Grantaire is rather at a loss while Combeferre is at home visiting his parents. His lover had offered to bring him along, but...in any case, tonight he doesn't feel like cooking, so he makes his way to a cafe.
Upon entering the cafe, he is instantly called over, rather loudly. It was Bahorel. And he was plastered. "Grantaire." he grinned the grin of a happy drunk.
Grantaire flinches a bit at the raised voice, giving his friend and sometime lover a wry grin, recognizing his state all too well. "Bonjour, Luc." He goes over to Bahorel's table and sits.
"Luc, hmm?" he chuckled, slapping R on the back. "Why is it... that I can be Luc and you can't be Alain?" he slurred, pushing his glass in front of Grantaire to share.
Grantaire coughs a bit, pushed almost onto the table by the force of the blow. "Ow..." Grantaire has a tiny sip, savouring the taste of the potent drink. "I don't know," the cynic grins, "I suppose you're just more of a Luc than I'm a...you know." He makes a distasteful face at his name.
"Alain's not that bad." he laughed, taking his drink back and finishing the last mouthful. "Better than..." he coughed, blinking drowsily as the alcohol hit him.
Grantaire raises an eyebrow. "Better than...?"
Luc's face twitched with disgust. "Theodore."
Grantaire laughs, mostly at his friend's expression, made especially outlandish by his drunkeness. "Your middle name?" he asks. "I haven't got one. I'm surprised I even have a first name. And it's only my father's, so it's not like maman had to think of anything original," he says, sounding quite bitter.
"Then!" Luc said expressively, "Then I will trade you. I will be Lucalain Bahorel." he slurred the names together. "And you will be Theodore."
"Alright. That sounds fair." Grantaire coughs into his hand to hide his broad grin. "What's wrong with Theodore? I mean, it doesn't especially suit you...or me...but at least your parents gave it to you." He smiles softly. "Do you love God?" he asks.
Luc's eyes widened and he choked a little. "Are you preashing now?" he looked horrified.
Grantaire looks at his friend completely blankly. "...what are you--oh! No, your name. Theodore. You don't know what it means?" The cynic laughs heartily.
"Should I?" he still looked terribly confused.
"...I forget that not everyone loves dead languages the way I do. And that not everyone has a doctor making them go to class. It means...well...basically, someone who loves God. Philipe means lover of horses."
"Who's Philipe?" he looked like a stunned fish by this point.
"...no one..." Grantaire says, getting more and more confused as well. "He's hypothetical."
"Let's not... make this more confusing than it is." Luc nodded, eyes shut. "Oh, everything's melting."
"Ok. I'm sorry." Grantaire laughs quietly while Bahorel's eyes are closed. "Well, Lucalain, shall I get you home? Before everything melts too badly." Though he can understand how his friend feels, having been there many, many times...he's still very amused, being on the other side of the situation.
"Yes... which home?" he frowned, standing and bumping into the table, knocking over the glasses. "Sorry." he apologized to the table.
"Actually, that's a good question...at this point, I would feel a little bad leaving you alone. But I don't want you eating Ferre's books or something. I'll come with you to your flat, alright?"
"Yes... that would be good." Luc put an arm around Grantaire and let him lead him about, stumbling a little.
Grantaire also stumbles as he adjusts to the sudden increase in weight, but manages to get his friend outside. Luckily, a fiacre is passing, and Grantaire manages to wave for it and still balance his much larger friend.
They clamber in, Luc nearly falling straight onto his face. They are driven to Luc's flat and they stumble out of the fiacre and into the small student flat. There's a crunch of glass under their boots when they first walk in.
Grantaire winces as his shoulder is wrenched with the effort of keeping his friend from falling. When they arrive and he hears the crunch, R leans Bahorel against the wall, looking concerned and fishing matches out of his pocket to light a candle.
Luc stumbles further in, grabbing a candle and pushing it against R's chest. He then sits on the broken chaise, squinting as the match is lit.
Grantaire clutches the grimy candle, lighting it a little nervously. "Luc, wait. What happened? Did someone break in? We should look around first..."
"It was me, ish alright." he waved his hand assuringly.
