[ Enjolras leans obligingly - he's thoroughly in favor of as much warmth as possible. His range of motion is a little limited by the fact he's not about to lift his feet out of the bath. He considers, and of the thought of Grantaire in his parents' home he has only this to say: ]
They wouldn't care for you.
[ Like father, like son, or - something to that effect. When he raises his eyes to Grantaire again, the look he gives him is open and quite serious and not one iota bothered. ]
And I doubt very much that anyone at your functions would care for me.
Really? I am known to be charming. [ That is not quite true, though he could theoretically be charming. He disregards the idea, because there is no doubt in his mind that Enjolras's parents would find him distasteful. It had taken long enough to gain favor from Enjolras up to this point; he does not care to try it again with likely more reserved versions. ]
But then, are you not the same? Those at my functions are the same as those you gather in your group. Young men, most not so bright, but hopeful. Ah, well, those are at the finer dances. Of course, it is you who would not care for them. They search for women, and women search for men. That is, they would be upon you quite sufficiently. What would you do, then?
[ Enjolras scoffs, but it's with an edge of a smile - it's just possible Grantaire had begun to teach him how to recognize a joke. ]
Not so bright, indeed. If you thought that, I highly doubt you'd keep their company. But - I would dance, I suppose. I would certainly be a disappointment. They'd move on to more charming ground immediately.
[ Unless they enjoyed being tugged around less than gracefully while listening to an impromptu sermon on idleness and excess (or a well-rehearsed sermon, for that matter), which Enjolras does not imagine features among feminine amusements. ]
You would accept? [ He is surprised by that notion. He has never considered the idea that Enjolras might dance--surely he has learned, but Grantaire cannot picture it. ]
So you would leave me behind! It does not matter how you dance; with your fine words evident of your education and your--appearance, no woman would let you go. But that is only what you deserve for allowing me to stand alone.
[ He's definitely smiling, now, although it's more bemused than anything else - and perhaps a little rueful. He rarely considers at all how little about Grantaire he understands, because of course he expects to understand nothing, but this is one of those instances in which he has the opportunity to contemplate what on earth he does with himself - what he wants or cares for. It's all frivolous rubbish, of course, but it is not nothing. ]
At any rate, as I understand it, most women don't go in search of men who have no designs whatsoever on marriage. Neither of us would be in very much demand.
[ Marriage is far too much of an accomplishment for him to believe Grantaire capable of it, of course. ]
Should the situation ever arise, it will no longer be hypothetical. [ He hardly seems offended. He is watching Enjolras's mouth, and the way it is most definitely tilted upwards. It is a nice sight, and Grantaire cannot help but reflect it. ]
Neither? You think women take a look at me and see an eternal bachelor? [ Perhaps that is why none come near him. He does not believe it, though. ] Or rather, do you think I cannot take part in a holy ceremony such as marriage because of our sinful encounters here? That I am doomed to rest my hand in yours for an eternity! Is that what you wish? [ He seems to be searching for an answer almost hopefully, but he hardly recognizes that himself. ]
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.
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no subject
They wouldn't care for you.
[ Like father, like son, or - something to that effect. When he raises his eyes to Grantaire again, the look he gives him is open and quite serious and not one iota bothered. ]
And I doubt very much that anyone at your functions would care for me.
no subject
But then, are you not the same? Those at my functions are the same as those you gather in your group. Young men, most not so bright, but hopeful. Ah, well, those are at the finer dances. Of course, it is you who would not care for them. They search for women, and women search for men. That is, they would be upon you quite sufficiently. What would you do, then?
no subject
Not so bright, indeed. If you thought that, I highly doubt you'd keep their company. But - I would dance, I suppose. I would certainly be a disappointment. They'd move on to more charming ground immediately.
[ Unless they enjoyed being tugged around less than gracefully while listening to an impromptu sermon on idleness and excess (or a well-rehearsed sermon, for that matter), which Enjolras does not imagine features among feminine amusements. ]
no subject
So you would leave me behind! It does not matter how you dance; with your fine words evident of your education and your--appearance, no woman would let you go. But that is only what you deserve for allowing me to stand alone.
no subject
[ He's definitely smiling, now, although it's more bemused than anything else - and perhaps a little rueful. He rarely considers at all how little about Grantaire he understands, because of course he expects to understand nothing, but this is one of those instances in which he has the opportunity to contemplate what on earth he does with himself - what he wants or cares for. It's all frivolous rubbish, of course, but it is not nothing. ]
At any rate, as I understand it, most women don't go in search of men who have no designs whatsoever on marriage. Neither of us would be in very much demand.
[ Marriage is far too much of an accomplishment for him to believe Grantaire capable of it, of course. ]
no subject
Neither? You think women take a look at me and see an eternal bachelor? [ Perhaps that is why none come near him. He does not believe it, though. ] Or rather, do you think I cannot take part in a holy ceremony such as marriage because of our sinful encounters here? That I am doomed to rest my hand in yours for an eternity! Is that what you wish? [ He seems to be searching for an answer almost hopefully, but he hardly recognizes that himself. ]
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.