This? This isn't sinful. [ He's not sure he knew Grantaire considered anything sinful in the first place, least of all something so very tame - so very sober - as this. ] I can't believe you'd do anything but run from marriage - sin has nothing to do with it. Well - nothing necessarily. I can't devote myself to a woman, and I strongly suspect you won't. That's all.
[ He puts his hand in Grantaire's comfortably. Thinking of this even in the same breath as marriage is a little confounding, because of course no two things could be more different - he isn't even certain he and Grantaire are friends, the way he understands the word. Strange, not to be able to name something. ]
Anyhow, there's no such thing as doom. If you would stand up, you could walk whichever way you wished.
Ah. [ Grantaire seems to roll the idea over in his mind. They are talking in large concepts, as Enjolras is so keen on, and as Grantaire avoids. He cannot say whether he hates marriage or desires it—it is more unlikely that he would desire it, truly, but he does not wish to live his life alone.
His fingers run over the hand in his palm, while his own free hand reaches forward to settle against Enjolras's jaw. ]
Does sin only occur when it comes from men other than yourself? Then perhaps I should walk toward you when I stand, and I might be saved.
[ His tone is a little reproachful, but he can't muster much exasperation at the moment for Grantaire's penchant for twisting words. He cocks his head slightly, leaning his jaw into Grantaire's palm. ]
All men are. But I fail to see how this could be a sin - unless it's idleness, I suppose. [ He's not even prepared to concede that - some time with Grantaire is well spent. Not all of it, certainly. But even if he'd never call himself a savior, he has some ambitions toward putting him on the right path. It's worth the time. ] I was cold, and you warmed me. A work of mercy, if you like. You'll save yourself yet.
[ Grantaire cannot bring himself to become frustrated with this line of conversation, the way he always returns to the topic of Grantaire changing into the man Enjolras wants him to be. He does not mind the thought, and he might try at times to show Enjolras that he is capable; it is only that it never works.
But now he is far too comfortable to complain. Their touch warms each other, not their words. ]
Idleness, is it? I had thought this was all you desired, but if you consider it to be idle... [ He shifts back, but does not move his hands. ]
I could leave you cold, or find some new method to warm you.
[ He shifts forward almost as a matter of reflex when Grantaire moves away. He's warmer now, but it only makes the cold all the more noticeable when they're no longer so close. The water's beginning to cool, too, so he draws his feet up out of the basin and reaches a bit awkwardly with his free hand for the towel. Warmth is paramount - but he's also not terribly interested in achieving it alone, it seems. ]
One could call it rest, I suppose, if one were looking for a kinder word.
[ Which, perhaps, one should be. Self-awareness is hardly his strongest suit, but he is at least moderately cognizant of the fact that he might seem ungrateful. He pauses, and then leans even further in to rest his lips on Grantaire's. ]
[ Grantaire has been hoping for this reaction. With anyone else, it would be simple teasing. With Enjolras, it is a risk. Enjolras may decide he prefers the cold to Grantaire's touch at any point, or at least that is how he sees it.
Enjolras does not do that, though, and Grantaire is assured once again. He shifts back to press into the kiss, remaining close even as they speak. ]
I do not think you come to me for rest. Allow me to see how much warmth I can provide. Perhaps this is where I excel. [ He speaks too much even when he attempts to be short, but makes up for it by pressing their lips together again, this time lavishing his lower lip with both tongue and teeth. ]
[ Enjolras' mouth slips open to to better meet Grantaire's - it is warm, and it's close, and it's one of those comforts he had hardly even considered before he found it, never mind imagined that he might enjoy. There's something very simply desirable about it. It feels good; he wants more. It doesn't really bear much thought. So his response, of course, is a little thoughtless, only words. ]
Perhaps - yes.
[ He curls his legs up onto the couch, tucking in beside him. There's a little spark of shame, just the beginning of something, harkening back to Grantaire's invocation of sin, but ... But he doesn't come to Grantaire for rest. Grantaire is infuriating. Grantaire is absolutely determined to be good for nothing. And here's proof that every man has warmth in him, every man wants to be good for something.
