that I had not thought of yet." Reaching with his hand across of Enjolras, he patted whichever part he could reach of Bahorel, "But fret not, mon ami, I have noticed your return. Very much so."

Bahorel proceeded to pout nonetheless and pressed a tight lipped kiss to the small circle of skin behind Enjolras ear, one long arm reached around to fall on Grantaire. "Enjolras has no time for his roommate!" It's spoken very grandly, and also, very drunkenly, "--only work! Mon ami, I have missed you, your eagle eye concentration, for all that it leads to this. Worry not though, what pain you might have inflicted has been soothed by R, may your wine be plentiful and your laugh jolly."

Enjolras cocked his head, considering the two revolutionaries draped across him, and settled back, aware that this was his fate. They were both drunk. This was fine. "...I have missed you too?" He turned his head to kiss Grantaire's forehead, then turned to kiss Bahorel's also, his hands still upon his laptop due to having just been using it. "What's happening?"

Grantaire turned his head to press a kiss onto Enjolras' neck before grinning at him. "Drinking is happening. Join us. Take a break. Celebrate! For our lost ami has returned to us!"

Bahorel laughed at the other two, his head thrown back to press against Enjolras even as he moved to stand, he shook, barely and grinned down at the other two, suddenly, even more aware of his own height. "I have wine, I'll get the glasses and pour, put your work away, I doubt you'll get back to it tonight." With that he dropped a lingering kiss to both of their foreheads and moved to the kitchen.

Enjolras blinked, still somewhat confused, and obediently put his laptop beneath the coffee table, alongside the various notepads and work stuff before he sat back against Grantaire, taking his hand in his own due primarily to that being his natural state of being. "What ​day​ is it?"

Grantaire linked his fingers with Enjolras' and just fondly shook his head. "Wednesday. It has been a while since I saw your handsome face, you need to learn to not let yourself be completely absorbed with your work. I miss seeing you ​and​ having your attention."

Bahorel returned triumphant with drinks and kisses pressed to the top of their heads, blond and brunette, before he passed off the glasses. "Cherry wine, mon amis, I hear it's something of a delicacy." He pressed himself to Enjolras side, a leg kicked out to lay over Grantaire's own. "Together again."

Enjolras was sandwiched between the two, but found little in this circumstance to complain about. "I cannot say I know what is happening, but alright."

Grantaire took the glass with his free hand and tried to sit up slightly, all the while balancing the glass and not letting go of Enjolras' hand. "I am looking forward to trying this delicacy," he said as he raised his glass to not only look at the wine but also clink glasses with the other two. "Just join in. Drink to us being reunited."

Bahorel tapped his glass against Grantaires and grinned at Enjolras, loose limbed and warm, both from drink and the company of good friends. "Drink. Be merry. We have eachother and all is well, think, for tonight, on nothing but joy. What's happening mon ami, is friendship." He took a drink from his glass.

Enjolras sniffed at the wine, a little...not ​nervous​ or anything, just...nervous. What? He wasn't a drinker. "I'm not sure we have the same definitions of friendship. But, if that is what it is to you, very well. I suppose..." He took a little sip. Itty bitty. Teeny weenie. It was a very smol sip. It tasted weird. He wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Grantaire took a drink of his own glass, letting the liquid settle on his tongue before swallowing it. "This was a very good choice," he commented, deciding to merely hide his amusement about the 'friendship' commentary. "I like the full-fruit flavor of it." He turned to look at Enjolras. "This should not be considered a sip of the wine. Try more."

Bahorel laughed, "perhaps not friendship then, what's happening now is, camaraderie. Caring. Call it what you will, but we all know the feelings we have." He licked his lips and let the taste linger on his tongue, "drink Mon Ami, in time it will taste less like vinegar and more like the cherries we know it to be."

Enjolras exhaled, furrowing his brow as he smelled the wine again. "Life would be so much simpler if people just said what they thought and felt." Still, he did as bade, and tried a little more, this time actually lifting the glass to take an actual sip instead of just dipping his tongue into it. And yet, he made a face. Alcohol was weird.

