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Grantaire always leaves right after. After, Grantaire is careful not to touch Enjolras. He picks up his strewn clothes, redresses, and is gone before the sweat has cooled on Enjolras’s skin. And like every night, Enjolras lies in his bed with his eyes closed and pretends to already be sleep. He dares only to use his ears to track Grantaire around the room.
At the start of this –thing- that they have, a few weeks ago (has it only been a few weeks? Only days, really.) Enjolras had made it clear that he didn’t have the time or patience for anything serious. And Grantaire had made it clear that he was happy with anything Enjolras could spare for him. Enjolras breathed out a soft sigh, careful to be quiet. Grantaire is keeping his word, that’s all. He shouldn’t read into the lack of lingering touches, the complete and utter difference between the affectionate Grantaire during their couplings and the carefully distant Grantaire of afterwards.
As usual, Grantaire throws a quiet “Good night” over his shoulder and shuts the bedroom door. Moments later, the front door of the apartment opens and closes. The still silence that follows is only interrupted by the swirling wind and snow outside.
Only then does Enjolras allow himself to roll over into the rapidly-cooling space left by Grantaire’s body. He breathes deep, filling his senses with Grantaire’s lingering scent. Enjolras grips the sheets.
He jolts as the front door reopens, quickly resuming his previous position on the bed. He relaxes his face into something resembling sleep just as the bedroom door opens. Sometimes Grantaire forgets something. Enjolras tries to slow his heartbeat.
He feels a light kiss on his forehead, and then Grantaire has his hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Enj. Enjolras. Hey, I’m sorry but I can’t leave until they clear the roads tomorrow. I’m really, really sorry but can I crash here?”
Grantaire has never even mentioned wanting to spend the night before, even though the last few nights’ weather hasn’t been much better. Enjolras feigns sleepiness and nods, his eyes still closed. Grantaire’s hand is removed and the familiar heat of his body moves away. Enjolras listens, anticipating the sound of Grantaire removing his jacket, his hat- Instead he hears the bedroom door shut.
Enjolras sits up. Had he dreamed Grantaire coming back in? Extricating himself from the blankets, Enjolras walks barefoot out of his bedroom. Down the short hallway, at the entrance to his living room, Enjolras stumbles over Grantaire’s trainers. Grantaire is curled under the couch throw, shoulders already relaxed in sleep. Did he always look so exhausted? Enjolras lifts a corner of the throw and climbs in, slotting his body against Grantaire’s and tucking his frozen feet between the warmth of Grantaire’s socks. Grantaire immediately wraps his arms around Enjolras’s back to keep him from falling off the narrow couch. Grantaire inhales slowly, his chest expanding against Enjolras’s. “Normally I wouldn’t be opposed, but I’m really not up for a round two tonight. I’ve got a three hour studio class at nine.”
Enjolras’s body stiffens. He clears his throat a bit before speaking. “Well, you could probably get a better rest in my room. Thicker blanket and all.” Grantaire is silent for a long moment, then quietly, “Okay.”
Grantaire frees his arms from the throw, careful to keep an arm on Enjolras’s back to keep him from falling off the couch. Then he wraps his arms around Enjolras’s body firmly and lifts them off the couch, Enjolras still bundled in the couch throw. He maneuvers them back into the bedroom and tips Enjolras lightly into the bed. Grantaire sheds his jacket quickly and climbs in, tucking the blankets around Enjolras’s shoulders and settling against him. Enjolars wriggles until he resumes his previous position, head slotting below Grantaire’s chin, Grantaire’s arms around his back. He sighs against his neck, eyes drooping shut. Grantaire chuckles quietly and wraps his warm feet around Enjolras’s. He smooths his hands up and down Enjolras’s back slowly until he eventually stills, sinking into sleep.
Enjolras is happy with their arrangement, he really is; he’s just thrown off by how good Grantaire is at respecting their enforced casualness. But sometimes, as he drifts off to sleep with Grantaire all around him, Enjolras wonders.