No doubt Grantaire would phrase it rather more crudely, but that's all the more reason not to let him phrase it at all. He rests his arm heavily on his shoulder. ]
[ Grantaire is rarely ever able to be overwhelming. Certainly he tries, with his loud words and heavy gestures, but he is nothing when compared to those with the natural ability, those like Enjolras. Now it is a point of pride to show what he is capable of, that he is skilled at this and Enjolras could not be left wanting more. His arms wrap around his middle, bringing him close and covering what parts of him are vulnerable to the cold.
Still, he cannot stop himself from distraction, from the remarks that easily form in his mind which must be spoken, lest Enjolras not hear his wit. He breaks the kiss only to brush against his cheek, nearing his ear and the sensitive area of his neck. ]
You must have known very little if you think this is anything to praise. Hospitality, that is, I do not doubt your inexperience in other matters. Though I wonder how much of it you will begin to seek.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He puts his hand in Grantaire's comfortably. Thinking of this even in the same breath as marriage is a little confounding, because of course no two things could be more different - he isn't even certain he and Grantaire are friends, the way he understands the word. Strange, not to be able to name something. ]
Anyhow, there's no such thing as doom. If you would stand up, you could walk whichever way you wished.
no subject
His fingers run over the hand in his palm, while his own free hand reaches forward to settle against Enjolras's jaw. ]
Does sin only occur when it comes from men other than yourself? Then perhaps I should walk toward you when I stand, and I might be saved.
no subject
[ His tone is a little reproachful, but he can't muster much exasperation at the moment for Grantaire's penchant for twisting words. He cocks his head slightly, leaning his jaw into Grantaire's palm. ]
All men are. But I fail to see how this could be a sin - unless it's idleness, I suppose. [ He's not even prepared to concede that - some time with Grantaire is well spent. Not all of it, certainly. But even if he'd never call himself a savior, he has some ambitions toward putting him on the right path. It's worth the time. ] I was cold, and you warmed me. A work of mercy, if you like. You'll save yourself yet.
no subject
But now he is far too comfortable to complain. Their touch warms each other, not their words. ]
Idleness, is it? I had thought this was all you desired, but if you consider it to be idle... [ He shifts back, but does not move his hands. ]
I could leave you cold, or find some new method to warm you.
no subject
[ He shifts forward almost as a matter of reflex when Grantaire moves away. He's warmer now, but it only makes the cold all the more noticeable when they're no longer so close. The water's beginning to cool, too, so he draws his feet up out of the basin and reaches a bit awkwardly with his free hand for the towel. Warmth is paramount - but he's also not terribly interested in achieving it alone, it seems. ]
One could call it rest, I suppose, if one were looking for a kinder word.
[ Which, perhaps, one should be. Self-awareness is hardly his strongest suit, but he is at least moderately cognizant of the fact that he might seem ungrateful. He pauses, and then leans even further in to rest his lips on Grantaire's. ]
You warm me very well.
no subject
Enjolras does not do that, though, and Grantaire is assured once again. He shifts back to press into the kiss, remaining close even as they speak. ]
I do not think you come to me for rest. Allow me to see how much warmth I can provide. Perhaps this is where I excel. [ He speaks too much even when he attempts to be short, but makes up for it by pressing their lips together again, this time lavishing his lower lip with both tongue and teeth. ]
no subject
Perhaps - yes.
[ He curls his legs up onto the couch, tucking in beside him. There's a little spark of shame, just the beginning of something, harkening back to Grantaire's invocation of sin, but ... But he doesn't come to Grantaire for rest. Grantaire is infuriating. Grantaire is absolutely determined to be good for nothing. And here's proof that every man has warmth in him, every man wants to be good for something.
No doubt Grantaire would phrase it rather more crudely, but that's all the more reason not to let him phrase it at all. He rests his arm heavily on his shoulder. ]
You've always excelled at hospitality.
no subject
Still, he cannot stop himself from distraction, from the remarks that easily form in his mind which must be spoken, lest Enjolras not hear his wit. He breaks the kiss only to brush against his cheek, nearing his ear and the sensitive area of his neck. ]
You must have known very little if you think this is anything to praise. Hospitality, that is, I do not doubt your inexperience in other matters. Though I wonder how much of it you will begin to seek.