Grantaire nodded and took another sip. "Being upfront would have saved us a few headaches, wouldn't it?" He commented before leaning over and nudging his nose against Enjolras' cheek. "You'll get used to the taste, just as Bahorel said."

Bahorel looked at Enjolras first, then leaned over to see R fully before he sat back, the tight line of his shoulders relaxing as he took another swallow of the wine. "I desire both of you romantically to be honest with you, as I mean, why not? Times have changed, the taboo is no longer a concern of mine." It was said casually, though he didn't quite look at either of them

Enjolras stopped. Then he placed his glass upon the coffee table, pressed a reassuring kiss to the back of Grantaire's hand, turned towards Bahorel, placed his newly-free hand upon the side of the bearded man's neck, and pressed a firm kiss to his lips as he squeezed Grantaire's hand.

Grantaire returned the squeeze of the hand and watched as Enjolras kissed Bahorel. It felt as if a weight that he had not been aware of was lifted off his shoulders. Setting his own glass down, he leaned over and let his hand run through Bahorel's hair. "It seems like Enjolras is not opposed and neither am I."

Bahorel lay his hand on Enjolras face and tilted his chin, deepening the kiss, letting the other taste the wine on his tongue. Still, he pressed forward, laid his hand on Grantaire's arm before withdrawing, "there is a circle here we must not let break. It's only fair to keep it even." He pressed a kiss to Grantaire's arm and smiled at the both. "No one opposes then?"

Enjolras was very pleased, yes. The wine tasted marginally better in the mouth of someone else. "Nobody opposes. We should still discuss this, however." A pause. "When you both have become sober. You're both drunk."

Grantaire shook his head. "Certainly not opposing." Glancing at Enjolras, he kissed him on the cheek before leaning over him to press a short kiss on Bahorel's lips. "I may be drunk but my mind is still functioning normally."

Bahorel hummed into the kiss before pulling back, "I'm very drunk. However, I've wanted this sober for weeks upon weeks, that has not changed in the last few hours." He pressed as close to the both of them as he comfortably could. "I have missed you both dearly."

Enjolras leaned upon Bahorel and pulled Grantaire close to his chest. "You're both still drunk. You may think this is a good idea now, but that does not mean you'll feel the same way when you sober up."

Grantaire easily leaned into Enjolras and shrugged. "I do not think that the feeling is going to change. For me, it also has been building up for a while. But if it makes you feel more at ease, we will speak about this tomorrow. After all, the feelings will not have changed, so we should not worry."

Bahorel smiled into the blond of Enjolras hair and reached past to lay a hand on Grantaire, "we shall speak of it tomorrow over breakfast, speaking for myself I'll say it's been too long a thing I've lived with for it to suddenly fade now that I might have it. It took a while but this, here, this is a proper homecoming."

Enjolras let out a little hum as he leaned into both of them. Yes. This was good. "Thank you, I appreciate this. Tomorrow, when sobriety is a thing. For now, however, I must ask...how long have you been back? Did you know about this? How did I not notice?"

Grantaire shook his head in amusement. "I found out about this when he decided to text me. I had not known before." While he spoke, he had leaned forward to try and reach his glass again.

Bahorel snorted, and shook his head, his eyes rolled and he took another swallow of his wine. "I've been back a week oh grand leader, a week in which I thought you'd told R I was back. Did you expect your dishes washed themselves?"

Enjolras blinked. A week? "...There are dishes?"

Grantaire laughed and took another sip of his wine. After all, they said they would be sober ​tomorrow​ . "You are unbelievable." He said with fondness.

Bahorel leaned forward to kiss his hair, voice almost unbearably fond, "were. There ​ were ​ dishes. And food to go on them. And drinks to go with them." He leaned to address Grantaire, "you see what I live with?"

Enjolras was kissed and pressed his thumb lightly against the back of Grantaire's hand, tracing absent patterns. "A lot has been happening. Dishes and food and drinks are secondary." Still, he held his humans closer, pleased at the proximity.

