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The first time Grantaire accidentally glamoured Enjolras, they were in bed together. There was an hour to go before sunrise, but Enjolras was already sitting up in bed, his alarm having gone off minutes before, and Grantaire groaned and tried to tighten his grip on the man. “Don’t get up,” he said, pouting and scooting closer to him to press his lips against the bite marks that stood out on Enjolras’s pale neck.
Though Enjolras laughed breathily, he also untangled Grantaire’s arms from around him and stood, stretching almost teasingly. “I have to,” he told Grantaire, bending over to try and find his boxers. “You have to go to sleep in an hour anyway, and this way you can keep me company for breakfast.”
"You mean keep you company while you read the newspaper and complain," Grantaire huffed, still pouting. "Maybe if you let me have a little breakfast first…?"
Enjolras smirked at him. “You fed last night. Now you’re just being greedy.”
Grantaire stuck his tongue out at him. “And you’re no fun.” He sighed and rolled over, propping himself up on his elbow as he watched Enjolras shimmy into a pair of boxers that Grantaire half thought might be his. “Come back to bed.”
“Can’t,” Enjolras said, distracted this time, trying to find his jeans. “I’ve got a lot to do today in preparation for the rally next week.”
"You guys aren’t even in charge of the rally next week," Grantaire countered, and his voice slipped into something deeper as he met Enjolras’s eyes. "Come back to bed."
Enjolras froze from where he was, facing Grantaire from across the room, and as if in a daze, he crossed over to the bed and sat down next to Grantaire, who looked at him blankly. “What are you doing?”
Shaking his head, Enjolras’s gaze went from vacant to focused, and he seemed surprised that he was sitting on the bed. “I…uh…I’m not sure. I guess I’m more tired than I thought I was.” He smiled at Grantaire. “Maybe I should have taken your suggestion of staying in bed.”
Grantaire, however, felt suddenly a bit panicked, finally recognizing what had just happened, and he shook his head. “No, you have things to do. And I know that.” Before Enjolras could even blink, Grantaire was up and dressed and back at the bed, holding out his hand to help Enjolras to his feet. “Now come on. Your incessant complaining about the state of humanity is a never-ending amusement to me.”
Though Enjolras still looked slightly confused, he took Grantaire’s hand and let him pull him to his feet. And as Grantaire pulled Enjolras toward the kitchen, he tried to swallow the feeling that he had just done something terrible.
The second time was a similar accident. Enjolras was hunched over in the armchair, reading some article or another on his computer about some equality something or other — Grantaire had long stopped paying attention when he learned that it didn’t affect him or his duties as Sheriff — while Grantaire lounged on the couch, flipping channels. “I’m bored,” he announced.
“That’s nice,” Enjolras murmured distractedly.
Grantaire heaved a sigh. As much as he loved Enjolras — and to be fair, he loved Enjolras more than anything or anyone he had encountered in his 900 years — his lover could be difficult to deal with sometimes, and while normally Grantaire balanced his own duties against Enjolras’s, tonight was supposed to be one of their mutual nights off.
As he glared at Enjolras’s hunched back, he reached for the TV remote, letting out a low growl when it skid across the table and away from his hands. Though Grantaire, being far more physically capable than his human boyfriend, was more than able to get the remote himself before Enjolras would even stand up, he groaned and glared at Enjolras’s back. “You should take a break,” he complained. “Come cuddle with me and bring me the remote.”
Now Enjolras sighed and looked up, his eyes locking on Grantaire’s as Grantaire repeated, “Bring me the remote and come cuddle.”
Instantly, Enjolras stood, setting his computer down on the coffee table as he bent to pick up the remote. Wordlessly, he handed it to Grantaire before lying down next to him on the couch, letting Grantaire wrap his arms around him and pull him close as he kissed his temple.
After a moment, Enjolras seemed to relax, and when he rolled over slightly to kiss Grantaire, his eyes were clear. “This is nice, actually,” he murmured, kissing down Grantaire’s jaw, nipping lightly at his skin. “Thanks for suggesting it.”
“Right,” said Grantaire, squashing down the guilt he felt, because damnit, Enjolras liked it, was enjoying himself, so Grantaire didn’t have to feel guilty about anything, right?
