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Grantaire felt safe with Combeferre. At first, their relationship had been one of second bests. Both Grantaire and Combeferre had been mutually pining for Enjolras, but in the end, they came to have real feelings for each other, and while their feelings for Enjolras would never truly fade, not for either of them, they had at least been able to move on.
Being with Combeferre was like having a home, Grantaire thought. Combeferre was someone to come home to after a long day at the studio, after his body ached and he felt as though he should give up entirely. It was Combeferre who held him, Combeferre who worked the knots from his muscles and told him that he was a brilliant dancer and shouldn’t give up, no matter how hard it seemed. Grantaire came home to Combeferre on good days and bad days, and for him, it was enough to have someone to come home to.
Today had been a good day. Grantaire had danced beautifully, had executed every move as perfectly as he was able to, and while his muscles were sore, it was a pleasant sort of sore, a sore that spoke of work well done. Grantaire let himself into their shared apartment and yelled out a hello before heading to the bathroom and showering quickly. He had news that he wanted to share with Combeferre, but a shower was necessary first. Wrapping himself in a towel, he left the bathroom and went in search of Combeferre.
Combeferre was, as Grantaire had suspected, absorbed in his work. He was hunched over his desk in their bedroom, glasses perched on his nose, surrounded by books and scraps of paper. He was in the process of scribbling notes in the margin of one of the books, brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Grantaire sat down on the edge of the bed, smiling gently.
“Honey, I’m home,” he said softly, tone light and teasing.
“Mmm,” Combeferre replied, finishing whatever it was that he had been writing before turning towards Grantaire. “So you are. How was it?” he asked, smiling softly, taking his cue from Grantaire’s behavior.
“It was wonderful,” Grantaire replied. “Everything was perfect. For a few minutes, Combeferre, I was perfect. Everything clicked. It was just…perfect.”
Combeferre’s smile widened. It was rare that Grantaire was this happy, although it was happening more and more frequently. He liked to think that maybe he had something to do with it. “Good. I’m glad it went well.”
“It went better than well, Combeferre. They announced placements for the company and…and they said…they said that I’m a principle, now,” Grantaire grinned, biting his lower lip. He’d kept the news to himself the whole day, and he’d been almost bursting with excitement to tell Combeferre.
“Really?” Combeferre stood up and sat on the bed beside Grantaire, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. “That’s fantastic! That’s…you’ve been working so hard, you’ve been putting so much time in. You deserve this, Grantaire.” He kissed him softly. “I’m so proud of you.”
Grantaire flushed slightly. He’d never get used to Combeferre telling him he was proud of him. He loved to hear it and he knew he’d never get tired of it, but it was always unexpected. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I wanted you to be the first to know. I haven’t told anyone yet, but I’m planning on it.” He leaned in to kiss him again, lingering for much longer.
“I knew it was bound to happen,” Combeferre assured him. “I’ve seen you dance, and you’ve improved so much since the first time I saw you. You’re ready to be a principal. You’re going to be brilliant.”
Grantaire couldn’t stop smiling. He wanted to tell Combeferre that it wasn’t really that big of a deal (it was) and that he didn’t need to say things like that (he loved hearing them), but he kept his mouth shut instead. He and Combeferre had gotten into a few fights about Grantaire’s inability to accept compliments and the fact that he always thought those complimenting him were being insincere, which hurt Combeferre, because he wanted Grantaire to trust him.
“Thank you,” Grantaire said softly. “I would’ve quit, you know. If you hadn’t kept pushing me to keep going. I would’ve quit a long time ago. I didn’t think it was worth all of the pain I went through and all of the hard work I put in just to be placed in minor positions. But you kept me going, Combeferre. So, thank you.” Grantaire bit down on his bottom lip again, thinking for a moment. He and Combeferre had been together for almost a year. A year seemed like a safe amount of time. “Combeferre?”
“Yes?” Combeferre’s smile was still in place. Reaching over, he tucked a stray curl behind Grantaire’s ear.
That settled it for Grantaire. Such a casually intimate gesture, one that Combeferre performed most every day, finally made up his mind. “I love you,” he said softly, reaching out and taking Combeferre’s hand in his. Grantaire had almost wanted to wait for Combeferre to say it first. He’d known he’d loved him for months, but he was apprehensive. What if Combeferre didn’t feel the same way about him? He squeezed his hand gently, looking down at the floor.
“Grantaire?” Combeferre asked softly.
He looked up, almost afraid for a moment.
“I love you, too,” Combeferre said gently, leaning over to kiss Grantaire again. Combeferre had been waiting for Grantaire to say it first. He hadn’t wanted to push Grantaire away by telling him too soon, and so he’d settled for waiting instead.
Combeferre began to pull away, wanting to talk, but Grantaire had other plans. Talking could wait. Grantaire moved, straddling Combeferre and resting his hands on Combeferre’s shoulders. He continued to kiss him, nipping softly at his lower lip and soothing over it with his tongue, smiling slightly when Combeferre groaned.
Keeping his hands occupied with unbuttoning Combeferre’s shirt, Grantaire trailed a line of kisses down Combeferre’s jaw and neck, biting softly at the space where Combeferre’s neck and shoulder met. “I love you,” he said against his skin, pushing Combeferre’s shirt off of his shoulders and waiting for him to discard it entirely. Almost immediately, he went to work on Combeferre’s belt, letting his fingers dip just below the waistband of Combeferre’s underwear.
Combeferre grinned, stroking over Grantaire’s back. “I love you, Grantaire,” he said again, tasting the way the words felt in his mouth.
Grantaire moved off of Combeferre, standing up and letting his towel drop before stepping back in front of Combeferre and tugging at his belt loops. “Pants. Off.”
Combeferre laughed softly. “So demanding. I thought you liked it when I called the shots.”
“I do,” Grantaire replied, happy to note that Combeferre was indeed removing both his pants and his underwear. “But sometimes I like it when things move a little faster.” He pushed Combeferre gently back onto the bed, waiting for him to get comfortable before he straddled him again, kissing at his neck and chest.
Combeferre scratched his nails lightly down Grantaire’s back, noting with pleasure the way he shuddered. “Thought you wanted things to move a little faster, not slower.”
“I thought you were always saying patience was a virtue.”
“I’m willing to admit that in this case, I may have been wrong.”
Grantaire laughed. “I love you, Combeferre.” He would never, he decided, get tired of saying that.
Combeferre snorted. “And I love you.” It was wonderful, he decided, to be able to say that whenever he wanted. “But were you planning on telling each other how much we love each other all evening, or were you planning on getting fucked?”
Grantaire laughed loudly, and proceeded to kiss every available inch of Combeferre’s skin.