Grantaire chuckled. "At least he has someone to remind him to eat and stay hydrated," he said fondly. "I could think of worse people to share an apartment with." He let his own thumb trace along Enjolras' skin. "I do thank you for taking care of the dishes though. Eventually, I would have come by and done them but I have to admit, I, myself, have been a bit soaked into painting and drawing these days."

Bahorel he mock lamented to himself, head tilted toward the heavens, "why this? I care for two plants hiding as people, they must be watered and fed and given sunlight, one must be given a steady diet of alcohol the other must be reminded to drink at all."

Enjolras yawned a little, and wrapped himself around both of them. "You have become our responsible adult, petit croissant."

Grantaire smirked. "You still have the choice to get out of this. Think about it. If you agree to this, you will have to be the responsible one out of us." Which to be fair. Even if he would decide against it, he'd still have to deal with being the responsible one between them. "It will be a lot of work."

Bahorel rolled his eyes in the most obnoxious way possible, eyelids fluttering. "I am the responsible one regardless, I am also the oldest, I must look after mon petites. There is nothing to rethink."

Enjolras stretched, content in his wrappings of human. Good. "You are both good. I am very glad to have you both in my life."

Grantaire hummed. "Good. Same." Another sip of wine. Curling closer to the warmth. "This is good," he repeated.

Bahorel closed his eyes, "It's good to be back."

Enjolras nodded against his humans. "I can't say I'm too fond of the wine, though. It tasted like pickled cherries."

Grantaire growled lightly at that. "Heathen," he mumbled before drinking more of the wine. "I guess it means there is going to be more of it for the rest of us then."

Bahorel laughed, "don't let him lie to you. That's precisely what it is, old picked cherry juice."

Enjolras made a face. "Pickled cherry juice that has been left to go sour."

Grantaire huffed as he downed the rest of his glass. "More for me then." A small, traitorous smile curled his lips up before he set his now empty glass back down. "With that, you have just revoked your right to any more wine in my company, mon croissant."

Bahorel laughed, "a pity! Alas! What a shame, oh no, how will I ever live with the horror?...I prefer rum mon petit. Enjolras will find what he prefers one day. Leave him to his water for now."

Enjolras was unabashed at the reaction of Grantaire, not particularly minding how he was no longer allowed wine in his company (actually more pleased at the thought than anything else). "I knew there was a reason I liked you." He smushed his face between the two.

Grantaire dramatically gasped at the reactions. He turned to his, sadly, empty wine glass and spoke, "Do not fret, mon amour. They just do not understand our love but yet, I will keep loving you. If no one but us understands our love, then so be it."

Bahorel groaned, long and loud, head tilted back against the arm rest, eyes closed, "you were meant for the stage, clearly, such drama is befitting only of the theatre. You forget mon petit, I delivered your love to your arms, do I get no thanks?" He turned to Enjolras and smiled, "leave him to his glass, we have eachother."

Enjolras raised his head, frowning as he looked between the two. "I thought we had already discussed this."

Grantaire stayed in his made up personality and sighed just as dramatically. "This is it? You are not even going to fight for me? Oh, how I feel betrayed. My heart can not take it." He stopped himself, turning back to face Bahorel. "It is my arms that you love? What about the rest of me?" Okay. Okay. He needed to stop. He couldn't take the confusion on Enjolras' face. "I am joking. Mainly." He clarified as he brushed his lips against the blonde's cheek.

Bahorel rolled his eyes once again, something he'd do quite often he was sure, and smiled at them, something he was equally sure would happen just as often if not more so, "the man kids only we're around to see it, watch us come home to him holding a bottle of wine to his chest fast asleep."

Enjolras put his head back down, tracing circles on the back of Grantaire's hand. "Hm...thank you. Bahorel, would you believe Grantaire will not allow me to punch bigots?"