Grantaire arrived at Enjolras’s door one night already cranky from having to deal with a pair of rogue vamps at the edge of his Area, and that, coupled with the fact that Enjolras had been busy the past few nights and Grantaire had not fed, made him even crankier. He went into Enjolras’s bedroom without knocking, slipping into bed beside Enjolras, who was asleep, and pressing a kiss to Enjolras’s neck.
Enjolras stirred and rolled over to try and kiss Grantaire, who just growled low in his throat and lowered his head to suck a bloodbruise onto Enjolras’s pulse point. “Good evening to you, too,” he murmured sleepily. “Someone’s a little insistent tonight. Not even going to say anything to me?”
“Enjolras,” Grantaire growled, and Enjolras’s eyes flashed up to his. “Shut up and let me feed.”
Again, his voice had slid into that timbre that he was trying his best to avoid in all situations, and Enjolras’s eyes seemed to focus on something far in the distance, and he obediently tilted his head, baring his neck for easier access.
Grantaire distracted himself from any guilt by sinking his fangs into Enjolras’s neck, lapping up the warm blood that spilled into his mouth.
After the fourth time, Grantaire knew he needed help, and so he sought out the only vampire he trusted to discuss this with — Joly.
Granted, he could have asked Valjean, or one of the other Sheriffs, but despite his inclusion in their ranks, he didn’t necessarily trust them (900 years of self-inflicted exile from most other vampires was a hard thing to shake, even now, even with Grantaire feeling the most human he ever had, particularly when around Enjolras). And besides, none of them had human lovers — at least, not like him and Enjolras, where Enjolras would more accurately be defined as Grantaire’s partner in all respects.
But Joly had Bossuet, and so Grantaire imagined that he would be able to help. At the very least, he would listen and not mock.
When Joly answered the door, he looked first surprised, then wary. “Sheriff,” he said, inclining his head. “What brings you here?”
“I had something to discuss with you,” Grantaire said, his voice slipping into a more formal tone almost despite himself. “Something of a personal matter.”
“Ah.” Instantly, Joly relaxed, and he stepped back, allowing Grantaire in (Grantaire was briefly glad that Joly owned the apartment he shared with Bossuet, as he was not required to receive permission before entering). He followed Joly into the living room, and perched awkwardly on the couch as Joly settled into the armchair. “So what’s going on? I presume this has something to do with Enjolras?”
Grantaire sighed. “You presume correctly.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying his best to put into words his dilemma. “Tell me, have you…have you ever glamoured Bossuet? On accident? Or on purpose?”
Joly looked down, and were he human, Grantaire was sure he would’ve blushed. “Once,” Joly said in a low voice. “When we first got together. He had fallen down some stairs and I was taking him to the hospital, but he was in such pain. So I…so I glamoured him and told him that his injury didn’t hurt anymore.” He looked up at Grantaire, worrying his lip with his teeth. “Was I wrong to do that? When he was in such pain?”
Biting back a bitter chuckle, Grantaire shook his head. “I am not the one to pass moral judgment in this case. Not when I have done what I have.”
Now Joly looked up at him, his eyes hardening. “And what is it you have done?” he asked, his tone deceptively light, and Grantaire remembered that Joly was, perhaps, Enjolras’s friend first, and his mind flashed unbidden to the thought of Bahorel and the damage that the Were could inflict on him if he learned Grantaire had done something to Enjolras.
“Hopefully nothing unforgivable,” Grantaire said after a long moment, and then he launched into the story, ending with the most recent incidence: “He was insisting that he was going to that stupid riot last week, the one that the police had to call in reinforcements to break up. And I had heard rumors of some of the…more unsavory members of our race planning on attending, and I could not allow him to go and to do that, not when he might get hurt, not when his presence wasn’t even necessary. This was not his riot; this was not his fight. And we had a bit of an argument about it, and I told him…” He trailed off and looked away. “I glamoured him into not going to the protest.”
Joly said nothing and Grantaire looked at him appeasingly. “I did not plan on doing so; know that. It was an accident, an instinct that I could not seem to control. And he told me later that he was glad he hadn’t gone, that it seemed his presence may have only made matters worse, especially with his known association with me and my status. So it surely wasn’t all bad?”
Sighing, Joly looking away, drumming his fingers lightly against the arm of the chair. “Your justification speaks volumes. If it was the right action to take, you would not need to justify it at all. But you know as well as I that Enjolras would balk first and foremost at the idea of his choice being taken away, regardless of whether he eventually comes around to your point of view.”
