Chapter Text
Grantaire unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment, reveling in the feeling of being well and truly at home. As much as he loved Bahorel and Feuilly, spending time with the boys just wasn’t the same as spending time with his boy.
As he turned to hang his keys on the hook, he noticed Enjolras sitting silently on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest, looking blankly at Grantaire. That wasn’t too unusual. Sometimes Enj got overstimulated and needed to zone out for a bit. It had been a bit unsettling the first few times Grantaire found him like this when they had first moved in together, but now he was used to it. He figured Enjolras would probably be nonverbal for a while before becoming his usual, fiery self again, and that was perfectly fine.
He gave his boyfriend a loving smile and a “hey, cariño,” as he began toward the kitchen, stopping in his tracks as he heard:
“R…” Enjolras’ expression shifted into something slightly pained, then to resigned determination. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re pretty, Enj. What’s going on?”
“Pretty,” he spat back. “I hate being pretty. I don’t want to be pretty; I just want… fuck it.” He turned his head and glared at the wall.
Grantaire walked over to the couch, put a fingertip under the other man’s chin, and gently turned him back to meet his eye. “Talk to me?”
“I just want to be a normal. fucking. guy! Just for once in my life have people treat me like a man! I’m so goddamn tired of being…” and suddenly all of the passion was gone. “I’m tired of being pretty,” he finished quietly, eyes returning to the wall.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Grantaire breathed, “I can’t even imagine. I’m so sorry, corazón. You know I love you so much, don’t you? I know I can’t magically make this better, but you’re the most amazing man in the world in my eyes, mi vida. Just… let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, okay? I can make dinner?”
“I just want out of my body. I want out of my head.” He looked at Grantaire pleadingly, “Help me get out of my head.”
Grantaire sat down next to him and took a hand into both of his own. “Okay, we can do that. Any hard limits today?” he asked, already trying to form a plan.
“No sex… I can’t deal with… Just, no sex. And no chest either. Maybe no ropes?” Enjolras paused, going through his mental checklist.
“Clothes stay on?” Grantaire guessed.
“Clothes stay on.” He took a deep breath before finishing with, “and can you use like… masculine words?”
“Of course. Anything for my perfect boy. Safewords?”
“Green for good. Yellow to pause and check in. Red to stop everything and end the scene.”
“Wonderful. And what happens if you use one of them?”
Enjolras rolled his eyes. “You’ll be very proud of me for sticking to my boundaries and taking care of myself.”
“Correct. Now go change into something comfortable. Leave your hair down. No shoes. When you’re ready come meet me in the study.”
“Yes, sir,” Enj responded, quickly kissing his boyfriend on the cheek, and hurrying off toward their room.
Grantaire took stalk of himself. Green flannel, jeans, brown work boots. He still had some paint under his nails, but that was a given. He went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. God, he needed lotion. His hands were rough and cracked, callused from boxing and fencing. He couldn’t help but wish they were softer, gentler, more worthy of getting to touch his Apollo. He felt like he would never be worthy. Why would such an amazing, passionate, intelligent, charming, charismatic man want to be with someone like him? He was loud and crass, prone to drunkenness and poor choices: a college drop-out struggling artist with no goals and no social skills. How could a god-on-earth, a statue-made-flesh, want a scared and pockmarked mess of a man with a potbelly stomach and thighs covered in stretchmarks? He turned off the water and wiped his hands dry on his jeans. It didn’t matter. Enjolras chose him and that was what was important. And right now, he didn’t need to be attractive. He needed be confident and sure. He needed to be an anchor. He needed to be strong and solid. He could do solid.