Grantaire chuckled and rolled his eyes. "It would not be for the first time," he shrugged, remembering the times that he had awoken with a bottle of wine in his arms. Turning to Enjolras, he raised his eyebrow. "Are you still complaining about this?"

Bahorel turned to look at R, shocked, "why would you stop him? Bigots deserve all that come to them by the way of a man's fist. Surely, if Enjolras were angry enough to strike the person than they must have done some heinous deed. Let him bruise his knuckles on the face of another, it only hurts the two. Are you not an artist? The rendering of such a moment must be a glorious thing, such an opportunty should not be passed up." He turned to Enjolras then, a smile on his face, "There will be other chances mon petit, and there will be times when I am there in his stead, not only will I allow you to but I shall endeaver to help you as best I can."

Enjolras pressed a kiss to Grantaire's cheek before putting his face on Bahorel. "Thank you. Bigots deserve to be punched. It's important and somebody has to do it."

Grantaire rolled his eyes and turned to his empty glass. "The one time I try to be responsible, it comes and bites me back." A heavy sigh escaped him. "I'm too drunk for this discussion. I'm not going to bail either of you out of jail if you punch the wrong person."

Bahorel passed his quarter full glass to Grantaire. "It's good then, that I have money in the coffee table for just such an occasion, laws have certainly changed. Enjolras is correct. It's a noble calling to punch bigots."

Enjolras yawned again, and wrapped himself around the others. "I would gladly go to jail with both of you. Situation willing, of course."

Grantaire smiled fondly at Enjolras. "I'd also go to jail with you two given the right circumstances." With a sigh, he let himself sink into the warmth. "I'm not going to have that discussion. Not now." And this is why he like wine. Wine was uncomplicated. Wine was just there. Wine was warm. Warm like these two. And warm was good.

Bahorel settled against them, the warmth lulling him into a state of relaxation, "I would make the same such assurances but I'm almost certain it'd be my fault we're in jail."

Enjolras was mumbling now, against the two. "What discussion?"

Grantaire shook his head. "Don't you worry. You should sleep."

Grantaire had been in the apartment, as he did rather often nowadays, waiting for either Bahorel or Enjolras to come home. Apollo was curled up, asleep for once, on the floor next to the couch when Grantaire heard the door open. Seeing Enjolras come in with the bulky chair, he immediately got up and walked over to the blonde. " ​ Salut. Why didn't you let me know you were going to carry something in here? Let me take it from here. ​ " Grantaire said as he moved to take the chair from the other.

Enjolras noted the dog and prepared himself for the inevitable sneezing that would occur, but put those thoughts from his mind as he nodded in greeting at Grantaire, generally unfazed by his presence here. ​"No, I can carry it. I do have functional arms, after all."​ There was no malice to the statement, just a simple purposeful kind of manner about it as he continued to carry the chair.

Grantaire raised his eyebrow at Enjolras. "​I do not doubt that you have funcional arms but I do believe that I can be of assistance and take it from here. I would not want you to be in pain later on and regret carrying it all by yourself.​" He insisted, his hands moving to properly grip the chair but not quite taking it out of Enjolras' hands.

Enjolras 's brow furrowed. He did not relinquish the chair, turning his gaze upon Grantaire, meeting his eyes with a stubborn passion. For carrying chairs. ​"I am more than capable of carrying this chair, Grantaire. It is not heavy."​

Grantaire let out a small huff which was more like a sigh. "​You should not be carrying this, Enjolras. I know how stubborn you can get. You do not need to carry this, I can perfectly take it for you.​" His hands stayed on the chair as he glanced back at the blonde, just as stubborn as the other.

Enjolras 's eyes flickered in realisation. It was not that Grantaire wanted to carry the chair. It was that he did not think him, Enjolras, capable of doing so. His eyes narrowed. ​"You realise I've carried this all the way from the shop, of course. It is not heavy, and I am perfectly capable of carrying it."