“I know that,” Grantaire acknowledged, looking down. After a long pause, he asked Joly softly, “How did you stop yourself from glamouring Bossuet?”
“Well, to begin, I have many less centuries of ingrained behavior,” Joly said, his voice gentle, and Grantaire half-smiled at him, appreciative of his attempt to explain away some of Grantaire’s instinct. “But once I realized that I loved Bossuet and wanted him as my equal, I knew I could not glamour him, that I would never forgive myself for forcing him into anything. So I went to my Maker, with whom I maintain a cordial relationship, and asked her to command me not to glamour him.”
Grantaire’s eyes widened. “And she agreed to that?” he asked incredulously.
Joly shrugged. “She was always an unconventional vampire, and she is nearly as fond of Bossuet as I. Though I think she thought it was foolish, when I explained it to her, she agreed.” He hesitated. “Could you not ask your Maker to do the same?”
Sighing, Grantaire shook his head. “No. My Maker received the true death as punishment for a crime centuries ago.”
Joly winced. “Then I do not know what to tell you, save that the person you should be having this conversation with is Enjolras. He will not be pleased with you, but he needs to know.”
There was the barest hint of a threat in his words, and Grantaire inclined his head. “I will speak with him,” he promised. “He deserves the truth.”
Grantaire’s eyes watched Enjolras warily, noting the tense set of his muscles, and he asked softly, “Are you angry with me?”
Enjolras sighed and ran both his hands through his hair. “I am…not pleased,” he said softly. “I mean, I understand your intentions, but you can’t just take my choice away from me. Even in the name of my safety.”
“I know that,” Grantaire muttered, but Enjolras shook his head.
“Do you? Because this is what I do, Grantaire. This is what I’ve always done. I can’t shut myself away from the world no matter how much I love you, because people need me. And we can change things. Even if I get a little beat up along the way.”
Now Grantaire shook his head. “But that’s just it — I don’t give a damn about changing the world. All I care about is keeping you safe. And I would never intentionally strip you of your freedom and your choices, but damnit, you scare me sometimes. You throw yourselves so recklessly into these situations, and you’re not immortal! You’re human. And if you want to stay that way, you need to be more careful.”
Enjolras’s eyes flashed up to meet his. “What does that mean?” he asked in a low voice. “If I want to stay human? What are you saying, Grantaire?”
Grantaire just looked at him for a long moment. “The thought…the thought had crossed my mind that if you were determined to pursue your foolhardy agenda, you may be better served doing so as a slightly less mortal version of yourself.”
“You mean a vampire.” Enjolras voice was hollow, and Grantaire could hear the stutter of his heartbeat, the quickened breathing, the impending panic about to work his way into his voice. “You want to turn me into a vampire.”
“I…no,” Grantaire said quickly, beginning to panic himself, because he had not intended to have this conversation. “No, it was just a thought. A desperate thought, to be sure, though I will not pretend that I’ve not considered it for other reasons as well—”
Enjolras’s eyes were wide and his pulse and breathing were increasing to the point of hyperventilation, and Grantaire forced himself to meet Enjolras eyes as he blurted, “Just forget this conversation ever happened!”
Enjolras blinked, his pulse and breathing instantly settling back to normal, and he shook his head once. “Sorry,” he said slowly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I wasn’t listening. What were you saying?”
Grantaire blinked back the tears of blood beginning to well in his eyes and looked away. “Nothing,” he said in a hoarse voice, rising from his seat. “I have to go.”
“Grantaire?” Enjolras asked, confused, watching as Grantaire brushed past him, practically flying to the door. “Grantaire!”
But Grantaire was already gone, running, feeling far more worthless than he felt since meeting Enjolras, since this affair had began.
Whereas before, Grantaire would have drowned his sorrows in bottles of True Blood and hiding from the world, he knew with Enjolras, as well as with his Sheriff duties, this was no longer an option. So instead, the next night, he made his way back to Enjolras’s, steeling himself to have the conversation they should have had the previous night.
He knocked on Enjolras’s door, waiting for him to answer it, to let him in. Enjolras opened the door, frowning. “You’re knocking now?”
“It seemed appropriate to me,” Grantaire said, knowing his voice sounded strange. “May I come in?”
