onemorelie (onemorelie) wrote in the_tardis_trap, @ 2014-01-04 15:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | enjolras : franceb4pants, george duke of kent : georgie-kent, grantaire : onemorelie |
Who: Grantaire, Enjolras, George Duke of Kent. Closed.
Where: Outside Grantaire's bedroom
When: Morning, the Sunday after they arrived
What: Awkwardness.
Warnings: Mentions of sex, more arguments.
Grantaire spent most of the first few days on the TARDIS in the bar. Why not, he reasoned. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to be, and anyway, it was unlikely Enjolras wanted to see him.
George had, though, and he had spent quite a lot of time with him. The man seemed to spend as much time in the bar as Grantaire, which wasn't surprising. There was something bothering the man, and it became more obvious when on the third day they were drinking together, after several of the delicious cocktails, he had slurred the entire story - Enjolras and how much he admired him, how long he had looked up to him despite Enjolras' disdain of him, and even the fact that he had been prepared to die with him.
George had seemed to pale at that, and had downed his drink in one. He had spoken to him about the knowledge that he would die - and how conflicted it made him, how he didn't want to because of his wife, his lovers, his children...
It hadn't been surprising they ended up back in Grantaire's room, pressed close together, desperate and rough and ultimately, at least for Grantaire, not hugely satisfactory. Oh, it was good, very good, from a technical perspective. George was very skilled. But he wasn't who Grantaire wanted to press him down into the mattress, to touch him and slide his lips over his skin. Thankfully, George had understood when he seemed more upset than pleased after they finished. All in all, it could have been a much worse night, but they had eventually found some comfort in each other's arms. Grantaire only wished he could give George as much comfort as the man had given him.
"Don't mention it," George said, his eyes rimmed with dark bruises as he buttoned up his shirt the following morning. He looked more troubled than ever before. "I hope things improve."
Grantaire nodded absently. "Unlikely."
"You should speak to your revolutionary." Grantaire gave him a look. Enjolras wasn't his, that was the entire problem. "You know what I mean."
"I should find myself some wine. And breakfast," Grantaire said, running a hand through his hair and pulling open his bedroom door.
George shrugged on his waistcoat and smiled as they stepped out into the corridor. "What an excellent plan. Mind if I tag along?"
"No, of course not."