Grantaire resisted to roll his eyes. "​Which is also something you should not have done. If you would have told me that you were going to get this, I would have come with you and carried it for you. You are only going to end up hurting yourself.​" He could only imagine how Enjolras had dragged the chair from the store to the apartment and while the chair was almost where it was supposed to be, Grantaire at least wanted to take the weight from him for that short distance. "​Please, let me take it from here.​"

Enjolras 's eyes narrowed even further, and without breaking eye contact with Grantaire, he set the chair down, very deliberately, upon the man's foot. ​"You insult me."

Grantaire winced when he felt the chair on his foot and lifted it up again so that he could remove his foot. "​Was that ​really​ necessary?​" He grumbled. "​I did not mean to insult you. I merely offered my help so that you would not end up in pain.​" With that, he sent a challenging look at the blonde. "​We would not want your delicate arms to be useless for a while because you lifted the chair wrong.​"

Enjolras glared/stared at Grantaire for a long second. He stared/glared some more. Then he stepped around the chair, and he gripped Grantaire's arm, and he very deliberately strode towards the coffee table, whereupon he pointed at the ground and he said, with no small measure of authority, ​"Sit."

Grantaire blinked as he let himself be dragged along and without hesitation, he sat down on the floor, vaguely wondering if this was the moment that Grantaire had accidentally gone too far and that Enjolras was going to tell him to stop any form of contact with him. With slight confusion and an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he looked up at the other, waiting for what was to come.

Enjolras crossed to the other side of the coffee table, and sat upon the floor facing Grantaire, divesting himself of his hoodie to leave a shirt, whereupon he cracked his knuckles and met Grantaire's gaze once more, setting his right elbow upon the table, hand held high with his other fisted behind his back. ​"You think I am weak. Very well, then. If you truly are so much stronger than I am, then it should be easy for you to pin my wrist to the table. Have you wristwrestled before?"

Grantaire just stared at Enjolras for a short moment before a small smirk curled up his lips. "​Indeed, I have. Are you sure you want to do this? I do not want this to end with you feeling disappointed because I am going to win this.​" He rolled up his sleeves and set his own right elbow in position, his hand curling into Enjolras'. "​Whenever you are ready.​"

Enjolras 's eyes narrowed even further at Grantaire's words. ​"A strong sentiment. It's too bad you're going to lose."​ He curled his own hand into Grantaire's and ignored how easily they fit together. Then he nodded.

Grantaire waited for the nod and started pushing against Enjolras' hand, not even using half of the strength he possessed. He wanted to test just how much strength he would have to use to win without making it seem like it had been too easy to beat the blonde.

Enjolras also began to push, also not even using half of his strength, and furrowed his brows, though he had no qualms against using more strength than entirely necessary to annihilate the brunette, and soon pushed harder.

Grantaire raised his eyebrow as he felt Enjolras push harder and he himself started to hold against it, using more of his own strength, slowly starting to honestly try and tip Enjolras' hand over.

Enjolras 's jaw clenched as he felt the pressure of Grantaire against him. He persevered, however, and, reaffirmed his grip, holding fast and pushing back.

Grantaire grunted quietly, not having expected as much force to come from the other. His own grip tightened and he could feel small droplets of sweat form in the beginning of his hairline.

Enjolras bit at his lip, a bead of sweat forming at his temple as he pressed into Grantaire. Nothing was giving.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, muttering quietly under his breath when nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras scowled as nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute passed.

Grantaire kept pressing against Enjolras, nothing moved. A minute passed.

Enjolras kept pressing against Grantaire, nothing gave. A minute would have passed, but Gavroche bounced onto the table, winding around their arms with no shame, and Enjolras nudged at the cat in an attempt to get him to move.

Grantaire glanced at the cat and just as he was about to help Enjolras to get him to move, Apollo had awoken from the turmoil caused by the cat and bounced after the feline. He stumbled over his own paws and climbed up on Grantaire's lap as he tried to get to the cat.

Enjolras sneezed violently, the force forcing him to let go amid the chaos as Gavroche yowled and clambered onto his shoulders.

Grantaire held onto Apollo with his arms now and tried to calm the playful, wiggling dog down.