"...what do you mean, it was you?" Grantaire surveys the destruction, which all looks quite recent. "What happened?" He lights a few more candles.
"Claude died three years ago today." he said, struggling to undo his bootlaces in an attempt to distract himself.
"Oh, merde...Luc, I'm sorry. I've been so busy moping about, I didn't even think..." Grantaire's lips tighten with distress and he rushes over to his friend, helping him with his boots, not sure what to do.
Luc kissed him on the top of his head. "S'alright." he smiled, but his eyes were teary. "Thansk."
Grantaire smiles up at his friend, carefully pretending not to see the tears. "Of course. Any time." He tugs the (rather ripe) boots off and leans against Bahorel's legs, wrapping his arms around them and resting his head on Luc's knees.
"Bed?" Luc asks, trying to stand, using Grantaire to pull himself up.
"Yeah. ...ow." Grantaire manages to coordinate their movements until they're both standing and moving slowly toward the bedroom with a lit candle.
The bed has been broken too, but the mattress is intact and Luc flops down on it face first, falling like a tree.
Grantaire laughs, a little wildly, and blows out the candles in the other room before lighting a single one in the bedroom before laying--much more gently--beside his friend.
Luc has by now fought off his shirt and is still fighting with his pants. He pulls Grantaire into a stubbly, absinthe-flavored kiss.
Grantaire melts a little--just his favorite kind of kiss. He gently pulls away and helps the larger man undress, his cock hardening. He frowns at it, briefly.
Luc pulls him on top of his chest, ripping R's shirt off, buttons bouncing and rolling across the wooden floor. He slides his hands down R's sides and back then clawing upwards, still kissing and nipping sloppily.
The cynic winces at the shirt, remembering his pre-Combeferre days where getting it repaired or replaced would have been difficult, but is soon distracted. Very, very distracted.
Luc flips them over, kneeling between R's thighs, brushing his knee against the boy's hard cock. He fumbles for the buttons of R's pants.
R moans, glancing down a little nervously at the large knee close to his delicate bits, blushing as always when someone is looking at him, especially when he's erect. He gently pushes Luc's groping hands away and undoes his trousers.
Luc grins, pulling them off and grinding their cocks together, stroking them both with his big hand wrapped around them, pressing them together.
"Ahhhh!" R gasps, shivering with delight, his shyness forgotten. He is a -little- wary of the large, drunken hand on his cock, but...
Luc groans, thrusting his hips into his hand, adding more friction. He spits into his other hand, pressing the wet fingers to R's opening and starting to stretch him.
"Yesyesyes!" R cries, a little tipsy from the alcohol he's no longer used to.
The larger man grinned, lowering his head to bite and suck at R's neck down to his chest and nipples, leaving little bruises behind. He slid in two fingers, curling them upwards.
R's mouth is open in a silent scream, eyes rolled up in his head in total ecstasy at the biting, sucking and penetration. "Ohgodpleaseyes!" he gasps, bucking against the fingers.
Luc practically snarled, sliding his cock down, wetting it in his hand and sliding it in under his two still-curled fingers. His free hand moves from R's cock to his hip, holding him still as he fucked him. His teeth fasten around R's nipple, sucking at the ring, teeth clicking against the metal.
R winces a little at the addition of the cock as well as the fingers and squirms to adjust himself until he's comfortable. He shivers again at the hand on his hip--a favorite of his--and arches his head at the almost-painful sensation of his nipple being pulled and sucked.
Luc removes his fingers, lifting R's legs and sliding his cock into the perfect spot. He moans, releasing R's nipple and kissing him again.
R kisses wildly, allowing his lust, his desire to be felt in the kiss. He gasps and groans into Luc's mouth, shivering violently as he's fucked perfectly.
Luc shudders, crying out as he starts to cum into R in spurts. He bites the other's neck, holding his lover's head, fingers tangled in his hair.
R screams with abandon, loving the feeling of his lover's fingers in his hair, the biting, feeling himself being filled with Luc's cock and his seed.
"Viens!" Luc moaned huskily, pulling R's head into his shoulder, still emptying himself into his lover.
R cries out with pure joy and release as he's pressed to the powerful shoulder--another favorite--and comes with a muffled shriek.
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