Enjolras opened the door and stepped aside. “Always.” His eyes flickered up to Grantaire’s. “Do you want to talk?”
Grantaire nodded, and Enjolras took his hand, leading him into the living room, sitting next to him on the couch, as close as he possibly could without sitting on him. “Are you going to tell me what happened last night?”
Grantaire nodded, slowly, hoping that the way he was going about doing this would work out. “I insinuated that I’ve thought about turning you into a vampire, and you did not react well to the thought.”
Enjolras stared at him. “I have no memory of that conversation.”
A sad smile lifted the corner of Grantaire’s mouth. “That’s because I glamoured you to forget it.”
“You…what?”
Before he could lose his nerve, Grantaire took a deep breath. “I glamoured you last night, and I’ve accidentally glamoured you in the past,” he said, looking straight into Enjolras’s eyes, “and we are going to talk about it and I will take whatever you want to yell at me, but first, I need to do something. Look at me and don’t look away.”
Though Enjolras’s brow creased, he did as Grantaire commanded, staring unblinkingly into his eyes. Grantaire took a deep breath and let his voice slip into the low, seductive timbre of the glamour, and he said firmly, “You will not be compelled or glamoured by me again.”
Enjolras blinked once, his eyes watering. “Did it work?” he asked quietly.
Grantaire shrugged. “Only one way to find out.” He looked into Enjolras’s eyes again and commanded softly, “Strip naked so I can see your glorious body.”
A grin split Enjolras’s face and he ducked his head and blushed. “I’d do that without you commanding it, you realize,” he said, and Grantaire laughed, an honest, genuine laugh.
“It worked.” Grantaire sounded as relieved as he felt, and he reached out to cup Enjolras’s cheek, to draw his thumb over his cheekbone, rubbing circles over the delicate bone. “I am truly sorry for any previous times that I glamoured you. I would never want to take your choices away from you.”
Enjolras reached up to circle Grantaire’s wrist with his hand. “No real harm was done,” he said softly. “I know you wouldn’t do it on purpose, and if anything, this serves as a stark reminder that vampires and humans are different and have different methods of communication.” He kissed Grantaire lightly and then asked teasingly, “But are you sure you’re ok with giving up the only means you have of controlling me?”
Chuckling slightly, Grantaire pulled Enjolras to him, kissing first his lips and then his cheek, kissing down Enjolras’s jaw and neck. “To be entirely honest, I’d really rather not control you at all.”
Enjolras was silent for a long moment before he said quietly, “I have thought about you turning me, you realize. It kind of comes with the territory of dating a vampire. I don’t…I don’t want you to right now, but even I can’t promise I’ll always feel that way.”
“I know that,” Grantaire said. “And as much as I would love to spend eternity with you, I value you as a human far too much to turn you against your will.” He kissed Enjolras again and added in a quiet voice, “Though if you were to remain human, when you died, I think…I think I would want to see the sun one last time.”
Grantaire heard the breath catch in Enjolras’s throat, and Enjolras’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean — you can’t mean that. You would choose the final death if I were to die? That’s an impossible position to put me in, Grantaire! Either I choose life as a vampire, or you die when I die?”
Shaking his head, Grantaire said quietly, “It’s not a choice for you. It’s a choice solely for me. And as you say, I may change my mind. But right now…I could not bear an eternity without you.”
“That’s just what I mean!” Enjolras said hotly. “How can I possibly choose to remain human knowing that you would die?”
“How can I choose to let you remain human, knowing you would die?” Grantaire countered. “Because I respect your choice, that’s how. No matter what I would want for you, I will not again force you into something you don’t want.”
Enjolras reached up to grip Grantaire’s face between his palms. “But by setting up those two options, you’ve already forced me into a decision I don’t want to have to make.”
Grantaire looked down and let out a dry laugh. “How I wish I had waited to glamour you until after this conversation,” he said wryly. “I wish I could make you forget this.”
“I don’t,” Enjolras said, honestly. “I’m glad you said it, glad you told me how you feel. It’s not something we’re going to solve tonight, but it’s something that we definitely have to work on. But as equals, alright?”
Nodding, Grantaire gripped Enjolras’s hips and flipped him so that Grantaire was on top, straddling him. “Well, as almost equals,” he said, bending to kiss Enjolras, who laughed, putting his arms around Grantaire’s neck.
“Almost equals, then.”