Chapter Text
The streets of Paris were nearly deserted as it got closer to midnight and the grey clouds made the summer night dark. Enjolras and Grantaire were on their way to Enjolras' apartment after a meeting with the Amis at the Musain. The meeting had gone well; Enjolras had made a compelling speech to his friends, and they had finally made the final preparations for a protest they were holding in a few weeks. Grantaire had occupied his usual table in a corner along with Bahorel, drinking and making jokes. However, knowing he was going home with Enjolras later, Grantaire did not drink as much as he would have a few months earlier, before Enjolras had finally asked him out.
Grantaire had not been able to quit drinking all together - not that he had tried that hard either - but he had cut back a great deal, only drinking himself to oblivion every once in a while instead of nearly every night. In the beginning of their relationship, Enjolras had expressed his worries about Grantaire's drinking a few times, but only when it was at the absolute worst. The first time Enjolras voiced his concerns after they started going out, it had ended in a particularly bad fight. It had ended in Grantaire storming out, leaving behind a torn and apologetic Enjolras. They had made up the next afternoon, and Grantaire was almost sure that was the first time he had ever seen Enjolras look positively miserable. After that, Enjolras made sure not to lose his temper in that way, while Grantaire, not wanting to lose Enjolras or have him worrying too much, decided to try and slow down with his drinking. It was not necessarily easy all the time, but he was certain that quitting would be even worse, so he managed with some help from his friends and his boyfriend.
Now they were walking hand in hand down the quiet streets, fingers tightly entwined. Enjolras looked down at their hands, deep in thought, while Grantaire chatted happily about an arm-wrestling match with Bahorel.
"I mean, I don't know why he keeps wanting to wrestle with me, he always loses anyway. Sure, you'd think a drunk like me wouldn't have much strength, but he knows I do kick-boxing and work out sometimes, I mean just because I don't go to the gym two hours a day, doesn't mean I-"
"I think I'm in love with you," Enjolras said suddenly, interrupting Grantaire's rambling.
Grantaire froze in his steps, not letting go of Enjolras' hand, yanking him back as he had continued walking. His mouth had fallen open in shock and his eyes were wide as he looked at Enjolras in disbelief. Enjolras stared back, a fond smile playing on his lips. He had been thinking a lot about his feelings for Grantaire lately, and as Grantaire had rambled on about everything and nothing, Enjolras had finally truly understood his feelings for the other man. It had been a while since Grantaire had made his feelings for Enjolras perfectly clear, and ever since he had said it for the first time, Enjolras had been trying to figure out how he felt. The thought that it could be love had crossed his mind several times, but the uncertainty had stopped him from saying it out loud. Until now.
The frozen man stared at him for what seemed like a very long time, unable to find his ability to speak. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, Grantaire finally found his voice, though it came out squeaky and unfamiliar to his ears.
"What was that?"
Enjolras rolled his eyes at him, but he could not surpress the small smile that came due to Grantaire's reaction.
"I said that I think I'm in love with you," he said softly. "Or, well, I'm actually pretty sure I'm in love with you. Completely sure, in fact."
Enjolras let out a nervous laugh. Grantaire stood completely still again as he processed Enjolras' confession.
"So, you love me?" He said quietly after a short while. He was staring intently at the ground, unable to meet Enjolras' eyes.
"That is what I said, yes," he answered, "I love you, Grantaire."
Grantaire still did not meet Enjolras' gaze, so Enjolras put two fingers beneath Grantaire's chin to tilt his head up so he could see the other man's icy blue eyes. They were wide, and if Enjolras saw the moisture gathered in the corners, he did not mention it. Instead, he just leaned in to press his lips softly to Grantaire's. As their lips touched, Enjolras felt the raindrops on his forehead. He pulled back and smiled widely at his shocked boyfriend.
"Come on, R, let's go home before it starts to rain properly."
Enjolras turned to start walking, but once again he was pulled back by Grantaire's hand in his.
"No, wait," Grantaire said.
"But the rain, R. We can talk while we walk."
"Fuck the rain, you just said you loved me," Grantaire looked impatiently at Enjolras. "How long have you known?"
Enjolras laughed and gave Grantaire's hand a light squeeze.
"I'm not sure. I think I've loved you for a very long time though, even if I did realise it just now."
"You-" Grataire started before closing his eyes briefly and letting out a deep breath. "Only you," Grantaire chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief, "only you would take months to figure out you're in love, and the blurt it out like it's the most casual thing ever."
Enjolras smiled and let out a small laugh.
"Yes, I realise it may have come out a bit wrong, but-"
"Oh, shut up, I don't know why I'm still surprised by your way of handling these kind of things."
"I don't know," Enjolras replied with a smirk. "But I do know that it's raining a lot, so can we please go home and talk about this?"
The raindrops had started to fall quicker and heavier. As Enjolras tried once more to lead Grantaire towards home, Grantaire pulled him even closer, wrapping his an arm around Enjolras' waist.
"Say it again?" He whispered, staring intensely into Enjolras' eyes. Enjolras grinned wider and leaned in so that his lips were right by Grantaire's ear.
"I love you," he whispered before pulling back to see a grinning Grantaire.
Suddenly, Grantaire's lips were on his own and the arm around his waist was holding him tighter, trying to get him as close as possible. Enjolras' hand found its way to Grantaire's hair, fingers weaving through curls as their lips moved against each other. Grantaire ran his tongue across Enjolras' lower lip, and soon their tongues found each other in a familiar dance. The two men grew more and more desperate in trying to get closer to the other, hands gripping hair and hips, holding on like it was the only thing keeping the world from falling apart. They only broke the kiss when they were breathless and panting, leaning against the other's forehead, trying to catch their breath. It was raining heavily now, both men soaked through their thin coats and wet curls clung to their skin.
Enjolras let out a breathless chuckle, before pressing his lips tenderly to Grantaire's once more.
"I love you," he said once more as he broke the kiss.
"I love you, too," Grantaire said, beaming with happiness.
"Let's go home and get you out of these wet clothes," Enjolras said with a suggestive wink. And this time, Grantaire made no move to stop him.